^ \ ' \ - \ \ \ N V \ ''
N \ \ \ \ V ,\ \
. N \ \ V ■ ' , •
v \ \ ' ■ : \ \ \ '• • : > .
\ \ \ \
\ \ \ \ \ v ^
V V \ \ V
\ ■. \ x. \ \ ■' \ \ \ \ \
\ \ \ v-. , \ ■■ \ \ \ \ \
\ X \ X •
\ \ \ \ \
\. \ \ X X X
' \ \ \ \ \ \ "
X \ X \ N X \ '
■' , \ X X X X X \ \ \ ■ '
\ \ \ \ \ \ \ '
, ■ - X \ X ' \ X X \ '■ '■ X/X
, X X X X X ' \ X \ X X X '•
. x \ x x \ x x x \ x: x \ s
x, x x. ' X X X v -■ s ■
X X X X '' ‘ X X X x "• s
\ x x X \ v • \ \ X V X x \
■' v \ \ X \ . - x, x \ ■■ X, X X
\ X: X X x-x-x x \ X ' ■' xXx xv x x- 'v ' - \
X >( ;'(X x \ x :
.
- XX X -v •• \ \ \ \ \ X v
.
XXXV X
•>' ■: \' X/ \ /\ v \ ■ v , '
\ X XX- . Xs->X>: xxxOvX' r.;xx ■
'XXX.X ,'J*X>(><X>r>X>v v\XV>• >
>< > x?vx>6X"X>x>'X'- ;x>
^ / - vx
, -'X /
•• / - ; y ' x y ■ > / ; ' -
XX><><><></<>>>m4XX>!.>OCXXX X •
■ / . , / y. / / , ■■ / x
.... ^ X / ,/ X\/' 7\ / /\ ■ / y- / / y
x */• -///./ / /\r? 7- /
X\/' / y y ./ / / " y■ / . "
/'• /' X ■ y-. / •-. y • / x y. y •• y y /
^XX/ X\ . yfy( z7 ./*: ■XX\X' /\y y y /\/' ^ x X X X ,
X X x\y X^x/' x^ W ^ x X' / y - - y / /
x , y\> .< /: x ,\y / ■ X X / / /' - X / y , •
■ ' / / / ■ / / ... /
. .
/ / - / / • ■ - ,. ' /.
. y y / / , / y y / y y - /
.
/ 7/7/ / / X y y / y X / / / / x / / y / y / . .
/ / / / / / X y / y 7 7 7 7 7 / 7 / / 7 / 7 7 / -•
x X y 7// / / / XX/ y / / / 7 7 7 / / / 7 7 7 7 / / /
7 7 7 7/ / / ////',/ '/ 7 7 /// 7 7 7 7 7
y 7 7 / / / X / y / / / / / 7 7 7 / 7 / 7 //
/ 7 / / / / / / / 7 7 / 7 7 7 / 7 7 7 7 ///// 7 /
X / 7 /// / //*//// //////// 7 / / 7 /
y y / /// / 7 / V 7 / 7 / A 7 ///////// /
/ / / / / / / 7 7 7 / V x 7 7 %7 7 7 7 7 / / / / / 7 7
y S , S * S * / 7 s j s s . s 7 s 7/ / / 7 /
■'/ / ./ y\y X- 7 7 / , / / / y ///
7 / 7\ / / / / y'v / y\ 7k 7 / / / / /
x y y y / / / / x y y \ y 777 / /
x / y 7 /// / / / X X y^ y y X X
x / 7 / y/ / / X y X / y y 77^/ 7 XXX X x y 777
/// 7 7 7 7 7 / 7 7 7 7 / 7 7 7 7 // / / / /
X X / / / / //////// 7 /////// X / / - X "
^ //// 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 77/7///// ' /
/ 7 / / y / /. / . y ///;', / / / / / V . % ", y /
/////////
xx xx / / / / /
7 y / / / / / XX 7 7 7 7 7 7^.7 / / 7
/ ,// 7 77 7 7 7 / / 7 / //77/' / / 'm, ' 7 ■'
/ / //// / 7 / / ////// X X x y x xt .%. y . y /
/y/.x 7// /////////? x x x y yj%y /.x^y
/ /^ / X 7 7 7 7 y 7 7 / • X XXX xX* X x v
.X y y / y y 7/7-77/7 / / X X V '/,/ /
/ / >X / x / 7 / ■ 7 7 7 7 / 7 X X x x . ,X
7 / x y y ,y X y ' 7/7 / / / /
7 / 7 7 7 7 // / 7 / / / /% / 7 /'/
/////// / / / / / / > % y %/ /
7 y 777 ■/ / 7 /:/ / ./ /*/y(
V y//y 77/7 ' . V X x
y X- X X / X Xx Xj ;XA_
y >- y '/////
/ / / / / 7 7 ' 7
/ x y / / / /
/ r X X X y
/ 7 ' ./ ' '
r- / / . ' 7 / 7 7 7 7 y X
' X ' 7 7 7 // 7 / X
X
X J */ / XX y y y y y
**&*?*+ » X* / / / x y X .■ / ■ 7
m, \y / y , / * x/X x x /
/ / / 7 7 / 7 / / x x
////7/y
/ x y x / X x x • y
y / / / / / / /■
/ / 7 7 / X X
/ X y X V y y y
/
/ X
XXX
X y y ' - •
/ y '
/ ' 7 7 7 7
7 y 7 7 7 /
/ ' 7 7 7.
7 7 7 /
' / / / :■
X Xk / y - /
7 / w v y .
w -7 / /
-
^^r,. - t, mm# ^ ^
L
-MM.
- g
% c 9
'-LOO-1
fc n
ENCYCLOPEDIA BRITANNICA.
KrvrrcLOP.niMA bkitawwica
Cncpclopaetita Bntaimtca:
OR, A
DICTIONARY
OF
ARTS, SCIENCES, AND MISCELLANEOUS
LITERATURE;
ENLARGED AND IMPROVED.
THE SIXTH EDITION.
SUustratxti imtf) nearly stjt* JuntireU Cngrabmgs^
VOL. i.
INDOCTI DISCANT; AMENT MEMINISSE PERITI.
EDINBURGH:
PRINTED FOR ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE AND COMPANY;
AND HURST, ROBINSON, AND COMPANY, 90, CHEAPSIDE,
LONDON.
1823.
$' B
■APS
'V'366^
PREFACE TO THE FIFTH EDITION.
Xhe importance of a work so constructed as to exhibit a comprehensive and
accurate view of every branch and portion of human knowledge, and human
an, must be too apparent to require any illustration. Such is the intention of
the Encyclopedia Britannica; and the publication of>e extensive editions
oi a work devoted to such objects, at once affords a proof of its eminent utility
and of the favourable opinion of the public as to the ability with which it has
been executed.
Tnc great superiority of the plan of this work has contributed in no small
degree both to its usefulness and popularity. A very few words will serve to
exp am the principles, and to evince the pre-eminence of the method which
its compilers have pursued in treating the various branches of the arts and
sciences.
aI1 former attempts, the alphabet, in place of being employed in the hum-
e unction or an index to the matter contained in the work, was made supreme
ai-biter of the whole arrangement; and the different sciences, insteadof being
made the subjects of distinct and connected discussion, were cut down into de-
tac icd parts, out of which no general view of any one science or art could possibly
6 ormcd- In tllls Vlew> the alphabet, far from conducing to clearness, became
an instrument of disorder; and its only use appeared to be, to save the trouble of
a more commodious or philosophical arrangement. These obvious defects in all
ic most popular Dictionaries of arts and sciences were clearly observed by Mr
Chambers, himself the compiler of a well-known work of this kind; and, in
spe<. 'iii,., 0 - a ours of his predecessors, he particularly censures the uninstruc-
tive met.iod of their performances. “ Former lexicographers (he observes) scarce
emp e any t img like structure in their works; they seem not to have been
aware-ua a dictionary is in some measure capable of the advantages of a conti-
lUed ducourse‘ and hence it is, that we see nothing like a whole in what they
VI
PREFACE.
have done.” For the purpose of remedying this defect in his own work, he in¬
forms his readers, that “ his view waste consider the several matters, not only in
themselves, but relatively, or as they respect each other ; both to treat them as
so many wholes, and as so many parts of some greater whole; and to point out
their connection with each other, and with that whole, by reference: so that by
a course of references from generals to particulars, from premises to conclusions,
from cause to effect, and vice versa, a communication might be opened between
the several parts of the work, and the detached articles be in some measure re¬
placed in the natural order of science, out of which the alphabetical order ha
removed them.” And in order to exhibit a view of the bearings and relations
of the various articles scattered through his Dictionary, he has prefixed to it a
tabular analysis illustrative of their mutual connections and dependencies.
But although it must be admitted, that this table is elaborately and ski! u y
constructed, and that the arrangement of the Cyclopaedia of Mr Chambers is
much preferable to that of any former work of the kind, it is still mdisputab y
liable to many of those very objections for which this author censures his pre¬
decessors. Even if his original plan had been carried into effect with complete
success, and all the articles in different parts of his work had been so managed,
as when reunited, to have made so many complete systems, the number, ot refe¬
rences was still so great, that no reader could possibly have submitted to the
trouble of combining them, (a).
Of this inconveniency the original compilers of the Encyclopaedia Britan-
nica were fully aware ; and they resolved, in the conduct of their work, to adopt
such a plan as should completely free it from this objection. They were as fully
convinced as their predecessors of the utility of a separate explanation of every
technical term, and of the necessity also of noticing, in detail, many topics which
it would be proper more fully to illustrate in a general account of the respective
sciences to which they belonged. But without such general treatises, combining
fAt Thus from Meteorology we are referred to Ala and the Atmosphere ; including, 1st, The history
of its contents, tEthe.,, Fire, Vapour, Exhalat.ok, &c. ; 2d, Meteors formed therein ; as Clocd.Ra.e,
&c. Shower, Drop, Snow, Hail, Dew, Damp, &c. Rainbow, Parhelion, Halo, Thunder, Wat -
spout. Winds, Monsoon, Hurricane, and the like. And as every word printed in capitals is the tit e of
an article treated separately in the Cyclopedia, we must turn backwards and forwards through more an
twenty-four references before we come at the detached topics, which we are directed to unite into a system
of Meteorology. The number of articles which must be united in the same manner to constitute the
Compiler’s system of Metaphysics is upwards of forty-eight; and those which are referred to Iheologt
above three hundred !
PREFACE.
Vll
in one view all the related parts of a subject, they deemed it impossible to convey
any thing like complete or philosophical information. They accordingly endea¬
voured, in so far as their limits would permit, to exhibit a clear and satisfactory
account of the several arts and sciences under their proper denominations, and to
explain, at the same time, the subordinate articles, under their technical terms.
These articles may be divided into three kinds. The first consists of such as,
not depending very closely on particular systems, admit of a complete explana¬
tion under their proper names; the second, of such as require to be considered
in the general account of the sciences with which they are connected, and also
under their own denominations; and the third, of such as belong to a great
whole, from which they cannot be separated, so as to be explained in detail.
Articles of the first kind admit, of course, of no references ; those of the second
sort, being only partially explained under their own denominations, the reader
is referred for more complete information to the article where the subject is
more fully illustrated; and in articles of the third description, no attempt is made
to explain them, except in connection with the subjects to which they severally
belong, and to which the reader is always therefore referred.
Such is the plan of arrangement adopted in the first, and followed, with some
improvements in the detail, throughout every edition of the Encyclopedia Bri-
tannica ; and there appears to be no other, by which the great objects of such a
work could be so conveniently and completely attained. Indeed, it seems to be
now pretty generally admitted, in this country'at least, that the best form which
can be given of this kind of Dictionary, is that in which the several arts and sci¬
ences are digested into treatises, and the various subordinate and detached parts
of knowledge explained in the order of the alphabet.
In the first edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica, its compilers seem to
have intended little more than to furnish a general Dictionary ‘ of Arts and
Sciences ; but in the succeeding edition, they took a wider range, so as to in¬
clude the great departments of Geography, History, Biography, and General
Eiteratme. In this way, the work was converted into a Pandect and Reposi¬
tory of universal knowledge ; and from three volumes, the form in which it first
appeared, has been gradually extended to a size more commensurate to the mag¬
nitude and variety of its objects.
Of the^/zrs£ and second editions of this work, and the twelve first volumes of
the third, it is understood, that Mr Colin Macfarquhar, one of its original pro¬
prietors and projectors, was the principal editor. Owing to his death, the re¬
maining six volumes of the third edition were edited by the Reverend Dr
Gleig. This gentleman was peculiarly fortunate, in being honoured with the co¬
operation
Vlll
PREFACE.
operation of the late Professor John Robison, whose contributions to the latter
volumes of that edition were numerous, and tended essentially to enhance the
character and utility of the undertaking. The fourth edition was wholly edited
by Dr James Miller, under whose superintendence, and with the assistance of
several able contributors, the work received a large addition of new articles and
treatises in all its departments.
To enumerate all the contributors to a work which has undergone so many
changes, and of the compilation of which in its successive stages no record lias
been preserved, is now beyond any means of information which either the pub¬
lishers or any others possess. But they can still afford this satisfaction in regard
to almost all the more valuable treatises which it contains.
The article Agriculture, which, it seems probable, was originally compiled by
the late Mr James Tytler, was re-arranged and improved for the fourth edition
by Robert Forsyth, Esq. advocate. The treatise on Anatomy, originally drawn
up by Mr Andrew Fyfe of the University of Edinburgh, was revised by Dr
Millar. Acoustics, Aerostation, and Gunnery, were compiled by Mr Tytler.
The new discoveries in Acoustics and Aerostation were added by Dr Millar.
Astronomy, compiled also by Mr Tytler for the third edition, from materials fur¬
nished by Mr Jones of London, was more scientifically arranged, with the addi¬
tion of the later discoveries, for the fourth. Blind was furnished by Dr Black-
lock and Dr Moyes. Education, Religion, and Society, were composed by Mr
Robert Heron. The lives of Johnson and Mary Queen of Scots, with Instinct,
Love, Metaphysics, Miracle, the history of Ethics under Moral Philosophy,
Oath, Passion, Plastic Nature, Polytheism, Prayer, Slavery, and Supper of the
Lord, were contributed by Dr Gleig; Grammar and Theology by the Reverend
James Bruce and Dr Gleig ; and Motion by Dr Gleig and Mr Tytler. MedL
cine, originally written by Dr Duncan, senior, of the University of Edinburgh,
was revised by him for the fourth edition. The article Music was partly drawn
up by Dr Blacklock, and revised for the fourth edition by George Sandy, Esq.
The historical part of this article, originally written by William Maxwell Mori-
son, Esq. advocate, was revised and continued down to the publication of the fourth
edition, by the same gentleman, who also furnished the treatise on Physiognomy.
Mysteries, Mythology, and Philology, were drawn up by the late Dr Doig of the
grammar school of Stirling. Navigation, Parallax, Pendulum, Projection of the
Sphere, and Ship-Building, were furnished by the late Dr Mackay of Aberdeen.
Optics, which was drawn up by Mr Jones, and revised for the third edition by
the late Professor Robison, was subjected to another revision for the fourth edi¬
tion by Dr Brewster, Percussion, Perspective, Philosophy, Physics,'Pneumatics,
Precession
PREFACE.
IX
Precession of the Equinoxes, Projectiles, Pumps, Quantity, Resistance of Fluids,
River, Roof, Rope-making, Rotation, Seamanship, Signals, Simson (Robert, life
of,) Smoke-jack, Specific Gravity, Spirituous Liquors, Statics, Steam and Steam
Engine, Stove (the addition to this article in the fourth edition by Dr Millar;,
Strength of Materials, Telescope, Tide, Articulating Trumpet, Variation of the
Compass, and Water-Works, were contributed by Professor Robison. Pre¬
destination and Providence were furnished by Mr Forsyth ; the History of the
French Revolution by the same gentleman and Dr Gleig; and the Continuation
in the fourth edition by Dr Millar.
All the preceding articles were written for editions prior to the fourth, in
which they only received the improvements or additions which have been respec¬
tively specified. The following articles and treatises were contributed, for the
first time, to the fourth edition :
Algebra, Conic Sections, Fluxions, Geometry, Logarithms (description of),
Mensuration, Porism, Series, and Trigonometry, by Mr Wallace, one of the
mathematical professors in the Royal Military College at Sandhurst. Hydro¬
dynamics, Free-Masonry, history of Mathematics, and Mechanics, by Dr Brew¬
ster of Edinburgh. Ichthyology, Meteorolite, Ophiology, and Ornithology, by
Mr Muirhead, professor of natural history in the university of Glasgow. Africa
Asia, and Europe, with the continuation of the history of America, and of BrF
tain, by Robert Forsyth, Esq. advocate. Electricity, Farriery, Geography,
Geology (part of), Magnetism, Mammalia, Man, Materia Medica, Physio^
logy, Prescriptions (extemporaneous), Russia, Science (amusements of), Scot¬
land (geographical and statistical parts), Spain, War {introduction), and Zoo¬
phytes, by Dr Kirby of Edinburgh. Continuation of the history of India, by
the late Dr William Tennant. Life and philosophy of Boscovich, by Dr Poole
of Edinburgh. Entomology, by Mr James Williamson of Edinburgh. Mid¬
wifery, by Dr Hamilton, junior, professor of midwifery, Edinburgh. Surgery,
by James Wardrop, Esq. surgeon, London. Vegetable Physiology, by Mr Lyall"
surgeon, Paisley. Political Economy and Taxation, by Mr Hugh Murray of
Edinburgh. Cetology, Chemistry, Conchology, Crystallization, Dyeing, Erpe-
tology, Furnace, Galvanism, Geology (part of), Mineralogy, Ores (analysis and
reduction of), Stones (analysis of), and the continuation of Galvanism under the
word Zinc, by Dr Millar.
The favourable reception of the fourth edition encouraged the then proprietor
to proceed with a reprint, which had advanced to the sixth volume, before the
copyright was acquired by the present publishers. They were thereby precluded
from making any material alterations on the present or fifth edition; but as the
work
X
PREFACE.
work, after it became their property, was subjected to a revision by the former
editor (Dr Millar), many errors and inaccuracies have been corrected; and the
improvement of the plates has given it a decided superiority in this capita e-
nartment over every former edition. The Supplement volumes, with which
it is to be followed, will enrich its stock of miscellaneous information with a large
accession of interesting articles; and, presenting a view fthe ar^
in their latest state of improvement at home, and abroad, will thus lender the
Encyclopaedia Britanmca the most complete repertory of universal knowle ge
that has yet been given to the public.
Edinburgh, 1st December, 1817.
ADVERTISEMENT
TO
THE SIXTH EDITION.
JLn bringing out a New Edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannic a, the Pub¬
lishers deem it unnecessary either to enlarge on the utility of such works in ge¬
neral, or to dwell on the peculiar merits of that with which they are more im¬
mediately concerned, whose established reputation precludes the necessity of
any formal eulogium. The plan of the Work having been described, and the
history of its progress detailed, in the Preface to the Fifth Edition, which is now
reprinted and subjoined, it is only necessary here to give an account of the al¬
terations and improvements introduced into the present Edition.
In correcting and revising this Edition, it was necessary to keep in view the
additional matter contained in the Supplement, now in course of publication.
Scientific articles, relating to subjects upon which there are new treatises in that
work, have received few alterations; but others, which seemed to require it,
have been revised by gentlemen acquainted with the respective subjects. The
Historical articles have been extended, so as to embrace an outline of all the
recent memorable public transactions in both hemispheres. Most of the Geo¬
graphical articles have been carefully revised, and some of them altogether re¬
written. Phis department will be found to contain, besides several entirely new
articles, a great body of additional statistical details, derived from the census of
1811 and other sources; and all the great changes introduced by the Congress
of Vienna in 1815, and subsequent diplomatic arrangements, have been attend^
ed to, under the heads to which they refer. But what will be found to give a
peculiar value to the present Edition, the titles of all the articles (hitherto pub¬
lished) in the Supplement, have been inserted at their proper places in the Al¬
phabetical order, while numerous references of a more general kind have been
introduced.
Edinburgh, January 1822.
$
I
Encyclopaedia Britannica.
a.
A THE first letter of the alphabet, in all the
9 known languages of the world, that of Ethi¬
opia excepted, in which it is the 13th. It has de¬
servedly the first place in the alphabet, on account of
its simplicity, very little more being necessary to its
pronunciation than opening the mouth.
In the English language, A is the mark of three dif¬
ferent sounds, termed, by our grammarians, the broad,
the open, and the slender A. The first resembles that
tsf the German A, is found in several monosyllables, as
wall, salt, &c. and is pronounced as au in cause. It
is probable that the Saxons expressed only this broad
sound of the letter, as it is still commonly retained in
the northern districts of England, and universally
throughout Scotland ; as, tank for talk, wauk for walk
or wake.—The open A resembles that of the Italians
in adagio, and is the same with that of a in father, ra¬
ther, &c. The slender sound is peculiar to the English
language, and resembles the sound of the French diph¬
thong at in pais, or their a masculine, or perhaps it is
a middle sound between them. This is. exemplified in
place, waste, &c. also in toleration, justification, and
all other words ending with ation.
A is sometimes added after words in burlesque poetry}
in which case it only makes an additional syllable with¬
out any alteration of the sense, as the interjection O
very olten does in our ballads. It rs also sometimes
redundant, as in the words arise, awake, &c. which
are not different in signification from rise, wake, &c.
It is sometimes a word, either noun or interjection }
in which last case, it is commonly an expression of
grief, and joined with the aspirate, as ah! When a
noun, it is only with respect to itself} as great A,
little a, &c.
A is very frequently used as an article } in which case
it has no plural signification, and is used to denote the
number one, as a house, a field, &c. "When placed as
an article before any of the vowels, y and w only ex¬
cepted, it is joined with the letter n; as an island, an
orator, &c.—In the three following cases it is a pre¬
position : 1. When it goes before a participle, or noun
derived from a participle } as, I am a doing this or
that. 2. When used before local surnames ; as Corne¬
lius a Lapide, Thomas a Kempis, &c. 3. WTen it
is used in composition ; as, a foot, a sleep, &c. In
some instances it denotes the proportion of one thing to
another} as, so much a week, a man, a head, &c.
A, among the ancients, was a numeral letter, and
Vol. I. Part I. +
signified 500 } and when a dash was added on the top
A, 5000.
A, in the Julian calendar, is the first of the seven
DOMINICAL letters. It had been in use among the
Romans long before the establishment of Christianity,
as the first of the eight nundinales literce; in imitation
whereof it was that the dominical letters were first in¬
troduced.
A is also an abbreviation used with different inten¬
tions. Hence,
A, among logicians, is used to denote an universal
affirmative proposition } according to the verse,
Asserat A, negat E, verum generaliter ambce.
Thus, in the first figure, a syllogism consisting of three
universal affirmative propositions, is said to be in Bar¬
bara } the A thrice repeated, denoting so many of the
propositions to be universal, &c. See Barbara.
A, among the Romans, was used in giving votes
or suffrages.—When a new law was proposed, each
voter had two wooden ballots put into his hand }
the one marked with a capital A, signifying antique,
q. d. antiquam volo; and the other with U. R. for
rogas. Such as were against the law, cast the first into
the urn j signifying I refuse it, I antiquate it} or, I
like the ancient law, and desire no innovation.
A, in the trials of criminal causes, also denoted ab¬
solution: W hence Cicero,/?ro Milone, calls A, litera
salutaris, a saving letter.—Three ballots were distri¬
buted to each judge, marked with the letters, A for
absolve, I acquit} C for condemno, I condemn} and
N. L. for non liquet, It is not clear. From the num¬
ber of each cast into the urn, the praetor pronounced
the prisoner’s fate. If they were equal in number, he
was absolved.
A, in the ancient inscriptions of marbles, &c. oc¬
casionally stands for Augustus, ager,aiunt, &c. When
double it denotes Augusti; when triple aurum, argen¬
tum, ces; and sometimes its meaning can only be
known by the rest of the inscription. Isidore adds,
that when it occurs after the word miles, (soldier), it
denotes him young. On the reverse of ancient medals,
it denotes that they were struck by the city of Argos,
sometimes by that of Athens} but on coins of modern
date, it is the mark of Paris.
A, as an abbreviation, is also often found in modern
writers : as A. D, for anno Domini; A. M. artium
magister, master of arts 5 anno mundi, &c.
A
A,
AAR [2
A A, the letter a, with a line above it, thus a, is used
'll in medical prescriptions for ana, of each *, sometimes it
Aaron. jg written thus, aa : e. g. Sacchar. et Mann.
v a, vel aa, §j. i. e. Take of honey, sugar, and manna,
of each, one ounce. . . _ . , ,
A, put to bills of exchange, is m England an ab¬
breviation of accepted, and in France for accepte. It
is likewise usual among merchants to mark their sets
of books,with the letters A, B, C, &c. instead of the
numbers I, 2, 3, &c. . . „ . .
A.A.A. The chemical abbreviation for Amalgama,
or Amalgamation. _
A A, the name of several rivers m Germany and
Svvisserland. . . r
AACH, a little town of Germany, in the circle ot
Suabia, near the source of the river Aach, and almost
equally distant from the Danube and the lake Con¬
stance. It belongs to the house of Austria. E. Long.
o. o. N, Lat. 47. 55. . , • , C
AAHUS, a little town'of Germany, in the circle ot
Westphalia and bishopric of Munster. It is the capital
of Aahus, a small district j has a good castle ; and lies
north-east of Coesfeldt. E. Long. 7- I« N. Lat. 52. 10.
AAM, or Haam, a liquid measure in common use
among tiie Dutch, containing 128 measures called
mingles, each weighing nearly 36 ounces avoirdupois j
whence the Aam contains 288 English, and 148I pints
Laris measure.
AAR, the name of two rivers, one in Svvisserland,
and another in Westphalia in Germany. It is also the
name of a small island in the Baltic.
AARASSUS, in Ancient Geography, a town of Pi-
sidia, in the Hither Asia, thought to be the Anassus of
Ptolemy.
AARON, high-priest of the Jews, and brother to
Moses, was by the father’s side great grandson, and by
the mother’s grandson of Levi. By God’s command
he met Moses at the foot of Mount Horeb, and they
went together into Egypt to deliver the children of Is¬
rael : he had a great share in all that Moses did for their
deliverance. The Scriptures call him the prophet of
Moses, and he acted in that capacity after the Israelites
had passed over the Red sea. He ascended Mount Si¬
nai with two of his sons, Nadab and Abihu, and se¬
venty elders of the people j but neither he nor they
went higher than half way, from whence they saw the
glory of God ; only Moses and Joshua went to the top,
where they staid forty days. During their absence,
Aaron, overcome by the people’s eager entreaties, set
up the golden calf, which the Israelites worshipped by
his consent. This calf has given rise to various conjec¬
tures. Some rabbies maintain that he did not make
the golden calf, but only threw the gold into the fire,
to get rid of the importunities of the people \ and that
certain magicians who mingled with the Israelites
at their departure from Egypt, cast this gold into
the figure of a calf. According to some authors,
the fear of falling a sacrifice to the resentment of the
people, by giving a refusal, made Aaron comply with
their desire : and they allege also that he hoped to
elude their request, by demanding of the women to
contribute their ear rings, imagining they would rather
choose to remain without a visible deity, than be de¬
prived of their personal ornaments. This aflair of the
golden calf happened in the third month after the Is-
3
] AAR
raelites came out of Egypt. In the first month of the Aaroa
following year, Aaron was appointed by God high- AJ’£en€
priest j which office he executed during ,the time that u—y—-
the children of Israel continued in the wilderness. He
died in the fortieth year after the departure from
Egypt, upon Mount Hor, being, then 123 years old;
A. M. 2522, of the Julian period 3262, before the
Christian era 1452.
Aaron, the Caraite, a learned Jew who flourished
about the year 1299. He left many works on the Old
Testament, among which there is one entitled, “ A
Commentary on the Pentateuch,” which has been much
valued. It was written in Hebrew, and printed in folio
with a Latin translation, at Jena, in 1710.
Aaron, another Caraite Jew, who lived in the 15th
century, wrote a concise Hebrew grammar, entitled
Chelil Jophi, “ the Perfection of Beauty,” which was
printed at Constantinople in 1581.
Aaron and Julius, Saints, were brothers who suf¬
fered martyrdom together, during the persecution un¬
der the emperor Dioclesian, in the year 303, about the
same time with St Alban the first martyr of Britain.
We are not told what their British names were, it be¬
ing usual with the Christian Britons, at the time of bap¬
tism, to take new names from the Greek, Latin, or
Hebrew. Nor have we any certainty as to the parti¬
culars of their death ; only "that they suffered the most
cruel torments. Two churches were dedicated to the
brothers, in which their bodies were interred, at Caer-
Leon, the ancient metropolis of Males.
Aaron, or Harun, Al Jdaschid, a celebrated caliph,
or Mahometan sovereign of the Saracen empire ; whose
history is given under the article Bagdad.
A ARSENS, Francis, Lord of Someldyck and
Spyck, was one of the greatest ministers for negotia¬
tion the United Provinces could ever boast of. His
father, Cornelius Aarsens, was register to the States ;
and being acquainted with Mr Plessis Mornay, at the
court of William prince of Orange, he prevailed up¬
on him to take his son under him, with whom he con¬
tinued some years. John Olden Barneveldt, who pre¬
sided over the affairs ot Holland and all the United
Provinces, sent him afterwards agent into France,
where he learned to negociate under those profound
politicians Henry IV. Villeroy, Silleri, Rossie, Jaon-
nin, &c. and he acquitted himself in such a manner as
to obtain their approbation. Soon after, he was in¬
vested with the character of ambassador, and was the
first who was recognized as such by the French court;
at which time Henry IV. declared, that he should take
precedence next to the Venetian minister. He resided
in France 1 q years ; during which time he received
great marks of esteem from the king, who created him
a knight and baron ; and for this reason he was re¬
ceived among the nobles of the province of Holland.
However, he became at length so odious to the French
court, that they desired to have him recalled. He
was afterwards deputed to Venice, and to several Ger¬
man and Italian princes, upon occasion of the troubles
in Bohemia. He was the first of three extraordinary
ambassadors sent to England in 1620, and the second
in 1641 in which latter embassy he was accompanied
by the lord of Brederode as first ambassador, and
Heemsvliet as third, to negociate the marriage of
PrinceWilli am ? son of the Prince of Orange, with a
daughter
ABA
[ 3 3 ABA
Aarsens daughter of Charles I. He was likewise ambassador
|| extraordinary at the French court in 1624, at the be-
Aba. ginning of Cardinal Richlieu’s administration, who had
T a high opinion of him. The memoirs which he has
left, of the negociations in which he was engaged, show
him to have been one of the ablest men of his time,
and worthy of the confidence and trust reposed in him
by his country. But his character is not altogether
without stain. His enmity to the remonstrants was bit¬
ter and unrelenting; and he is supposed to have great¬
ly encouraged the violent measures pursued by Prince
Maurice against the venerable Barneveldt, and to have
been the principal adviser for assembling the famous and
persecuting synod of Dordrecht. He died at a very ad¬
vanced age} and his son, who survived him, was repu¬
ted the wealthiest man in Holland.
AASAR, in Ancient Geography, a town of Palestine,
in the tribe of Judah, situated between Azotus and
Ascalon. In Jerome’s time it was a hamlet.
AB, the eleventh month of the civil year of the
Hebrews, and the fifth of their ecclesiastical year, which
begins with the month Nisan. It answers to the moon
of July $ that is, to part of our month of the same
name, and to the beginning of August: it consists of
thirty days. The Jews fast on the first of this month,
in memory of Aaron’s death j and on the ninth, because
on that day both the temple of Solomon, and that
erected after the captivity, were burnt the former by
the Chaldeans, and the latter by the Romans. The
same day is also remarkable among that people for the
publication of Adrian’s edict, wherein they were for¬
bidden to continue in Judea, or even to look back when
at a distance from Jerusalem, in order to lament the de¬
solation of that city. The 18th of the same month is
also a fast among the Jews j because the lamp in the
sanctuary was that night extinguished, in the time of
Ahaz.
Ab, in the Syriac calendar, is the name of the last
summer month. The first day of this month they call¬
ed Suum-Miriam, the fast of the virgin, because the
eastern Christians fasted from that day to the fifteenth,
which was therefore called Fat hi'-Miriam, the cessation
of the fast of the virgin.
ABA (or rather Abau) Hanifah or Hanfa, sur-
named Al-Nooma, was the son of Thabet, and born
at Coufah in the 80th year of the Hegira. This is the
most celebrated doctor of the orthodox Mussulmans,
and his sect is held in greatest esteem among the four
which they indifferently follow. Notwithstanding this,
he was not very well esteemed during his lifej insomuch
that the caliph Almansor caused him to be imprisoned
at Bagdad, for having refused to subscribe to the opi¬
nion of absolute pi’edestination, which the Mussulmans
call Cadha. But afterwards Abou Joseph, who was
the sovereign judge or chancellor of the empire under
the caliph Hadi, brought bis doctrine into such credit,
that it became a prevailing opinion, That to be a good
Mussulman was to be a Hanifite. He died in the
3 50th year of the Hegira, in the prison of Bagdad :
and it was not till 335 years after his death, that
Melick Schah, a sultan of the Selgiucidan race, erect¬
ed to his memory a magnificent monument in the same
city, and a college for his followers, in the 483th year
of the Hegira, and Anno Christi IC92. The most
eminent successors of this doctor were Ahmed Benali,
A1 Giassas, and A1 Razi who was the master of Nas-
sarij and there is a mosque particularly appropriated to
them in the temple of Mecca.
Aba, Abas, Abos, or Abus, in Ancient Geography,
the name of a mountain of Greater Armenia, situated
between the mountains Niphatos and Nibonis. Ac¬
cording to Strabo, the Euphrates and Araxes rose from
this mountain j the former running eastward, and the
latter westward.
Aba. See ABiE.
Aba, Albon, or OvoN, a king of Hungary. He
married the sister of Stephen I. and was elected king
on the deposition of Peter in 1041. The emperor
Henry III. preparing to reinstate Peter on the throne,
Aba made an incursion into his dominions, and return¬
ed loaded with booty j but was next year obliged to
make restitution, by paying a large sum, in order to
prevent a threatened invasion from the emperor. He
indulged in great familiarity with the lower class of
the people, on account of which, and his severity to
their order, he became universally odious to the nobi¬
lity. The fugitive nobles, aided by the emperor, ex¬
cited a revolt against him. After a bloody battle,
Aba was put to flight j and was murdered by his own
soldiers in 1044, having reigned three years.
ABA A, a river in Thessaly, supposed by some to be
the Peneus of the ancients.
ABACZENA, in Ancient Geography, a town of Me¬
dia, and another of Caria in the Hither Asia.
ABACiENUM, in Ancient Geography, a town of
Sicily, whose ruins are supposed to be those lying near
Trippi, a citadel on a high and steep mountain not far
from Messina. The inhabitants were called Abaccenini.
ABACH, a market town of Germany, in Lower
Bavaria, seated on the Danube, 12 miles S. W. of
Ratisbon. It is remarkable for Roman antiquities, and
for springs of mineral waters which are said to be good
for various distempers. E. Long. 11. 56. N. Lat. 48. 53.
ABACINARE, or Abbacinare, in writers of the
middle age, a cruel species of punishment, consisting in
the blinding of the criminal, by holding a red-hot bason
or bowl of metal before his eyes.
ABACK (a sea term), the situation of the sails when
the surfaces are flatted against the masts by the force
of the wind. The sails are said to be taken aback when
they are brought into this situation, either by a sudden
change of the wind, or by an alteration in the ship’s
course. They are laid aback, to effect an immediate re¬
treat, without turning to the right or left 5 or, in the
sea phrase, to give the ship stern-way, in order to avoid
some danger discovered before her in a narrow channel,
or when she has advanced beyond her station in the line
of battle, or otherwise. The sails are placed in this
position by slackening their lee braces, and hauling in
the weather ones $ so that the whole effort of the wind
is exerted on the fore part of their surface, which rea¬
dily pushes the ship astern, unless she is restrained by
some counteracting force. It is also usual to spread
some sail aback near the stern, as the mizen-top-sail,
when a ship rides with a single anchor in a road, in
order to prevent her from approaching it so as to en¬
tangle the flukes cf it with her slackened cable, and
thereby loosen it from the ground.
A 2 ABACQT,
ABA [4
Abacot ABACOT, the name of an ancient cap of state worn
11 by the kings of England, the upper part whereof was
Abacus. tjie form of a double crown.
   1 ABACTORS, or Abactores, a name given to
those who drive away, or rather steal, cattle by herds,
or great numbers at once j and are therefore very pro¬
perly distinguished from fures or thieves.
ABACUS, among the ancients, was a kind of cup¬
board or buffet. Livy, describing the luxury into
which the Romans degenerated after the conquest of
Asia, says they had their abaci, beds, &c. plated over
with gold.
Abacus, among the ancient mathematicians, signi¬
fied a table covered with dust, on which they drew
their diagrams j the word in this sense being derived
from the Phoenician abak, dust.
Abacus, or Abaciscus, in Architecture, signifies
the superior part or member ol the capital of a column,
and serves as a kind of crowning to both. Vitruvius
tells us the abacus was originally intended to represent
a square tile laid over an urn, or rather over a basket.
See Architecture, N° 15.—The form of the abacus
is not the same in all orders : In the Tuscan, Doric,
and Ionic, it is generally square j but in the Corin¬
thian and Composite, its four sides are arched inwards,
and embellished in the middle with some ornament, as
a rose or other flower. Scammoz?.! uses abacus for a
concave moulding on the capital of the Tuscan pedes¬
tal ', and Palladio calls the plinth above the echinus,
or boultin, in the Tuscan and Doric orders, by the same
name.
Abacus is also the name of an ancient instrument
for facilitating operations in arithmetic. It is variously
contrived. That chiefly used in Europe is made by draw¬
ing any number of parallel lines at the distance of two
diameters of one of the counters used in the calculation.
A counter placed on the lowest line, signifies r : on the
2d, 10 •, on the 3d, 100 j on the 4th, 1000, &c. In
the intermediate spaces, the same counters are estimated
at one half of the value of the line immediately superior,
viz. between the island 2d, 5; between the 2d and 3d,
50, &c. See Plate I. fig. 1. where the same number,
1802 for example, is represented under both divisions
by different dispositions of the counters. A farther il¬
lustration of this mode of notation is given in fig. 2.
National debt, according to Mr Ad¬
dington, 1st Feb. 1802, L.400,709,832
According to Mr Tierney, - 457?154,081
According to Mr Morgan, - 558,418,628
New sinking fund, - - 3,275,143
Old sinking fund, - - - 2,534,187
Abacus is also used by modern writers for a table
of numbers ready cast up, to expedite the operations of
arithmetic. In this sense we have Abaci of addition,
of multiplication, of division. This instrument for
computation is, under some variations, in use with most
nations, as the Greeks, Romans, Germans, French,
Chinese, &c.
Grecian Abacus, was an oblong frame, over which
were stretched several brass wires, strung with little
ivory balls, like the beads of a necklace ; by the va¬
rious arrangements of which all kinds of computations
were easily made.
Roman Abacus was a little varied from the Gre-
]
aba
cian, having pins sliding in grooves, instead of strings
or wires and beads.
Chinese Abacus, or Shwanpan, like the Grecian,
consists of several series of beads strung on brass wires, —
stretched from the top to the bottom of the instru¬
ment, and divided in the middle by a cross piece from
side to side. In the upper space every string has two
beads, which are each counted for 5 $ and in the lower
space every string has five beads, of different values,
the first being counted as I, the second as 10, the third
as 100, and so on, as with us.
Abacus Pythagoricus, the common multiplication
table, so called from its being invented by Pythagoras.
Abacus Logisticus, is a rectangled triangle, whose
sides, forming the right angle, contain the numbers
from 1 to 60 } and its area, the facta of each two of
the numbers perpendicularly opposite. This is also cal¬
led a canon of sexagesimals.
Abacus et Palmulce, in the Ancient Music, denote
the machinery, whereby the strings of polyplectra, or
instruments of many strings, were struck with a plec¬
trum made of quills.
Abacus Harmonious, is used by Kircher for the
structure and disposition of the keys of a musical in¬
strument, whether to be touched with the hands or the
feet.
Abacus Major, in metallurgic operations, the name
of a trough used in the mines, wherein the ore is wash¬
ed.
ABADDON, is the name which St John in the
Revelation gives to the king of the locusts, the angel
of the bottomless pit. The inspired writer says, this
word is Hebrew, and in Greek signifies AvoXXvuv, i. e.
a destroyer. That angel-king is thought to be Satan
or the devil: but Mr le Clerc thinks with Dr Ham¬
mond, that by the locusts which came out of the abyss,
may be understood the zealots and robbers, who mise¬
rably afflicted the land of Judea, and laid it in a man¬
ner waste, before Jerusalem was taken by the Romans ;
and that Abaddon, the king of the locusts, may be
John of Gischala, who having treacherously left that
town a little before it was surrendered to Titus, came
to Jerusalem, where he soon headed part of the zealots,
who acknowledged him as their king, whilst the rest
would not submit to him. This subdivision of the zea¬
lot party brought a thousand calamities on the Jews.
ABADIR, a title which the Carthaginians gave to
gods of the first order. In the Roman mythology, it
is the name of a stone which Saturn swallowed, by the
contrivance of his wife Ops, believing it to be his new¬
born son Jupiter: hence it became the object of reli¬
gious worship.
ABiE, or Aba, in Ancient Geography, a town of
Phocis in Greece, near Helicon 5 famous for an oracle
of Apollo older than that at Delphi, and for a rich tem¬
ple which was plundered and burnt by the Persians.
ABAFT, a sea term, signifying the hinder part of
a ship, or all those parts both within and without
which lie towards the stern, in opposition to afore ;
which see.—Abaft, is also used as a preposition, and
signifies further aft, or nearer the stern : as, the barri¬
cade stands abaft the main-mast, i. e. behind it, or
nearer the stern.
ABA1SSED, abaisse, in Heraldry, an epithet ap¬
plied to the wings of eagles, &c. when the tip looks
downwards
Abacus
j]
Abaissed.
 v  
ABA [
Abaissed downwards to the point of the shield, or when the
(| wings are shut j the natural way of bearing them being
Abantias. extended.
v ABAKA. KHAN, the eighth emperor of the Moguls,
a wise and good prince, ascended the throne in 1264.
He reigned 17 years, and is by some authors said to
have been a Christian. It may be admitted, indeed,
that he joined with the Christians in keeping the feast
of Easter, in the city Hamadan, a short time before his
death. But this is no proof of his Christianity j it be¬
ing common, in times of brotherly love, for Christians
and Mahometans to join in keeping the same feasts,
when each would compliment the other with doing
honour to his solemnity.
ABAKANSKOI, a town of Siberia, which was
founded by Peter the Great in 1707. It is provided
with a garrison, to protect the hunters who are em¬
ployed in catching martens and foxes on account of
their furs, which are here an important article of com¬
merce. It is situated in E. Long. 94. 5. N. Lat.
S3- 3°'
ABALAK, a small towrn of Siberia, two miles from
Tobolsk, in E. Long. 64. 10. N. Lat. 57. 1. Abalak
is famous as the resort of many pilgrims who visit an
image of the virgin Mary, which is annually carried in
procession to Tobolsk.
ABALIENATION, in Law, the act of transfer¬
ring one man’s property to another.
ABALLABA, the ancient name of Appleby, a
town in Westmoreland, remarkable only for its anti¬
quity, having been a Roman station. W. Long. 1. 4.
N. Lat. 55-38/
ABACUS, in Ancient Geographij, supposed by the
ancients to be an island in the German ocean, called by
Timaeus Basilia, and by Xenophon Lam|)sacenusl?r//^b;
now the peninsula of Scandinavia. Here, according
to Pliny, some imagined that amber dropped from the
trees.
AB ANA, or Amana, ill Ancient Geography, a river
of Phoenicia, which, rising from Mount Hermon, wash¬
ed the south and west sides of Damascus, and falls into
the Phoenician sea to the north of Tripolis, called CAry-
sorrheas, by the Greeks.
ABANGA. See Ady.
ABANO, a town of the Padnano, in the republic
of Venice, famous among the ancients for its hot baths,
ABANTES, a people who came originally from
Thrace, and settled in Phocoea, a country of Greece,
where they built a town which they called Aba, after
the name of Abas their leader ; and if we may credit
some ancient authors, the Abantes went afterwards in¬
to the island Euboea, now called Negropont : others
say the Abantes of Euboea came from Athens. The
Abantes were a very warlike people, closing with their
enemies, and fighting hand to hand.
ABANTIAS, or Abantis, in Ancient Geography,
a name of the island Eubrea in the Egean sea, extending
along the coast ol Greece, from the promontory Sunium
in Attica to Thessaly, and separated from Boeotia by a
narrow strait called Euripus. From its length the
island was formerly called Maoris; afterwards Aban-
tias or Abantis, from the Abantes, a people original!v
of Thrace, called by Homer tvirky KepeaivUg, from
wearing their hair long behind, having in a battle ex¬
perienced the inconvenience of wearing long hair be-
5 ] ABA
fore. From cutting their hair before, they were called Abantias
Curctes. |j
ABAPTISTON, in Surgery, the perforating part Abaris.
of the instrument called a trepan. This instrument,'
which is mentioned by Galen, Fabricius ab Aquapen-
dente, and others, was a conical saw with a circular
edge. Modern practitioners, however, prefer the cy¬
lindrical form ; and various contrivances have been re¬
commended to obviate the danger that may arise from
want of dexterity, or from rashness, in performing the
operation of trepanning. A new instrument has been
lately invented and delineated for this purpose, by Mr
Rodman, surgeon in Paisley. This instrument is so
contrived, that it can be fitted to cut any thickness of
bone without danger of injuring the brain ; and as no
pivot or centre pin is necessary, the dreadful accidents
which have sometimes happened by not removing it,
when the instrument in common use is employed, are
completely avoided. (Philosoph. Mag. April 1802.).
A BARA, a town in the Greater Armenia, under
the dominion of the Turks j it is often the residence of
the archbishop of Naksivan. E. Long. 46. 25. N.
Lat. 39. 45.
ABARANER, a town of Asia, in the Greater Ar¬
menia, belonging to the Turks: it is seated on the ri¬
ver Alingena. E. Long. 46. 30. N. Lat. 39. 50.
ABARCA, an ancient kind of shoe used in Spain
for passing the mountains with. It was made of raw
hides, and bound with cords, which secured the feet of
travellers against the snow.
ABARIM, high mountains of steep ascent, separa¬
ting the country of the Ammonites and Moabites from
the land of Canaan, where Moses died. According to
Josephus, they stood opposite to the territory of Jericho,
and were the last station but one of the Israelites
coming from Egypt. Nebo and Pisgah were parts of
these mountains.
ABARIS, the Hyperborean, a celebrated sage of
antiquity, whose history and travels have been the sub¬
ject of much learned discussion. Such a number of fa¬
bulous stories*, were told of him, that Herodotus him- * Jamblich.
self seems to scruple to relate them. He tells us on- Vxta Py-
ly t, that this barbarian was said to have travelled iv
with an arrow, and to have taken no sustenance : but ^ap. 36. *
this does not acquaint us with the marvellous proper¬
ties which were attributed to that arrow ; nor that it
had been given him by the Hyperborean Apollo.
With regard to the occasion of his leaving his native
country, Harpocration ^ tells us, that the whole earth + Under the
being infested with a deadly plague, Apollo, upon be-word■*.?*£/*
ing consulted, gave no other answer, than that the
Athenians should offer up prayers in behalf of all other
nations; upon which, several countries deputed ambas¬
sadors to Athens, among whom was Abaris the Hy¬
perborean. In this journey, he renewed the alliance
between his countrymen and the inhabitants of the
island of Delos. It appears that he also went to La¬
cedaemon ; since according to some writers ||, he there |] Pausanias,
built a temple consecrated to Proserpine the Salutary, bb.iii. p« 94.
It is asserted, that he was capable of foretelling earth¬
quakes, driving away plagues, laying storms §, &c. § Porphyry
He wrote several books, as Suidas * informs us, \iz.m^liaPy-
Apollo’s arrival in the country of the Hyperboreans ; afunder
The nuptials of the river Hebrus ; ©toytnx, or the Ge-the WOrd
neration of the Gods; A collection of oracles, &c.
Himerius
his Posthu¬
mous
Works,
vol. L
p. x6r.
| Diod Sic.
Jib. ii. iii.
thag.
p. xaS.
ABA [ <3
Abiris, Himerius the sophist applauds him for speaking pure
Abarticula- Greek; which attainment will be no matter of won-
tion der to such as consider the ancient intercourse there
' was between the Greeks and Hyperboreans. If the
Hebrides, or Western islands of Scotland, (says Mr
* Account Toland *), were the Hyperboreans of Diodorus f,
of the then the celebrated Abaris was of that country j and
Druids, in ]ikewise a druid, having been the priest of Apollo.
Suidas, who knew not the distinction of the insular
Hyperboreans, makes him a Scythian ; as do some
others, misled by the same vulgar error j though Dio¬
dorus has truly fixed his country in an island, and not
on the continent. Indeed the fictions and mistakes
concerning our Abaris are infinite : however, it is
agreed by all that he travelled quite over Greece, and
from thence into Italy, where he conversed familiarly
with Pythagoras, who favoured him beyond all his dis¬
ciples, by instructing him in his doctrines (especially
his thoughts of nature) in a plainer and more compen¬
dious method than he did any other. This distinction
could not but be very advantageous to Abaris. The
Hyperborean, in return, presented the Samian, as
though he equalled Apollo himself in wisdom, with
the sacred arrow, on which the Greeks have fabulous-
$ Jamblichi ly related J that he sat astride, and flew upon it,
Vita Py- through the air, over rivers and lakes, forests and
mountains j in like manner as our vulgar still believe,
particularly those of the Hebrides, that wizards and
witches fly whithersoever they please on their broom¬
sticks. The orator Himerius above mentioned, though
one of those who, from the equivocal sense of the word
Hyperborean, seem to have mistaken Abaris for a Scy¬
thian, yet describes his person accurately, and gives
him a very noble character. “ They relate (says he)
“ that Abaris the sage was by nation a Hyperborean,
“ appeared a Grecian in speech, and resembled a Scy-
“ thian in his habit and appearance. He came to
“ Athens, holding a bow in his hand, having a quiver
“ hanging on his shoulders, his body wrapt up in a
“ plaid, girt about the loins with a gilded belt, and
“ wearing trowsers reaching from his waist down-
“ ward.” By this it is evident (continues Mr To-
land) that he was not habited like the Scythians, -who
were always covered with skins j but appeared in the
native garb of an aboriginal Scot. As to what relates
to his abilities, Himerius informs us, that “ he was
“ affable and pleasant in conversation, in dispatching
“ great affairs secret and industrious, quick-sighted in
“ present exigencies, in preventing future dangers cir-
“ cumspect, a searcher after wisdom, desirous of
“ friendship, trusting little to fortune, and having eve-
4< ry thing trusted to him for his prudence.” Neither
the Academy nor the Lycseum could have furnished a
man with fitter qualities to travel so far abroad, and
to such wise nations, about affairs no less arduous than
important. And if we further attentively consider his
moderation in eating, drinking, and the use of all
those things which our natural appetites incessantly
crave ; joining the candour and simplicity of his man¬
ners with the solidity and wisdom of his answers ; all
which we find sufficiently attested •, it must be owned
that the world at that time had few to compare with
Abaris.
ABAETICULATION, in Anatomy, a species of
articulation, admitting of a manifest motion j called al-
] ABA
so Diarthrosis, and Dearticulatio, to distinguish it Abarticnk;
from that sort of articulation which admits of a very t*011
obscure motion, and is called Synartht'osis. Abassa,
ABAS, a weight used in Persia for weighing pearls. - y ‘ •
It is one-eighth less than the European carat.
Abas, in heathen mythology, Avas the son of Hypo-
thoon and Meganira, who entertained Ceres, and offer¬
ed a sacrifice to that goddess ; but Abas ridiculing the
ceremony, and giving her opprobrious language, she
sprinkled him with a certain mixture she held in her
cup, on which he became a newt or water lizard.
Abas, Sc/ia/i, the Great, was third son of Codaben-
di, 7th king of Persia of the race of the Sophis. Suc¬
ceeding to his father in 1585, at the age of t8, he found
the affairs of Persia at a low ebb, occasioned by the
conquests of the Turks and Tartars. He regained se¬
veral of the provinces they had seized ; but death put
a stop to his victories in 1629, after a reign of 44 years.
He was the greatest prince who had reigned in Persia
for many ages j and it was he who made Ispahan the
metropolis of Persia. His memory is held in the high¬
est veneration among the Persians.
Abas, Schah, his grandson, 9th king of Persia of
the race of the Sophis, succeeded his father Sesi at 13
years of age. He was but 18 when he made himself
master of the city of Candahar, which had surrendered
in his father’s reign to the great Mogul, and all the
province about it; and he preserved it afterwards a-
gainst this Indian emperor, though he besieged it more
than once with an army of 300,000 men. He was a
very merciful prince, and openly protected the Chris¬
tians. He had formed a design of extending the limits
of his kingdom toward the north, and had for that ef¬
fect levied a powerful army ; but death put a stop to all
his great designs, at 37 years of age, A.D. 1666.
ABASCIA, or Abcassia, the northern district of
the western division of Georgia in Asia, situated on the
coast of the Black sea, and tributary to the Turks.
The inhabitants are poor, thievish, and treacherous,
so that there is no trading with them without the ut¬
most caution. They trade in furs, buck and tyger skins,
linen yarn, boxwood, and bees wax : but their princi¬
pal traffic consists in the sale of their own children to
the Turks, and to one another. They are destitute of
many necessaries of life, and have nothing among them
that can be called a town; though we find Anacopia,
Dandar, and Czekorni, mentioned in the maps. They
have the name of Christians ; but have nothing left
but the name, any more than the Mingrelians their
northern neighbours. The men are robust and active,
and the women are fair and beautiful $ on which ac¬
count the Turks have a great value for the female
slaves which they purchase from among them. Their
customs are much the same as those of the Mingre-
lians j which see. E. Long, from 390 1043°. N. Lat.
from 430 to 450.
ABASCUS, a river of Asiatic Sarmatia, which, ris¬
ing from Mount Caucasus, falls into the Euxine, be¬
tween Pityus to the east, and Nosis to the west.
ABASITIS, in Ancient Geography, a tract of Asia¬
tic Mysia, in which was situated the city of Ancyra.
ABASSA, The Greater and the Smaller, two
districts in the vicinity of the Caucasian mountains. rl he
latter, according to Pallas, is inhabited by six tribes
who were formerly Christians, but the nobles now pro-
* fess'
Abatis
ABA [
ATj.issa fess the Mahometan religion. In manners, dress, mode
|| of life, and, in some degree, in language, they resemble
^■!,at15, the Circassians. They practise agriculture, but chiefly
v depend on pasturage for their subsistence. They are
celebrated for a fine breed of large horses. They are
frequently harassed and plundered by the Circassian
princes.
ABASSI, or Abassis, a silver coin current in Per¬
sia, equivalent in value to a French livre, or tenpence
halfpenny sterling. It took its name from Schah Ab¬
bas II. king of Persia, under whom it was struck.
ABASSUS, in Ancient Geography, a town of the
Greater Phrygia, on the confines of the Tolistobagii, a
people of Galatia in Asia.
ABATAMENTUM, in Law, is an entry to lands
by interposition, i. e. when a person dies seized, and
another who has no right enters before the heir.
To ABATE, (from the French abattre, to pull
down, overthrow, demolish, batter down, or destroy),
a term used by the writers of the English common law
both in an active and neutral sense j as, To abate a
castle, is to beat it down. To abate a writ, is, by some
exception, to defeat or overthrow it. A stranger aba-
teth ; that is, entereth upon a house or land void by the
death of him that last possessed it, before the heir takes
possession, and so keepeth him out: wherefore, as he
that putteth out him in possession is said to disseize, so
he that steppeth in between the former possessor and his
heir is said to abate. In the neuter signification thus ;
The writ of the demandant shall abate; that is, shall
be disabled, frustrated, or overthrown. The appeal
abateth by covin $ that is, the accusation is defeated by
deceit.
Abate, in the manege, implies the performing any
downward motion properly. Thus a horse is said to
abate or take down his curvets, when he puts both his
hind legs to the ground at once, and observes the same
exactness in all the times.
ABATELMENT, in commerce, a term used for
a prohibition of trade to all French merchants in the
ports of the Levant who will not stand to their bargains,
or refuse to pay their debts. It is a sentence of the
French consul, which must be taken off before they can
sue any person for the payment of their debts.
ABATEMENT, in Heraldry, an accidental figure
supposed to have been added to coats of arms, in order
to denote some dishonourable demeanour or stain, where¬
by the dignity of coat armour was rendered of less es¬
teem. See Heraldry.
Abatement, in Law. See To Abate.
Abatement, in the customs, an allowance made
upon the duty of goods, when the quantum damaged is
determined by the judgment of two merchants upon oath,
and ascertained by a certificate from the surveyor and
land waiter.
ABATIS, an ancient term for an officer of the
stables.
Abatis, or Abattis, in military affairs, a kind
of retrenchment made of felled trees. In sudden emer¬
gencies, the trees are merely laid lengthwise beside
each other, with the branches pointed outwards to
prevent the approach of the enemy, while the trunks
serve as a breastwork to the defendants. When the
abatis is employed for the defence of a pass or entrance,
the boughs of the trees are stripped of their leaves and
7 ] ABA
pointed, the trunks are planted in the ground, and the
branches interwoven with each other.
ABATON, a building at Rhodes, erected as a Abauzit.
fence to the trophy of Artemisia, queen of Halicarnas- y
sus, Coos, &c. raised in memory of her victory over
the Rhodians j or rather to conceal the disgrace of the
Rhodians from the eyes of the world: for to efface or
destroy the trophy was with them a point of religion.
ABATOR, in Law, a term applied to a person who
enters to a house or lands void by the death of the last
possessor, before the true heir.
ABATOS, in Ancient Geography, an island in the
lake Moeris, formerly famous for its papyrus. It was
the burial place of Osiris.
ABAUZIT, Firmin, a learned Frenchman, was
born at Usez, in Languedoc, in November 1679. His
father died when he was but two years of age. In conse¬
quence of the revocation of the edict of Nantz, in the
time of Louis XIV. to avoid the rigours of persecution
to which the Protestants of France were exposed, young
Abauzit’s mother, who was a Protestant, not without
difficulty, escaped with her son to Geneva, where he
remained secure from danger, and enjoyed the benefit
of education. From his 10th to his 19th year, his time
was wholly devoted to literature} and having made
great progress in languages, he studied mathematics,
physics and theology. In the year 1698, he travelled
into Plolland, where he became acquainted with the
learned Bayle, with Basnage and Jurieu. Thence he
passed over to England, and was introduced to Sir
Isaac Newton, who entertained a very high opinion of
his merit. lor this philosopher afterwards sent him his
Commereium Epistolicwn, accompanied with a very ho¬
nourable testimony. “ You are well ■worthy, says
Newton, to judge between Leibnitz and me.” The
reputation of Abauzit reached the ears of King Wil¬
liam, who encouraged him by a very handsome offer
to settle in England j which he declined, and returned
to Geneva. In 1715 he entered into the society form¬
ed for the purpose of translating the New Testament
into the French language, and contributed valuable
assistance to this work. The chair of philosophy in the
university was offered to him by that body in 1723,
which he refused on account of his health and diffidence
of his talents. But in 1727 he accepted of the office
of librarian to the city, the duties of which were nei¬
ther burdensome, nor subjected him to any particular
restraint.
Abauzit, who was deeply conversant in physical and
mathematical knowledge, was one of the first who em¬
braced the grand truths which the sublime discoveries
of Newton exhibited to the world. He defended the
doctrines of that philosopher against Father Castel j
and discovered an error in the Principia, which was
corrected by Newton in the second edition of his work.
He was a perfect master of many languages $ he un¬
derstood history so exactly, that he remembered the
names of the principal characters and the dates of the
events j his knowledge of physics was deep and exten¬
sive, and he was well acquainted with medals and an¬
cient manuscripts. The different sciences which he
had studied, were so well digested and arranged in his
retentive mind, that he could at once bring together
all that he ever knew on any subject. A remark¬
able instance of this occurred in a conversation with
Rousseau.
ABB
Abauzit Housseau on the music of the ancients, while the latter
|| was employed in compiling bis Dictionary ol Music.
Abba. 2Je i,a(i been at great pains in giving an accurate ac-
—Y—J count of ancient music. But how much was he surpri¬
sed to find that Abauzit could give him a full and clear
history of all that he had with much labour collected ;
and the more so, when he was informed that 30 years
had elapsed since his inquiries led him to consider that
subject. It was probably in consequence ol this inci*
dent that Rousseau addressed to Abauzit one of the
finest panegyrics which he ever wrote.
A very fine compliment is said to have been paid to
Abauzit by Voltaire. A stranger having addressed
the poet in a flattering manner, by saying he had come
to Geneva to see a great man, Voltaire asked him,
whether he had seen ^xbauzit ?
This excellent man having enjoyed that otium cum
dignitate, so much talked of, and so eagerly sought af¬
ter, hut rarely obtained, having thus lived universal¬
ly respected to the great age of 87 years, died in the
year 1787, lamented by the republic, and regretted by
the learned.
Abauzit was a sincere Christian ; his piety was pure
and unaffected *, his benevolence was extensive. Li¬
beral in his opinions, he was indulgent and forbearing
to those whose sentiments and opinions were different
from his own. Simple and easy in his manners, every
thing about him, his house, his person, and his way of
life, discovered a strong aversion to show and luxury.
He carefully avoided the officious observances of ce¬
remony, and anxiously withdrew from the tulsome praise
of flattery. His conversation, free from pedantry and
ostentation, instructive and entertaining, was always
heard with eagerness, and listened to with attention.
The writings which Abauzit left behind him are
chiefly on religious subjects, lie wrote an “ Essay on
the Apocalypse,” in which he endeavoured to show,
that the. predictions in that book were to be applied to
the destruction of Jerusalem. This work was translated
into English ; to which a refutation was added, which
satisfied Abauzit so much that he was mistaken in his
views, that he ordered an edition then ready for pub¬
lication in Holland to be stopped. His other works
are, “ Reflections on the Eucharist ; On Idolatry } On
the Mysteries of Religion ; Paraphrases and Explana¬
tions of sundry parts of Scripture 5 Several Critical and
Antiquarian Pieces ; and various Letters.”
ABAVO, in Botany, a synonyme of the Adansonia.
ABB, a term among clothiers applied to the yarn
of a weaver’s warp. They say vl\so Abb-wool in the
same sense.
ABBA, in Ancient Geography, a town of Africa
Propria, near Carthage.
Abba, in the Syriac and Chaldee languages, lite¬
rally signifies a father 5 and figuratively, a superior,
reputed as a father in respect of age, dignity, or af¬
fection. It is more particularly used in the Syriac,
Coptic, and Ethiopic churches, as a title given to the
bishops. The bishops themselves bestow the title of
Abba more eminently on the bishop of Alexandria j
which occasioned the people to give him the title oi Ba¬
ba, or Papa, that is Grandfather •, a title which he bore
before the bishop of Rome. It is a Jewish title of ho¬
nour given to certain rabbins called Tanaites: and it
is also particularly used, by some writers of the middle
ABB
age, for the superior of a monastery, usually called AB- Abba
bot. II
ABBADIE, James, an eminent Protestant divine,IAbbasside*.
born at Nay in Bern in 1654 } first educated there un-' ' *
der the famous John la Placette, and afterwards at the
university of Sedan. From whence he went into Hol¬
land and Germany, and was minister in the French
church of Berlin. He left that place in 1690 ; came
into England 5 was some time minister in the French
church in the Savoy, London j and was made dean of
Killalo in Ireland. He was strongly attached to the
cause of King William, as appears in his elaborate de¬
fence of the Revolution, and his history of the assassi¬
nation-plot. He had great natural abilities, which he
improved by true and useful learning. He was a most
zealous defender of the primitive doctrine of the Pro¬
testants, as appears by his writings j and that strong
nervous eloquence for which he was so remarkable,
enabled him to enforce the doctrines of his profession
from the pulpit with great spirit and energy. He pos¬
sessed uncommon powers of memory. It is said that
he composed his works without committing any part
to writing, till they were wanted for the press. He
died in London in 1727, after his return from a tour
in Holland. He published several works in French
that were much esteemed ; the principal of which are,
A Treatise on the Truth of the Christian religion j
The Art of Knowing one’s Self-, A Defence of the
British Nation ; the Deity of Jesus Christ essential to
the Christian Religion ; The History of the last Con¬
spiracy in England, written by order of King William
III. ; and The Triumph of Providence and Religion,
or the opening the Seven Seals by the Son of God.
ABBAS, son of Abdalmotalleb, and Mahomet’s
uncle, opposed his nephew with all his power, regard¬
ing him as an impostor and traitor to his country \ but
in the second year of the Hegira, being overcome and
made a prisoner at the battle of Beder in 623, a great
ransom being demanded for him, he represented to Ma¬
homet, that his paying it would reduce him to beggary,
which would bring dishonour on the family. Mahomet,
who knew that he had concealed large sums of money,
said to him, “ Where are the purser of gold that you
gave your mother to keep when you left Mecca P Ab¬
bas, who thought this transaction secret, was much sur¬
prised, and conceiving that his nephew was really a pro¬
phet, embraced his religion. He became one of his
principal captains ; and saved his life when in immi¬
nent danger at the battle of Honain, against the Tha-
kefites, soon after the reduction of Mecca. But be¬
sides being a great commander, Abbas was one of the
first doctors of Lslamism, the whole of whose science
consisted in being able to repeat and explain the Ko¬
ran, and to preserve in their memory certain apocry¬
phal histories. He is said to have read lectures on
every chapter of the Koran, as his nephew pretended
to receive them from heaven. He died in 652, and
his memory is held in the highest veneration among the
Mussulmans to this day.
Abul-Abbas, surnamed Sajf 'ah, one of his grandsons,
was proclaimed caliph a century after his death j and
in him began the dynasty of the
ABBASSIDES, who possessed the caliphat for 524
years. There were 37 caliphs of this race who suc¬
ceeded one another without interruption.
ABBE'
[ 8 ]
ABB
Af>be ABBE', in a monastic sense, the same with Abbot.
jj Abbe', in a modern sense, the denomination of a
Abbey, class of persons which has been popular in France.
— Yhey were not in orders 5 but having received the ce¬
remony of tonsure, were entitled to enjoy certain pri¬
vileges in the church. The dress of abbes was that of
academics or professed scholars. In colleges they were
the instructors of youth, and were employed as tutors
in private families. Many of them have risen to a di¬
stinguished rank in the state, while others have been
no less eminent in science and literature.
ABBESS, the superior of an abbey or convent of
nnns. The abbess has the same rights and authority
over her nuns that the abbots regular have over their
monks. The sex indeed does not allow her to perform
the spiritual functions annexed to the priesthood, with
which the abbot is usually investedj but there are in¬
stances of some abbesses who have a right, or rather a
privilege, to commission a priest to act for them. They
have even a kind of episcopal jurisdiction, as well as
some abbots who are exempted from the visitation of
their diocesans.
Martene, in his treatise on the rights of the church,
observes, that some abbesses have formerly confessed
their nuns. But he adds, that their excessive curiosity
carried them such lengths, that there arose a necessity
of checking it. However, St Basil, in his Rule, allows
the abbess to be present with the priest at the confession
of her nuns.
ABBEVILLE, a considerable city of France, in
the department of the Somme. The river Somme
divides it into two parts. It has a collegiate church
and twelve parish churches, the most considerable of
which are St George’s and St Giles’s ; and it is the
seat of two tribunals. It is a fortified town ; the Avails
are flanked with bastions, and surrounded by large
ditches. Never having been taken, from this circum¬
stance it is sometimes called the Maiden Town; and
hence too its motto, Semper jidelis. The number of
the inhabitants in ;8oo amounted to 18,052. The
situation in the midst of a fertile valley is pleasant
and healthy. It is famous for its woollen manufactory,
established in 1665 under the auspices of Colbert.
The stuffs manufactured here are said to equal in
fabric and quality the finest in Europe. There is
also a manufactory of fire arms, and a considerable
trade in grain, lint, and hemp. It is about 11 miles
east of the British channel, and ships may come from
thence by the river Somme to the middle of the town.
E. Long. 1. 50. N. Lat. 50. 7.
ABBEY, a monastery, or religious house, governed
by a superior under the title of abbot or abbess.
Abbeys differ only from priories, that the former are
under the direction of an abbot, and the others of a
prior ; for abbot and prior (we mean a prior conventual)
are much the same thing, differing in little but the name.
Fauchet observes, that, in the early days of the French
monarchy, dukes and counts were called abbots, and
duchies and counties abbeys. Even some of their kings
are mentioned in history under the title of abbots. Phi¬
lip I. Louis VI. and afterwards the duke of Orleans,
are called abbots of the monastery of St Aignan. The
dukes of Aquitain were called abbots of the monastery
of St Hilary at Poicticrs} and the earls of Anjou, of
St Aubin, .Sic.
Vol. I. Part L f
[ 9 ] ABB
Monasteries were at first established as religious
hopses, to which persons retired from the bustle of the
world to spend their time in solitude and devotion. But
they soon degenerated from their original institution,
and obtained large privileges, exemptions, and riches.
They prevailed greatly in Britain before the Reforma¬
tion, particularly in England ; and as they increased
in riches, so the state became poor: for the lands
which these regulars possessed were in mortua manu,
i. e. could never revert to the lords who gave them.
This inconvenience gave rise to the statutes against gifts
in mortmaine, which prohibited donations to these re¬
ligious houses j and Lord Coke tells us, that several
lords, at their creation, had a clause in their grant,
that the donor might give or sell his land to whom he
would, fexceptis viris religiosis et Judceis) excepting
monks and Jews.
These places were wholly abolished in England at
the time of the Reformation ; Henry VIII. having
first appointed visitors to inquire into the lives of the
monks and nuns, which were found in some places
to be extremely irregular, the abbots, perceiving their
dissolution unavoidable, were induced to resign their
houses to the king, who by that means became invest¬
ed with the abbey lands : these were afterwards grant¬
ed to different persons, whote descendants enjoy them
at this day : they were then valued at 2,853,000k per
annum, an immease sum in those days.
Though tha suppression of religious houses, even con¬
sidered in a political light only, was a great national
benefit, it must be owned, that at the time they flou¬
rished, they were not entirely useless. Abbeys or mo¬
nasteries were then the repositories, as well as the se¬
minaries, of learning j many valuable books and nation¬
al records, as well as private history, having been pre¬
served in their libraries, the only places in which they
could have been safely lodged in those turbulent times.
Many of those, which had escaped the ravages of the
Hanes, were destroyed with more than Gothic barbarity
at the dissolution of the abbeys. These ravages are pa¬
thetically lamented by John Bale, in his declaration up¬
on Leland’s Journal 1549. “ Covetousness,” says he,
“ was at that time so busy about private commodity,
that public wealth, in that most necessary and of re¬
spect, was not anywhere regarded. A number of
them which purchased these superstitious mansions, re¬
served of the library books, some to serve their jakes,
some to scour the candlesticks, and some to rub their
boots ; some they sold to the grocer and soapseller j
and some they sent over sea to the ‘bookbinders, not
in small numbers, but in whole ships full $ yea, the
universities of this realm are not clear of so detestable
a fact. I -know a merchant that bought the contents
of two noble libraries for 40s. price ; a shame it is to
be spoken ! This stuff hath he occupied instead of gray
paper, by the space of more than these ten years, and
yet he hath store enough for as many years to come.
I shall judge this to be true, and utter it with heavi¬
ness, that neither the Britons under the Romans and
Saxons, nor yet the English people under the Hanes
and Normans, had ever such damage of their learned
monuments as we have seen in our time.”
-In these days every abbey had at least one person
whose office it was to instruct youth ; and the histori¬
ans of this country are chiefly beholden to the monks
B foe
Abbey.
ABB [ ic
Abbey for the knowledge they have of former national events.
t! In these houses also the arts of painting, architecture,
Abbot. an(j printing, were cultivated. They were hospitals for
for the sick and poor, and afforded entertainment to
travellers at a time when there were no inns. In them
the r.ohilitv and gentry who were heirs to their foun¬
ders could provide for a certain number of ancient and
faithful servants, by procuring them corodies, or stated
allowances of meat, drink, and clothes. They were
likewise an asylum for aged and indigent persons of
good family. 'Flit neighbouring places were also great¬
ly benefited by the fairs procured for them, and by
their exemption from forest law«; add to which, that
the monastic estates were generally let at very easy
rents, the fines given at renewals included.
ABBEYBOYLE, a town of Ireland, in the county
of Roscommon, and province of Connaught. W. Long.
8. 32. N. Lat. 53. 54. It is remarkable for an old
abbev.
ABBEYHOLM, a town in Cumberland, so called
from an abbey bulk there by David king of Scots. It
stands on an arm of the sea. W. Long. 3. 18. N. Lat.
54- 51-
ABBOT, or Abbat, the superior of a monastery of
monks erected into an abbey or priory.
The name Abbot is originally Hebrew, where it sig¬
nifies father. The Jews call father, in their language,
Ab ; whence the Chaldeans and Syrians formed Abba ;
thence the Greeks A(o*xf, which the Latins retained ;
and lienee our Abbot, the French Abbi, Sic. St Mark
and St Paul use the Syriac Abba in their Greek, by
reason it was then commonly known in the synagogues
and the primitive assemblies of the Christians 5 adding
to it, bv way of interpretation, the word father, a£S<» «
Trains, “ Abba, father j” q. d. Abba, that is to say,
Father. But the name Ab, or Abba, winch at first
was a term of tenderness and affection in the Hebrew
and Chaldee, became at length a title of dignity and
honour : The Jewish doctors affected it j and one of
their most ancient books, containing the sayings or a-
pophthegms of divers of them, is entitled Pirke Abboth
or Avoth i. e. Chapters of the Fathers. It was in al¬
lusion to this affectation, that Jesus Christ forbade his
disciples to call any man their father on earth •, which
word St Jerome turns against the superiors of the mo¬
nasteries of his time, for assuming the titles of Abbots,
or Fathers.
The name Abbot, then, appears as old as the institu¬
tion of monks itself. The governors of the primitive
monasteries assumed indifferently the titles Abbots,
* See Monk Archimandrites They were really distinguished
’mandril' ^rom t*ie c^ergy 5 though frequently confounded with
them, because a degree above laymen.
In those early days, the abbots were subject to the
bishops and the ordinary pasters. Their monasteries
being remote from cities, built in the farthest solitudes,
they had no share in ecclesiastical affairs. They went
on Sundays to the parish church with the rest of the
people ; or, if they were too remote, a priest was sent
them to administer the sacraments; till at length they
were allowed to have priests of their own body. The
abbot or archimandrite himself was usually the priest:
but his function extended no farther than to the spiri¬
tual assistance of his monastery ; aud he remained still
tn obedience to the bishop. There being among the
3
] ABB
abbots several persons of learning, they made a vigo- a'j
rous opposition to the rising heresies of those times;  
which first occasioned the bishops to call them out of
their deserts, and fix them about the suburbs of cities,
and at length in the cities themselves ; from which era
their degeneracy is to be dated. Then the abbots
threw off their former plainness and simplicity, assumed
the rank of prelates, aspired at being independent of
the bishops, and grasped at so much power, that severe
laws were made against them at the council of Cbalce-
don. Many of them, however, carried the point of in¬
dependency, obtained the appellation of lord, and were
distinguished by other badges of the episcopate, parti¬
cularly the mitre.
Hence arose new distinctions between the abbots.
Those were termed mitred, abbots, who were privileged
to wear the mitre, and exercise episcopal authority
within their respective precincts, being exempted from
the jurisdiction oi the bishop. Others were called cro-
siered abbots, from their bearing the crosier or pastoral
staff. Others were styled ecumenical or universal ab¬
bots, in imitation of the patriarch of Constantinople :
while others were termed cardinal abbots, from their
superiority over all other abbots. In Britain, the
mitred abbots were lords of parliament ; and called ab-
bots-sovereign, and abbots-general, to distinguish them
from the other abbots. And as there were lords-ab-
bots, so there were also lords-priors, who had exempt
jurisdiction, and were likewise lords of parliament.
Some reckon 26 of these lords abbots and priors who
sat in parliament. Sir Edward Coke says, that there
were 27 parliamentary abbots and two priors. In the
parliament 20 Rich. II. there were but 25 abbots and
two priors : but in the summons to parliament anno 4
Ed. III. more are named.
In Roman Catholic countries, the principal distinc¬
tions observed between abbots are those of regular and
commendatory. The former take the vow and wear the
habit of their order ; whereas the latter are seculars
who have received tonsure, but are obliged by their
bulls to take orders when of proper age.
Anciently the ceremony of creating an abbot consist¬
ed in clothing him with the habit called cuculus, or
cowl ; putting the pastoral staff'into his band, and the
shoes called pedales on his feet: but at present, it is on¬
ly a simple benediction, improperly called, by some,
consecration.
Abbot is also a title given to others beside the su¬
periors of monasteries: thus bishops whose sees were
formerly abbeys, are called abbots. Among the Ge¬
noese, the chief magistrate of the republic formerly
bore the title of abbot of the people. It was likewise
usual, about the time of Charlemagne, for several lords
to assume the title of abba-comites; be¬
cause the superintendency of certain abbeys was com¬
mitted to them.
Abbot, George, archbishop of Canterbury, was
horn October 29. 1562, at Guildford in Surrey. He
was the son of Maurice Abbot a cloth-worker. He
studied at Oxford, and in 1597 was chosen principal
of University college. In 1599, be was installed dean
of Winchester : the year following, he w'as chosen vice-
chancellor of the university of Oxford, and a second
time in 1603. In 1604, the translation of the Bible
now in use was begun by the direction of King James :
and
ABB [ i
Ahbot. and Dr Abbot was the second of eight divines of Ox-
—v——' ford, to whom the cai’e of translating the whole New
Testament (excepting the Epistles) was committed.
The year following, he was a third time vice-chancel¬
lor. In 1608, he went to Scotland with George
Hume earl of Dunbar, to assist in establishing an union
between the churches of Scotland and England 5 and in
this business he conducted himself with so much ad¬
dress and prudence, that it laid the foundation of all
his future preferment. King James ever after paid
great deference to his advice and counsel j and upon
the death of Dr Overton bishop of Litchfield and Co¬
ventry, he named Dr Abbot for his successor, who
was accordingly constituted-bishop of those two united
sees in December 1609. About a month afterwards
he was translated to the see of London, and on the se¬
cond of November following was raised to the archie-
piscopal see.
It is not however improbable, that his extravagant
adulation of his royal master, in which he went as far
as any other court-chaplain could do, contributed not
a little to his rapid preferment. In the preface to a
pamphlet which he published, the following specimen
of ridiculous flattery occurs : Speaking of the king, he
says, “ whose life hath been so immaculate and un¬
spotted, &c. that even malice itself, which leaves no¬
thing unsearched, could never find true blemish in it,
nor cast probable aspersion on it.—'Zealous as a Da¬
vid } learned and wise, the Solomon of our age j reli¬
gious as Josias j careful of spreading Christ’s faith as
Constantine the Great; just as Moses ; undefiled in
all his ways as a Jehosaphat and Hezekiah *, full of
clemency as another Theodosius.”—If Mr Walpole had
seen this passage, he certainly would not have said,
that “ honest Abbot could not flatter.”
His great zeal for the Protestant religion made him
a strenuous promoter of the match bet een the Elector
Palatine and the Princess Elizabeth ; which was ac¬
cordingly concluded and solemnized the 14th of Fe¬
bruary 1612, the archbishop performing the ceremony
on a stage erected in the royal chapel. In the follow¬
ing year happened the famous case of divorce between
the lady Frances Howard, daughter of the earl of Suf¬
folk, and Robert earl of Essex 5 which has been consi¬
dered as one of the greatest blemishes of King James’s
reign. The part which the archbishop took in the bu¬
siness, added much to the reputation he had already
acquired for incorruptible integrity. It was referred
by the king to a court of delegates, whose opinion the
king and court wished and expected to be favourable
to the divorce. But the archbishop, unawed by royal
authority, with inflexible firmness resisted it, and pub¬
lished his reasons for persisting in his opinion, to which
the king, disappointed in his views, thought fit to re¬
ply : Sentence was given in the lady’s favour. In
1618, the king published a declaration, which he or¬
dered to be read in all churches, permitting sports and
pastimes on the Lord’s day : this gave great uneasiness
to the archbishop j who, happening to be at Croydon
on the day it was ordered to be read, had the courage
to forbid it.
Being now in a declining state of health, the arch¬
bishop used in the summer to go to Hampshire for the
sake of recreation $ and being invited by Lord Zouch
to hunt in his park at Bramzill, he met there with the
i ] ABB
greatest misfortune that ever befel him ; for he acci- Abbot,
dentally killed the game-keeper by an arrow from a-v—
cross-how which he shot at one of the deer. This fa¬
tal accident threw him into a deep melancholy ; and
he ever afterwards kept a monthly fast on Tuesday,
the day on which it happened 5 and he settled an an¬
nuity ol 20I. on the widow*. Advantage was taken* Fuller’s
of this misfortune, to lessen him in the king’s favour 5 Church
but his majesty said, “ An angel might have miscar- llis>t: cent<
ried in this sort.” His enemies alleging that he had Xxvii’ P‘ 87*
incurred an irregularity, and was thereby incapacitated
for performing the offices of a primate ; the king di¬
rected a commission to ten persons to inquire into this
matter.
The result, however, was not satisfactory to his
Grace’s enemies j it being declared, that, as the mur¬
der was involuntary, he had not forfeited his archiepis-
copal character. The archbishop after this seldom as¬
sisted at the council, being chiffly hindered by his in¬
firmities j but in the king’s last illness he was sent for,
and constantly attended till his majesty expired on the
27th of March 1622. He performed the ceremony
of the coronation of King Charles I. though very in¬
firm and distressed witli the gout. He was never
greatly in this king’s favour 5 and the duke of Buck¬
ingham being his declared enemy, watched an opportu¬
nity of making him feel the weight of his displeasure.
This he at last accomplished, upon the archbishop’s re¬
fusing to license a sermon, preached by Dr SiMhdrpe
to justify a loan which the king had demanded, and
pregnant with principles which tended to overthrow
the constitution. The archbishop was immediately af¬
ter suspended from all his functions as primate ; and
they were exercised by certain bishops commissioned
by the king, of whom Laud, the archbishop’s enemy,
and afterwards his successor, was one : while the only
cause assigned for this procedure was, That the arch¬
bishop could not at that time personally attend those
services which were otherwise proper for his cogni¬
zance and direction. He did not, however, reniam
long in this situation $ for a parliament being abso¬
lutely necessary, his Grace was sent for, and restored
to his authority and jurisdiction. But not proving
friendly to certain rigorous measures adopted by the
prevailing church party, headed by Laud, whose power
and interest at court were now very considerable, his
presence became unwelcome thexe; so that, upon the
birth of the prince of Wales, afterwards Charles II.
Laud had the honour to baptize him, as dean of the
chapel. The archbishop being worn out with cares and
infirmities, died at Croydon, the 5th of August 1633,
aged 71 years j and was buried at Guildford, the
place of his nativity, where he had endowed an hospital
with lands to the amount of 300I. per annum. A stately
monument was erected over the grave, with his effigy
in his robes.
He proved himself, in most circumstances of his life,
to be a man of great moderation to all parties ; and
Avas desirous that the clergy should gain the respect of
the laity by the sanctity and purity of their manners,
rather than claim it as due to their function. His opi¬
nions and principles, however, have drawn upqn him
many severe reflections ; particularly, from the earl of
Clarendon. But Dr Welwood has done more justice f Memoirt
to his merit and abilities f. He wrote several tracts vo, 170c,
B 2 upon^38>
ABB
[ 12
upon various subjects j and, as already mentioned, trans¬
lated part of the New Testament, with the rest of the
Oxford divines, in 1611.
There was another writer of the same name, who
flourished somewhat later. This George Abbot wrote
A Paraphrase on Job, A Vindication of the babbatfi,
and A Paraphrase on the Psalms.
Abbot, Robert, elder brother to the former, was
born at Guildford in 1560, and completed his studies
at Baliol college, Oxford. In 1582, he took Ins de¬
gree of master of arts, and soon became a celebrated
preacher j and to this talent he chiefly owed his pre¬
ferment. Upon the first sermon at Worcester, he was
chosen lecturer in that city, and soon after rector of
All-saints in the same place. John Stanhope, Bsq.
happening to hear him preach at Paul’s-eross, was so
pleased with him, that he immediately presented him
to the rich living of Bingham in Nottinghamshire.
In 1597, he took his degree of doctor in divinity :
and, in the beginning of King James’s reign, was ap¬
pointed chaplain in ordinary to his majesty ; who had
such an opinion of him as a writer, that he ordered the
doctor’s book De Antichristo to be printed, with his
own commentary upon part of the Apocalypse. In
1609, he was elected master of Baliol college •, which
trust he discharged with the utmost care and assiduity,
by his frequent lectures to the scholars, by his conti¬
nual presence at public exercises, and by promoting
temperance in the society. In November 1610, he
was made prebendary of Normanton in the church of
Southwell; and, in 1612, his majesty appointed him
regius professor of divinity at Oxford, f he fame 0
his lectures became very great; and those which he
gave upon the supreme power of kings, against Bcllar-
mfne and Suarez, so much pleased his majesty, that
when the see of Salisbury became vacant, he named
him to that bishopric, and he was consecrated by his
own brother at Lambeth, December 3. 1615. When
he came to Salisbury, he found the cathedral falling to
decay, through the avarice and negligence of the cler¬
gy belonging to it; however, he found means to draw
five hundred pounds from the prebendaries, which he
applied towards repairing it. Here he devoted him-
eelf to the duties of bis function with great diligence
and assiduity, visiting his whole diocese in person, and
preaching every Sunday. But his sedentary life, and
close application to study, brought upon him the gra¬
vel and stone ; of which he died on the 2d of March
1618, in the 58th year of his age ; having filled the see
# Heylin’s only two years and three months. Dr 1 idler *, speak-
Histiry of jng 0f tl,e two brothers, says, “ that George was the
Presbyte- it more plausjble preacher, Robert the greatest scholar ;
“ George the abler statesman, Robert the deeper di-
“ vine: gravity did frown in George, and smile in Ixo-
“ bert.” He published several pieces ; and left behind
him sundry manuscripts, which Dr Corbet presented to
the Bodleian library.
ABBOTSBROMLEY, a town in Staffordshire.
After the dissolution of the monasteries, it was given
to the lord Paget; and has since been called Paget's
Bromley. But it retains its old name in the king’s
books, and with regard to the fairs. W. Long. I. 2.
N. Lat. 52. 45. . ^ .
ABBOTSBURY, a small town in Dorsetshire, in
W. Long. 1. 17. N. Lat. 50. 40. The abbey near
a
riant,
p. S3
] ABB
this town was founded by a Norman lady, about the Abboti-
year 1026. Edward the Confessor and William the l»nry
Conqueror were considerable benefactors to it. Abbrevi*.
ABBOTS-Langley, a village in Herts, four miles
from St Alban’s, famous as the birth-place of Pope
Adrian IV.
ABBREVIATE of Adjudications, in Scots Law,
an abstract or abridgment of a decreet of adjudica¬
tion, which is recorded in a register kept for that pur¬
pose.
ABBREVIATION, or Abbreviature, a con¬
traction of a word or passage, made by dropping some
of the letters, or by substituting certain marks or cha¬
racters in their place. A late philosophical writer on
grammar, divides the parts of speech into words which
are necessary for the communication of thought, as the
noun and verb, and abbreviations which are employed
for the sake of dispatch. The latter, strictly speaking,
are also parts of speech, because they are all useful in
language, and each has a different manner of significa¬
tion. Mr Tooke, however, seems to allow that rank
only to the necessary words, and to consider ail others
as merely substitutes of the first sort, under the title ot
abbreviations. They are employed in language in
three ways ; in terms, in sorts of words, and in con-*
structiom Mr Locke in his Essay treats of the first
class ; numerous authors have written on the last ; and
for the second class of abbreviations, see Diversions oj
Parley. Lawyers, physicians, &c. use many abbre¬
viations, for the sake of expedition. But the Rabbins
*are the most remarkable for this practice, so that their
writings are unintelligible without the Hebrew abbre¬
viatures. The Jewish authors and copyists do not con¬
tent themselves with abbreviating words like the Greeks
and Latins, by retrenching some of the letters or sylla¬
bles ; they frequently take away all but the initial let¬
ters. They even take the initials of several succeeding
words, join them together, and, adding vowels to them,
make a sort of barbarous words, representative of all
those which they have thus abridged. Thus, Rabbi Mo¬
ses ben Maimon, in their abbreviature is Rambam, &c.
The following Abbreviations are of most frequent
occurrence in the Writings and Inscriptions of thr
Romans.
AB. Abdicavit.
AB. AUG. M. P. XXXXI. Ab Augusta millia pas-
suum quadraginta unum.
AB. AUGUSTOB. M. P. X. Ab Augustobriga millia
passuum decern.
ABN. Abnepos.
AB. U. C. Ab urbe conditS.
A. CAMP. M. P. XI. A Camboduno millia passuum
undecim.
A. COMP. XIIII. A Compluto quatuor decern.
A. C. P. VI. A capite, vel ad caput pedes sex.
A. D. Ante diem.
ADJECT. H-S. IX 00. Adjectis sestertiis novem mille,
ADN. Adnepos.
ADQ. Adquiescit vel adquisita pro acquisita.
iED. II. ll. VIR. II. jE-dilis iterum, duum-vir iterum,
iED. II. VIR. QUINQ. iEdilis duum vir quinquen-
nalis,
/ED.
AbbreYift'
tion.
ABB [ )
^:d. q. h. vm. ^Edilis quinquennalis duum-vir.
tEL. ^Elius, iElia.
JEM. vel AIM. jEmilius, ^Emilia.
A. K. Ante kalendas.
A. G. Animo grato : Aulus Gellius.
AG. Ager, vel Agrippa.
ALA. I. Ala prima.
A. MILL. XXXV. A miiliari triginta quinque, vel
ad milliarla triginta quinque.
A. M. XX. Ad milliare vigesimum.
AN. A. V. C. Anno ab tube condita.
AN. C. H. S. Anno cent, hie situs est.
AN. DCLX. Anno sexcentesimo sexagesimo.
AN. II. S. Annos duos semis.
AN. IVL. Annos quadraginta sex.
AN. N. Annos natus.
ANN. LIII. H. S. E. Annorum quinquagesim. trium
hie situs est. ,
ANN. NAT. LXVI. Annos natus sexaginta sex.
ANN. PL. M. X. Annos vel annis plus minus decern.
AN. ©. XVI. Anno defunctus decimosexto.
AN. V. XX. Annos vixit viginti.
AN. P. M. Annorum plus minus.
A. XIl. Annis duodecim.
AN. P. M. L. Annorum plus minus quinquaginta.
A. XX. H. EST. Annorum viginti hie est.
AN. P. R. C. Anno post Romam conditam.
AN. V. P. M. II. Annis vixit plus minus duobus.
AN. XXV. SFIP. VIII. Annorum viginti quinque
stipendii, vel stioendiorum octo.
k, P. M. Amico posuit monumentuiru
AP. Appia, Appius.
A. P. V. C. Annorum post urbem conditam.
AP\ D. L. V. CONV. Apud lapidem quintum con*
venerunt.
A, RET. P. III. S. Ante retropedes tres semis.
AR. P. Aram posuit. .
ARG. P. X. Argenti pondo decem. .
ARR. Arrius.
A. V. B. A viro bona.
A. V. C. Ab urbe conditS.
B
B. Balbus, Bulbius, Brutus, Belenus, Burrus.
B. Beneficiario, benefieium, bonus.
B. Balnea, beatus, bustum.
B. pro V, bernapro verna, bixit/?ro vixit, bibopro vi¬
vo, bictor/?ro victor, biduajoro vidua.
B. A. Bixit annis, bonus ager, bonus amabilis, bona
aurea, bonum aureum, bonis auguriis, bonis auspiciis.
B. B. Bona bona, bene bene.
B. ED. Bonis deabus.
B. I1. Bona fide, bona femina, bona fortuna, bene fac-1
turn.
B. I. reversed thus, j. Bona femina, bona filia.
B. EL Bona hereditaria, bonorum haereditas.
B. I. I. Boni judicis judicium.
B. L. Bona lex.
B. M. P. Bene merito posuit.
B. M. P. C. Bene merito ponendum curavit.
B. M. S. C. Bene merito sepulcrum condidit,
BN. EM. Bonorum emptores.
BN. H. I. Bona hie invenies.
B. RP. N. Bono reipublicaa natus.
B. A. Bixit, id est} vixit annis.
3 ] ABB
BIGINTI, Viginti. ... .
BIXIT. BIXSIT. BISSIT. Vixit. tion 1 *
BIX. ANN. XXCI. M. IV. D. VII. Vixit annis oc- 1 v~~' 1
toginta unum, mensibus quatuor, diebus septem.
BX. ANVS. VII. ME. VI. DI. XVII. Vixit anno,
septem, menses sex, dies septem decim.
G
C. Caesar, Caio, Cains, censor, civitas, consul, condemn
no.
C. C. Carissimae conjugi, calumnia causa, consiliunr
cepit.
C. C. F. Caius Caii filius.
C. B. Commune bonum.
C. D. Comitialibus diebus.
C. H. Gustos hortorum vel haeredum.
C. I. C. Caius Julius Caesar.
CC. VV. Clarissimi viri.
CEN. Censor, centuria, centurio.
CERTA. QU1NQ. ROM. CO. Certamen quinquec-
nale Romae conditum.
CL. Claudi us.
CL. V. Clarissimus vir.
CH. COH. Cohors.
C. M. velCk. M. Causa mortis.
CN. Cneus.
C. O. Civitas omnis.
COH. I. vel II. Cohors prima-ue/ secunda.
COS. ITER. ET. TERT. EESIG. Consul iterum et
tertium designatus.
COS. TER* vel QUAR. Consul tertium, tie/ quartum.
GOSS. Consules.
COST. CUM. LOC.H-S.oo D. Custodiam cum loco
sestertiis mille quingentis.
C. R. Ci vis RomanuSi
CS. IP. Caesar imperator.
C. V. Centum viri.
D
D. Decius, decimus, decuria, decurio, dedicavit, dedit,
devotus, dies, divus, Deus, dii, Dominus, domus£
donum, datum, decretum, &c.
D. A. Di vus Augustus.
E. B. I. Diis bene juvantibus.
E. B. S. Ee bonis suis.
ECT. Detractum.
EEVIT. Eedicavit.
D. E. Eonum dedit, datis, datio, Ecus dedit.
E. E. E. Eono dederunt, vel datum decreto decurio-'
num.
E. E. E. D. Eignum Eeo donum dedicavit.
EEPP. Deposit!.
D. E. Q. O. H. L. S. E. V. Eiis deabusque omniba**
hunc locum sacrum esse voluit. •
DIG. M. Dignus memoria.
E. M. S. Eiis manibus sacrum.
E. O. M. Deo optimo maximo. . J
E. O. JE. Deo optimo aeterno. .
E. PP. Eeo perpetuo.
ER. Erusus.
ER. P. Dare promittit.
E. RM. Ee Romanis.
D. RP. De republica.
E. S. P. F. C. Ee sua pecunia faeiundum curavit.
ET. Euntaxat.
EVL. vel EOL. Eulcissimus.
EEC,
ABB [ u
DEC.*XIII.AVG.XII.POF.XI. Decurionibus dena-
rils tredecim, augustallbusduodecim, populo undeeim.
D. 11II. ID. Die quarts ulus.
D. VIIII. Diebus novem.
D V. ID. Die quinta idus.
E
E. Ejus, ergo, esse, est, erexit, exactum, &g.
E. C.^-F. Ejus causa fecit.
E. D. Ej us domus.
ED. Edictum.
E. E. Ex edicto.
EE. N. P. Esse non potest.
EG. Egit, egregius.
E. H. Ejus haeres.
EID. Idus.
EIM. Ejusmodi.
E. L. Ea lege.
E. M. Elexit vel erexit monumentum.
EQ. M. Equitura magister.
EQ. O. Equester ordo.
EX. A. D. K. Ex ante diem kalendas.
EX. A. D. V. K. DEC. AD. PR ID. K. IAN. Ex
ante diem quinto kalendas Decembris ad pridie ka¬
lendas Januarias.
EX. H-S.X.P.F.I.Exsestertiisdecem parvis fieri jussit.
EX. H S. Cl ON. Ex sestertiis mille nummurn.
EX. H-S. oo oo oo oo Ex sestertiis quatuor millia.
EX. H-S. N. CC. L. oo D. XL. Ex sestertiis nwm-
morum ducentis quinquaginta millibus, quingentis
quadraginta. #
EX. H-S. DC. oo D. XX. Ex sestertiis sexcentis mil¬
libus quingentis viginti.
EX. KAL. IAN. AD. KAL * IAN. Ex kalendis
Januarii ad kalendas Januarii.
F
F. Fabius, fecit, factum, faciendum, familia, famula,
fastus, Februarius, feliciter, felix, fides, fieri, fit, fo
mina, filia, filius, frater, finis, flamen, forum, flu-
vius, faustum, fuit.
F. A. Filio amantissimo vel filise amantissimae.
F. AN. X. F. C. Filio vel filiae annorum decern faci-
undum curavit.
F. C. Fieri vel faciendum curavit, fidei commissum.
F. D. Flamen Dialis, filius dedit, factum dedicavit.
F. D. Fide jussor, fundum.
FEA. Femina.
FE. C. Ferme centum.
FF. Fabre factum, filius familias, fratris filius.
F. F. F. Ferro, flamma, fame, fortior, fortuna, fato.
FF. Fecerunt.
FL. F. Flavii filius.
F. FQ. Filiis filiabusque.
FIX. ANN. XXXIX. M. I. D. VI. HOR. SCIT.
NEM. Vixit annos triginta novem, mensem unum,
dies sex, boras scit nemo.
IO. FR. Forum.
F. R. Forum Romanum.
G
G. Gellius, Gains pro Caius, genius, gens, gaudium,
gesta, gratia, gratis, &c.
GAB, Gabinius.
GAL. Gallus, Gallerius.
G. C. Genio civitatis.
GEN. P. R. Genio populi Romani.
GL. Gloria.
] ABB
GL. S. Gallus Sempronius.
GN. Gneusjoro Cneus, genius, gens.
GNT. Gentes.
GRA. Gracchus.
GRC. Grascus.
H
H. Hie, habet, hastatus, basres, homo, bora, hostis,
berus.
H. A. Hoc anno.
HA. Hadrianus.
HC. Dune, huic, bic.
HER. Flseres, hereditatis, Ilerennius.
HER. vel HERC. S. Herculi sacrum.
H. M. E. H S. CCIOO. CCIOO. 133. M. N. Hoc
monumenlum erexit sestertiis viginti quinque mille
nummum.
H. M. AD. H. N. T. Hoc monumentum ad hseredes
non transit.
H. O. Hostis occisus,
HOSS. Hostes.
H. S. Hie situs vel sita, sepultus vel sepulta.
H-S. N. IllI. Sestertiis nummum quatuor.
H-S. CCCC. Sestertiis quatuor centum.
H-S. 00. N. Sestertiis mille mummfim.
H-S. 00. CC100. N. Sestertiis novem mille nummum.
H-S. CCIOO. CIOO. Sestertiis viginti mille.
H-S. XXM. N. Sestertiis viginti mille nummum.
H. SS. Hie supra scriptis.
I
I. Junius, Julius, Jupiter, ibi, idest, immortalis, impe-
rator, inferi, inter, invenit, invictus, ipse, iterum,
judex, jussit, jus, &c.
IA. Intra.
I. AG. In agro.
I. AGL. In angulo.
IAD. Jamdudum.
IAN. Janus.
IA. RI. Jam respondi.
I. C. Juris consultus, Julius Caesar, judex cognitionum.
IC- Hic-
I. D. Inferiis diis, Jovi dedicatum, Isidi dese, jussu deae.
ID. Idus.
I. D. M. Jovi Deo magno.
I. F. vel I. FO. In foro.
IF. Interfuit. IFT. Interfuerunt.
I. FNT. In fronte.
IG. Igitur.
I. H. Jacet bic.
I. I. In jure.
IM. Imago, immortalis, imperator.
I. M. CT. In medio civitatis.
IMM. Immolavit, immortalis, immunis.
IM. S. Impensis suis.
IN. Inimicus, inscripsit, interea.
IN. A. P. XX. In agro pedes viginti.
IN. vel INL. V. I. S. Inlustris vir infra scriptus.
I. R. Jovi regi, Junoni reginae, jure rogavit.
I. S. vcl I. SN. In senatum.
I. V. Justus vir.
IVD. Judicium.
IVV. Juventus, Juvenalis.
II. V. Duum-vir, vel duum-viri.
III. V. vel HI. VIR. Trium-vir, vel trium-viri.
IIII. Vir. Quatuor-vir, vel quatuor-viri, vel quatuor
viratus.
IIIIIL
A B B
[ 15 !
ABB
Aijbrtvu- HIIII. V. rel VIS. Sextum-vir, vel se-vir, vdsex-vir.
tion. IDNE, vel IND. aut INDICT. Indictio, vel indie-
 'r~”J tione.
K
K. Cteso, Cains, Caio, C'jelius, Carolus, calumnia, can-
didatus, caput, carissimus, clarissimus, castra, cohors,
Carthago, &c.
K. KAL. KL. KLD KLEND. Kalendae, aut ka-
jendis *, et sic die cceteris ubi meiisium apponuntur no-
mina.
KASC. Career.
KK. Carissimi.
KM. Carissimus.
K. S. Cams suis.
KR. Chorus.
KR. AM. N. Cams amicus noster.
L
L. Lucius, Lucia, Lcelius, Lollius, lares, Latinus, la¬
tum, legavit, lex, legio, libens vel lubens, liber, li¬
bera, libertus, liberta, libra, locavit, &c.
L. A. Lex alia.
LA. C. Latini colon!.
L. A. D. Locus alter! datus.
L. AG. Lex agraria.
L. AN. Lucius Annius, vel quinquaginta annis.
L. AP. Ludi Apollinares.
LAT. P. VIII. E. S. Latum pedes octo et semis.
LONG. P. VII. L. P. III. Longum pedes septem, la¬
tum pedes tres.
L. ADQ. Locus adquisitus.
LB. Libertus, liberi.
L. D. D. D. Locus datus decreto decurionum.
LECTIST. Lectisternium.
LEG. T. Legio prima.
L. E. D. Lege ejus damnatus.
LEG. PROV. Legatus provincire.
LIC. Licinius.
LICT. Lictor.
LL. Libentissime, liberi, libertas.
L. L. Sestertius magnus.
LVD SiE,C. Ludx saeculares.
LVPERC. Lupercalia.
LV. P. F. Ludos publicos fecit.
M
M. Marcus, Marca, Martius, Mutius, maceria, magi-
ster, magistratus, magnus, manes, mancipium, mar-
moreus, marti, mater, maximus, memor, memoria,
mensis, meus, miles, militavit, militia, mille, missus,
monumentum, mortuus, &c.
MAG. EQ. Magister equitum.
MAR. VLT. Mars ultor.
MAX. POT. Maximus pontifex.
MI). Mandatum.
MED. Medicus, medius.
MER- Mercu rius, mercator.
MERK. Mercurialia, mercatus.
MES. VII. DIEB. XI. Mensibus septem, diebus un-
decim.
M. I. Maximo Jovi, matri Idete vel Isidi, militige jus,
monumentum jussit.
MIL. COH. Miles cohortis.
MIN. vel MINER. Minerva.
M. MON. MNT. MONET. Moneta.
M. vel MS. Mensis vel menses.
MNF. Manifestus.
MNM. Manumissus. Abbrevia-
M. P. II. Mnlia passuum duo. tion
MV. MN. MVN. MVNIC. Municipium vel muni- 1 v
ceps.
N
N. Neptunus, Numerius, Numeria, Nonis, Nero, nam,
non, natus, natio, nefastus, nepos, neptis, niger, no¬
men, nonae, noster, numerarius, numerator, numerus,
numnnis vel numisma, liumen.
NAV. Navis.
N. B. Numeravit bivus pro vivus.
NB. vel NBL. Nobilis.
N. C. Nero Caesar, vd Nero Claudius.
NEG vel NEGOT. Negotiator.
NEP. S. Neptuno sacrum.
N. E. N. Nobili familia natus.
N. L. Non liquet, non licet, non longe, nominis Latini.
N. M. Nonius Macrinus, non malum, non minus.
NN. Nostri. NNR. vel NR. Nostroruqi*
NO. Nobis.
NOBR. November.
NON. AP. Nonis Aprilis.
NQ. Namque, nusquam, nunquam.
N. V. N. D. N. P. O. Neque vendetur, neque dona-
bitur, neque pignori obligabitur.
NVP. Nuptiae.
O
O. Officium, optimus, olla, omnis, optio, ordo, ossa, os-
tendit, &c.
OB. Obiit.
OB C. S. Ob cives servatos.
OCT. Octavianus, October.
O. E. B. Q. C. Ossa ejusben£ quiescant condita.
O. H. F. Omnibus honoribus functus.
ON A. Omnia.
OO. Omnes, omnino. O. O. Optimus ordo.
OP. Oppidum, opiter, oportet, optimus, opus.
OR. Ornarnentum.
OTIM. Optima?.
P
P. Publius, passus, patria, pecunia, pedes, perpetuus,
pins, plebs, populus, potifex, posuit, potestas, prae-
ses, praetor, pridie, pro, post, provincia, puer, publi-
cus, publics, primus, &c.
PA. Pater, Patricias.
PAL. ET. ARR. COS. Paeto et Arrio consalibus.
P. A. F. A. Postulo an fias auctor.
PAR. Parens, parilia, Parthicus.
PAT. PAT. Pater patriae.
PBLC. Publicus.
PC. Procurator.
P. C. Post consulatum, patres conscripti, patronus co-
loniae, ponendum curavit, praefectus corporis, pactum
conventum.
TED. CXVS. Pedes centum quindecim semis.
PEG. Peregrinus.
P. II. co. L. Pondo duarum semis librarum.
P. II. : : Pondo duo semis et triente.
P. KAL. Pridie kalendas.
POM. Pompei'us.
P. P. P. C. Propria pecunia ponendum curavit.
P. R. C. A. DCCCXLII1I. Post Romam conditam
annis octingentis quadraginta quatuor.
PRO. Proconsul. P. PR. Pro-praetor. P. PRR. Pro-
praetores.
PR,.
ABB [ 16 ] ABB
Abbrevk- I'H. N. Pro nepos. _
tion. P. pi. V. X. Popiili Romani vota decennalia.
' r ' PS. Passus, plebiscitom.
PUD. Pudicus, pudica, pudor.
PUR. Purpureus.
Q
Q. Quinquennalis, quartos, quintus, quando, quantum,
qui, quae, quod, Quintus, Quintius, Quintilianus,
quaestor, quadratum, quaesitus.
Q. R. AN. XXX. Qui bixit, id est vixit, annos triginta.
QM. Quomodo, quem, quOniam.
QQ. Quinquennalis. QQ. V. QuoqUo versum.
Q. R. Quaestor reipublicae.
Q. Y. A. III. M. II. Qui vel quae vixit annos tres,
menses duo.
R
'R. Roma, Romanus, rex, reges, Regulus, rationalis,
Ravennae, recta, recto, requietorium, retro, rostra,
rudera, &c.
RC. Rescriptum.
R. C. Romana civitas.
REF. C. Reficiendum curavit.
REG. Regio.
R. P. RESP. Respublica.
RET. P. XX. Retro pedes viginti.
REC. Requiescit.
RMS. Romanus.
'ROB. Robigalia, Robigo.
RS. Responsum.
RVF. Rufus.
S
S. Sacrum, sacellum, scriptus, semis, senatus, sepultus,
sepulcrum, sanctus, servus, serva, Servius, sequitur,
sibi, situ*, solvit, sub, stipendium, &c.
SAC. Sacerdos sacrificium.
SiE. i><?/. Si£C. S^culum, saeculares.
SAL. Sal us.
S. C. Senatus consultum.
SCI. Scipio.
S. D. Sacrum diis.
' S. EQ. Q. o. ET. P. R. Senatus, equesterque ordo et
populus Romanus.
BEMP. Sempronilfs.
SL. SVL. SYL. Sylla.
S. L. Sacer ludus, sine lingul
S. M. Saciurn manibus, sine manibus, sine malo.
SN. Senatus, sententia, sine.
S. P. Sine pecunia.
S. P. Q. R. Senatus populusque Romanus.
S. P. D. Salutem plurimam dicit.
S. T. A. Sine t'e/sub tutoris auctoritate.
SET. Scilicet.
S. E. T. L. Sit ei terra levis.
SIC. V. SIC. X. Sicut quinquennalia, sic decennalia.
SSTVP. XVIIII. Stipendiis novem decim.
ST. XXXV. Stipendiis triginta quinque.
T
T. Titus, Tullius, tantum, terra, tibi, ter, testamen-
tum, titulus, terminus, triarius, tribun us, turma, tu¬
tor, tutela, &.c.
TAB. Tabula. TABVL. Tabularius.
TAR. Tarquinius.
TB. D. F. Tibi dulcissimo filio.
TB. PL. Tribnnus plebis.
TB. TI. TIB. Tiberius.
T. F. Titus Flavius, Titi filius. Abbievia-
THR. Thrax. , tl^-J
T. L. Titus Livius, Titi libertus. v
TIT. Titulus.
T. M. Terminus, tberm^.
TR. PO. Tribunitia potestas.
TRAJ. Trajahus.
TUL. Tullus w/Tullius.
TR. V. Trium-vir.
TT. QTS. Titus Quintus.
0 vel TH. AN. Mortuus anno.
©XIII. Defunctus viginti tribus.
X V
V. Quinque, quinto, quintum.
V. Vitellius, Volera, Volero, Volusus, Vopiscus, vale,
valeo 5 Vesta, vestalis, vestis, vester, veteranus, vir^
virgb, vivus, vixit, votum, vovit, urbs, usus, uxdr,
victus, victor, &c.
V. A. Veterano assignatum.
V. A. I. D. XI. Vixit annum unum, dies undecim.
V. A. L. Vixit annos quinquaginta.
V. B. A. Viri boni arbitratu.
V. C. Vale conjux, vivens curavit, vir consularis, vir
clarissimus, quintum consul.
VDL. Videlicet.
V. E. Vir egregius, visum est, verum etiam.
VESP. Vespasianus.
VI. V. Sextum-vir. VII. V. Septem-vir. VIII. VIR,
octum-vir.
VIX. A. FF. C. Vixit annos ferme centum.
VIX. AN. x*. Vixit annos triginta.
ULPS. Ulpianus, Ulpius.
V. M. Vir magnificus, vivens mandavit, volens me-
rito.
V. N. Quinto nonas.
V. MUN. Vias munivit.
VOL. Volcania, Voltinia, Volusus.
VONE. Borne.
VOT. V. Votis quinquennalibus.
VOT. V. MULT. X. Votis quinquennalibus, multi*
decennalibus.
VOT. X. Vota decennalia.
VOT. XX. vel XXX. vel XXXX. Vota vicennalia,
ant tricennalia, aut quadragenalia.
V. R. Urbs Roma, votum reddidit.
VV. CC. Viri clarissimi.
UX. Uxor.
X
X. AN. Annalibus decennalibus.
X. K. OCT. Decimo kalendas Octobris.
X. M. Decern millia. X P. Decern pondo.
X. V. Decern vir. XV. VIR. Quindecim-vh*.
Abbreviation of fractions, in Arithmetic and A/~
gebra, is the reducing them to lower terms.
ABB RE VIATOR, in a general sense, a person who
abridges any large book into a narrower compass.
AbbrEVIATORS, a college of 72 persons in the chan¬
cery of Rome, who draw up the pope’s brieves, and re¬
duce petitions, when granted by him, into proper form
for being converted into bulls.
ABB’S (St) Head, a promontory of land in the
southern extremity of'tlre frith ol lortli, in Scotland,
10 miles north of Berwick, and nearly the same di¬
stance
A B D [i
Abb’s stance south of Dunbar. W. Long. 2. N. Lat.
I! 55. 52.
ABBUTALS, signify the buttings or boundings of
. , - 1 towards any point. Limits were anciently distin¬
guished by artificial hillocks, which were called bote-
mines; and hence butting. In a description of the site
of land, the sides on the breadth are more properly ad-
jacentes, and those terminating the length are abbutan-
tes ; which, -in old surveys, were sometimes expressed
by capitarey to head, whence abbutals are now called
head kinds.
ABCEDARY, or ABcedariaN, an epithet given
to compositions, the parts of which are disposed in the
order of the letters of the alphabet: thus we say. Ab¬
ecedarian psalms, lamentations, hymns, &c. $ such are
Psal. xfcv. xxxiv. cxix. &c.
ABCOURT, a town near St Germains, four leagues
from Paris. Here is a brisk chalybeate water, which
is also impregnated with carbonic acid and soda j and
resembling the w'aters of Spa and Ilmington.
ABDALLA, the son of Abdalmotalleb, was the
father of the prophet Mahomet. He was the most
beautiful and modest of the Arabian youth, and when
he married Amina, of the noble race of the Zahrites,
200 virgins are said to have died of jealousy and de¬
spair. Several other Arabians of eminence bore the
same name.
ABDALMALEK, the son of Mirvan, and the 5th
caliph of the race of the Ommiades. He surpassed all
his predecessors in power and dominion ) for in his
reign the Indies \vere conquered in the east, and his
armies penetrated Spain in the west: be likewise ex¬
tended his empire toward the south, by making him¬
self master of Medina and Mecca. Under his reign
the Greek language and character were excluded from
the accounts of the public revenue. If this change,
says Gibbon, was productive of the invention or fami¬
liar use of the Arabic or Indian cyphers, which are
« our present numerals, a regulation of office has promot¬
ed the most important discoveries of arithmetic, alge¬
bra, and the mathematical sciences. His extreme ava¬
rice exposed him to the contempt and derision of his
subjects, who gave him the appellation of the sweat of
a stone; and his fetid breath, it is said, poisoned the
flies which accidentally lighted on his lips, whence he
was called the father of flies. He began his reign in
the 65th of the Hegira, A. D. 684 5 reigned 15 years j
and four of his sons successively enjoyed the caliphate.
Abdalmalek, Ben "Zahar, an eminent physician,
commonly called by the Europeans Avenzoar. See
Avenzoar.
ABDALMOTALLEB, or Abdol Motalleb,
the son of Hashem, the father of Abdalla, and grand¬
father of Mahomet the prophet of the Mussulmans, was,
it is said, of such wonderful comeliness and beauty, that
all women who saw him became enamoured : which
may have given occasion to that prophetic light, which,
according to the Arabians, shone on the foreheads of
him, his ancestors, and descendants ; it being certain
that they were very handsome and graceful men. He
died when Mahomet, of whom he had taken peculiar
care, was only eight or nine years old ; aged, according
to some no, and according to other writers 120.
ABDALONYMUS, or Abdolonymus, in classic
•history, of the royal -family of Sidon, and descended
Vol. I. Part I. f
7 ] A B D
from King Cinyras, lived in obscurity, and subsisted by Abdalony-
cultivating a garden, while Strato was in possession of mus
the crown of Sidon. Alexander the Great having depo- fl
sed Strato, inquired whether any of the race of Cinyras, Abdel'a- ;
was living, that he might set him on the throne. It was
generally thought that the whole race was extinct: but
at last Abdalonymos was thought of, and mentioned to
Alexander 5 who immediately ordered some of his sol¬
diers to fetch him. They found the good man at work,
happy in his poverty, and entirely a stranger to the noise
of arms, with which all Asia was at that time disturb¬
ed ; and they could scarcely persuade him they were in
earnest. Alexander was convinced of his high descent
by the dignity of his person ; but was desirous of learn¬
ing from him in what manner he bore his poverty. “ I
wish,” said Abdalonymus, “ I may bear my new con¬
dition as well : These hands have supplied my necessi¬
ties : I have had nothing, and I have wanted nothing.”
This answer pleased Alexander so much, that he not
only bestowed on him all that belonged to Strato, but
augmented his dominions, and gave him a large present
out of the Persian spoils.
ABDALS, in the eastern countries, a kind of saints
supposed to be inspired to a degree of madness. The
word is perhaps derived from the Arabic, Abdallah,
the servant of God. The Persians call them devaneh
khoda, similar to the Latin way of speaking of prophets
and sibyls, q. d. furentes deo, raging with the god.
Hurried on by excess of zeal, especially in the Indies,
they often run about the streets, and kill all they meet
who are of a different religion. The English sailors
call this running a muck, from the name of the instru¬
ment, a sort of poniard, which they employ on those
desperate occasions. If they are killed, as it commonly
happens before they have done much mischief, they
reckon it highly meritorious ; and are esteemed, by the
vulgar, martyrs for their faith.
ABDARA, or Abdera, in Ancient Geography, a
town of Bmtica in Spain,aPhoenician colony; now Adra,
to the west of Almeira in the kingdom of Granada.
ABDERA, in Ancient Geography, a maritime town
of I hrace, not far from the mouth of the river Nessus, on
the east side. The foundation, according to Herodotus,
was attempt ed to be laid by Timesius the Clazomenian 5
but he was forced by the Thracians to quit the design.
The Teians undertook it and succeeded, and settled in
this place, in order to avoid the insults and oppression of
the Persians.—Several singularities are told of Abdera*. * Plin. lit*.
The grass of the country round it was of such a qua-*XT’
lity, that the horses which fed on it were seized with^XT c 2'
madness. In the reign of Cassander king of Macedon,
this city was so infested with frogs and rats, that the
inhabitants were forced for a time to quit it.—The
Abderites, or Abderitani, were very much derided for
their want of wit and judgment : yet their city has
given birth to several eminent persons j as Protagoras,
Democritus, Anaxarchus, Hecataeus the historian, Nice-
nsetus the poet, and many others, who were mentioned
among the illustrious men.—In the reign of Lysima-
chus, Abdera was afflicted for some months with a most
extraordinary disease j-: this was a burning fever, whose f Tucianus,
crisis was always on the seventh day, and then it left
them ; but it so distracted their imaginations, that they
fancied themselves players. After this, they were ever dm initio.
repeating verses from some tragedy, and particularly
C from
ABB [i
Abdera from the Andromeda of Euripides, as if they had
|1 been upon the stage ; so that many of these pale mea-
Abdication. gre actors were pouring forth their tragic exclama-
  v——' tions Jn every street. This delirium continued till the
winter following; which was a very cold one, and
therefore fitter to remove it. Lucian, who has de¬
scribed this disease, endeavours to account for it in this
manner: Archelaus, an excellent player, acted the
Andromeda of Euripides before the Abderites, in the
height of a very hot summer. Several had a fever at
their coming out of the theatre; and as their imagina¬
tions were full of the tragedy, the delirium which the
fever raised perpetually represented Andromeda, Per¬
seus, Medusa, &c. and the several dramatic incidents,
and called up the ideas of those objects, and the plea¬
sure of the representation, so strongly, that they could
not forbear imitating Archelaus’s action and declama¬
tion : And from these the fever spread to others by in¬
fection.
ABDERAHMA, a Saracen viceroy in Spain, who
revolted and formed an independent principality at Cor¬
dova. He had several successors of the same name.
A viceroy and captain-general of this name led the
Saracens and their followers into France, ravaging the
country wherever they came. At length he was met
at Tours by Charles Martel, who had received rein¬
forcements of Germans and Gepidse; and after many
skirmishes, the Saracen army, in a general action, was
totally routed, and Abderahma was killed with 370,000
Moors. This great event, which first broke the power
of the Saracens, and taught the Europeans that they
were not invincible, happened about the year 732 of
the Christian era, and of the Hegira 114.
ABDEST, a Persian word, properly signifying the
water placed in a bason for washing the hands ; but is
used to imply the legal purifications practised by the
Mahometans before prayer, entering the mosque, or
reading the Alcoran.
ABDIAS of Babylost, one of the boldest le¬
gend writers, who boasted that he had seen Christ, that
he was one of the 70 disciples, had been eye-witness
of the actions and prayers of several of the apostles
at their deaths, and had followed into Persia St Simon
and St Jude, who, he said, made him the first bishop
of Babylon. His book, entitled Historia Cer tarn inis
Apostolici, was published by Wolfgang Lazius, at Basil,
1551 ; and has passed through several editions in other
places.
ABDICxVITON, the action whereby a magistrate,
or person in office, renounces and gives up the same be¬
fore the term of service is expired.
This word is frequently confounded with resigna¬
tion ; but differs from it: for abdication is done purely
and simply, whereas i-esignation is in favour of some
third person. In this sense, Dioclesian is said to have
abdicated the crown ; Philip IV. of Spain resigned
it. It is said to be a renunciation, quitting, and re¬
linquishing, so as to have nothing further to do with a
thing ; or the doing of such actions as are inconsistent
with the holding of it. On King James’s leaving the
kingdom, and abdicating the government, the lords
proposed that the word desertion should be employed;
but the commons thought that it was not sufficiently
comprehensive. Among the Roman writers it is more
particularly used for the act whereby a father discard-
3
B ] A B D
ed or disclaimed his son, and expelled him the family. Abdication,
It is distinguished from exhceredatio or disinheriting, in Abdotla-
that the former was done in the father’s lifetime; the ,
latter, by will at his death : so that whoever was abdi¬
cated, was also disinherited ; but not vice versa.
ABDOLLATIPH, a physician, was born at Bag¬
dad in the 557th year of the Hegira, A. D. 1161.
Having been educated with the greatest care by his fa¬
ther, who was himself a man of learning, and resided
in a capital which abounded with the best opportuni¬
ties of instruction, he early distinguished himself not
only by proficiency in rhetoric, history, and poetry,
but also in the more severe studies of Mohammedan
theology. To the acquirement of medical knowledge
he applied with especial diligence; and it was chiefly
with this view that, in his 28th year, he left Bagdad,
in order to visit other countries. At Mosul, in Meso¬
potamia, whither he first directed his course, be found
the attention of the students entirely confined to the
chemistry of that day, with which he was already suf¬
ficiently acquainted. Having spent a year at Mosul,
he removed to Damascus in Syria, where the gramma¬
rian Al Kindi then enjoyed the highest reputation ;
and with whom he is said to have engaged in a eontro-
versy on some subjects of grammar and philology, which
terminated in favour of Abdollatiph.
At this time, Egypt had yielded to the arms of Sa-
ladin, who was marching against Palestine for the pur¬
pose of wresting that country from the hands of the
Christians : yet towards Egypt Abdollatiph was irre¬
sistibly impelled by that literary curiosity which so
strongly marked his character. To the successful pro¬
secution of this journey, the consent and patronage of
the sultan were indispensably necessary : but when the
Arabian physician arrived at the camp near Acca,
(the ancient Ptolemais, now Acre) to solicit his power¬
ful protection, he found the Saracens bewailing a
defeat which they had recently experienced ; a de¬
feat so honourable to the skill and valour of our Eng¬
lish Richard, that nothing less than the late match¬
less defence of this fortress, by a handful of British sea¬
men and marines, could have detracted from its im¬
portance, or eclipsed its glory. Hence the lofty spirit
of the sultan was plunged into a morbid melancholy,
which excluded the traveller from his presence ; but
the favours which he received evinced the munificence
of Salad in, and he persisted in his design of exploring
the wonders of Egypt. One strong inducement which
influenced him on this occassion, was the instruction
which he hoped to derive from the society of the cele¬
brated Maimonides ; and by Al Kadi Al Fadel, who
had earnestly but unavailingly solicited him to return
to Damascus, he was furnished with such recommenda¬
tions as procured for him the most flattering reception
at Cairo. His talents and his virtues confirmed and
increased the kindness with which he was welcomed
on his first arrival; and the Egyptians of the highest
rank continued to vie with each other in cultivating his
friendship.
From this intercourse, however, with the great and
the learned, Abdollatiph withdrew, in order to pre¬
sent himself before the sultan; who, having concluded
a truce with the Franks, then resided in the Holy
City. Here he was received by Saladin with every
expression of esteem for his character and attainments.
A B D [i
Abdolla-j To a dignified politeness, and condescending freedom,
tiph this prince is said to have added a munificent liberality
II. in the patronage of science and of art; and of this
Abdoranm- fact^ we a laudable instance in the pen-
> ^ ‘ ■ sion which he granted to Abdollatiph, and which a-
mounted to 30 dinars per month. After the death ot
the sultan, this sum was raised by his sons to 100 di¬
nars, till the ambition of their uncle forced them from
the throne of Egypt and of Syria ; and thus was our
traveller compelled to resort again to Damascus, after
a short abode at Jerusalem : where his lectures, and
his treatises were equally the objects of general admira¬
tion.
In the capital of Syria, his pursuits were of the same
nature, and attended with similar success. His prac¬
tice as a physician was extensive. To the students in
the college of A1 Aziz, he freely communicated the
ample stores of his cultivated mind; and in the works
which he composed on the principles of medicine, he dis¬
played that depth of research and that felicity of illus¬
tration, which are the rare effects of genius combined
with diligence, judgment, and erudition.
Such is the testimony given to the exertions of our
author j and it is added that they were rewarded at
Damascus not with fame alone, but also with riches.
Yet neither the applause of the wise nor the patronage
of the wealthy had power to detain him, when other
scenes or other society promised to gratify his curiosity,
or to increase his knowledge. On this account pro¬
bably, he left Damascus, and, after having visited
Aleppo, resided several years in Greece. With the
same view he travelled through Syria, Armenia, and
Asia Minor, still adding to the number of his works ;
many of which he dedicated to the princes whose
courts he visited, or whose subjects he laboured to in¬
struct.
After having thus enriched his own mind, and con¬
tributed so successfully to the improvement of others,
sentiments of devotion induced him to undertake a pil¬
grimage to Mecca. In the mean time, however, he
seems to have experienced the full force of that de¬
sire, which in the native of Switzerland has often been
known to supersede every other,—the desire of once
more beholding the place which gave him birth. He
wished also to present the fruits of his travels, and
of his studies, to the caliph A1 Mostanser Billah. He
therefore eagerly journeyed towards Bagdad, which,
after so long an absence, he no doubt beheld with emo¬
tions of tender exultation : but scarcely had he reached
it when he was suddenly taken ill, and died in his 63d
year, A. D. 1223. ^ 150 treatises which he com¬
posed on various subjects of medicine, natural philoso¬
phy and polite literature, only one, entitled Historice
./Egypti Compendium, has survived the ravages of time.
This manuscript, the only one which has been discover¬
ed, was brought to Europe by the celebrated orientalist
Pococke, and is now preserved in the Bodleian library.
Dr White of Oxford published an edition of the origi¬
nal Arabic, with an elegant Latin version in 4to, in
1800. See Abdallatif, Supplement.
ABDOMEN, in Anatomy, is that part of the trunk
of the body which lies between the thorax and the bot¬
tom of the pelvis. See Anatomy.
ABDOMINALIS, or Abdominal Fishes, con-
Abelatd.
9 ] ABE
stitute the Fourth Order of the Fourth Class of Ani-Abdomina
inals, in the Linnaean system. See Ichthyology. les
ABDUCTION, in Logic, a kind of argumentation,
by the Greeks called apagogc, wherein the greater ex- (
treme is evidently contained in the medium, but the
medium not so evidently in the lesser extreme as not to
require some farther medium or proof to make it ap¬
pear. It is called abduction, because, from the con¬
clusion, it draws us on to prove the proposition as¬
sumed. Thus, in the syllogism, “ All whom God ab¬
solves are free from sin j but God absolves all who are
in Christ; therefore all who are in Christ are free from
sin,”—the major is evident; but the minor, or assump¬
tion, is not so evident without some other proposition
to prove it, as, “ God received full satisfaction for sin
by the sufferings of Jesus Christ.”
ABDUCTOR, or Abducent, in Anatomy, a name
given to several of the muscles, on account of their ser¬
ving to withdraw, open, or pull back the parts to which
they belong.
ABEL, second son of Adam and Eve, was a shep¬
herd. He offered to God some of the firstlings of his
flock, at the same time that his brother Cain offered
• the fruits of the earth. God was pleased with Abel’s
oblation, but displeased with Cain’s ; which so exasper*
ated the latter, that he rose up against his brother and
killed him. These are the only circumstances Moses
relates of him ; though, were we to take notice of the
several particulars to which curiosity lias given birth
on this occasion, they would run to a very great length.
But this will not be expected. It is remarkable, that
the Greek churches, who celebrate the feasts of every
other patriarch and prophet, have not done the same
honour to Abel. His name is not to be found in any
catalogue of saints or martyrs till the 10th century;
nor even in the new Roman martyrology. However he
is prayed to, with some other saints, in several Roman
litanies said for persons who lie at the point of death.
ABEL-Keramitn, or Vincarum, beyond Jordan, in thfe
country of the Ammonites, where Jephthah defeated
them, seven miles distant from Philadelphia ; abounding
in vines, and hence the name. It was also called Abela.
AsEL-Meholah, the country of the prophet Elisha,
situated on this side Jordan, between the valley of Jez-
reel and the village Bethmael, in the plains of Jordan,
where the Midianites were defeated by Gideon. Judges
vii. 22.
Abel Mi%raim, fcalled also the Threshing-floor of
Atad), signifying the lamentation of the Egyptians ;
in allusion to the mourning for Jacob, Gen. i. 3, 10,
II. Supposed to be near Hebron.
Abel-Mosc/i, or Abelmusch, in Botany, the trivial
name of a species of the Hibiscus.
AsEL-Sattim, or Sittim, a town in the plains of Moab,
to the north-east of the Dead sea, not far from Jordan,
where the Israelites committed fornication with the
daughters of Moab : So called, probably, from the great
number of sittim trees there.
ABELARD, Peter, an eminent scholastic philo¬
sopher of France, the son of Berenger, of noble des¬
cent, was born at Palais near Nantes in Bretagne, in
the year 1079. Abelard had received from nature a
vigorous and active mind; but it was his lot to live at
a period, when logic, metaphysics, and polemic theo-
C 2 logy,
ABE [20] ABE
logy, constituted a learned education, when abstruse
speculations and verbal subtleties occupied the ingenu¬
ity of literary men, and distinguished talents for dispu¬
tation led to honour and preferment. Devoted to let¬
ters by his father’s appointment, and by his own incli¬
nation, his literary attainments could at this time only
be exhibited in the field of scholastic philosophy ; and,
that he might be fitted for his destined career ot life,
he was placed, after a previous course of grammatical
studies, under the tuition of Rosceline, a celebrated
metaphysician, and founder of the sect of the Nomi¬
nalists. Under the instructions of this able master, at
the early age of sixteen, he furnished himself with a
large store of scholastic knowledge, and acquired a
subtlety and quickness of thought, a fluency ot speech,
and facility of expression, which were necessary quali¬
fications in scholastic disputation.
Having spent some time in visiting the schools of se¬
veral provinces, after the example of the ancient phi¬
losophers who travelled in search of wisdom, in the
twentieth year of his age he fixed his residence in the
university of Paris, then the first seat of learning in
Europe. The master, William de Champeaux, was at
that time in high repute for his knowledge of philoso¬
phy, and his skill in the dialectic art*, to him he com¬
mitted the direction of his studies, and was at first cou-
tented with receiving instruction from so eminent a
preceptor. De Champeaux was proud of the talents
of Ills pupil, and admitted him to his friendship. But
the aspiring youth ventured to contradict the opinions
of his master, and in the public school held disputations
with him, in which he was frequently victorious. The
jealousy of the master and the vanity of the pupil na¬
turally occasioned a speedy separation.
Elated by success, and confident of his own powers,
Abelard, without hesitation, at the age of twenty-two,
opened a public school of his own. “ l w-as young in¬
deed,” says he j “ but confident of myself, my ambi¬
tion had no bounds : I aspired to the dignity of a pro¬
fessor, and only waited till I could fix on a proper
place to open my lectures.” Melun, a town ten
leagues from Paris, where the court frequently resided,
was the place which he chose for this bold display of
his talents. But it W'as not without considerable diffi¬
culty that Abelard executed his plan 5 for De Cham¬
peaux, who regarded him as a rival, openly employ¬
ed all his interest against him. Abelard at length
prevailed, his school was opened, and his lectures were
attended by crowded and admiring auditories. Em¬
boldened by this success, and perhaps stimulated by
unworthy resentment, Abelard resolved to maintain an
open contest with his master, and for this purpose re¬
moved his school to Corbeil near Paris. The dispu¬
tants frequently met in each other’s schools j and the
contest was supported on each side with great spirit,
amidst crowds of their respective scholars. The young
champion was in the end victorious, and his antagonist
was obliged to retire.
Constant application and violent exertions had now
so far impaired Abelard’s health, that it was become
necessary for him to interrupt his labours ; and, with
the advice of his physician, he withdrew to his native
country. Two years afterwards, he returned to Cor¬
beil, and found that De Champeaux had taken the mo¬
nastic habit among the regular canons in the convent
2
of St Victor ; but that he still continued to teach rhe- Abelard,
toric and logic, and to hold public disputations in the- y——*
ology. Returning to the charge, he renew'ed the con¬
test, and his opponent was obliged to acknowledge
himself defeated ; and the scholars of De Champeaux
deserted him, and went over in crowds to Abelard.
Even the new professor, who had taken the lormer
school of De Champeaux, voluntarily surrendered the
chair to the young philosopher, and requested to be
enrolled among his disciples. A triumph so complete,
while it gratified the vanity of Abelard, could not fail
to provoke the resentment of his old master, who had
influence to obtain the appointment of a new professor,
and drive Abelard back to Melun. De Champeaux’s
motive for this violent proceeding rvas soon perceived j
even his friends were ashamed of his conduct *, and he
retired from the convent into the country. When A-
belard was informed of the flight of his adversary, he
returned towards Paris, and took a new station at the
abbey on Mount St Genevieve. His rival, the new
professor, rvas unequal to the contest, and was soon
deserted by his pupils, who flocked to the lectures of
Abelard. De Champeaux too returning to his mo¬
nastery, renewed the struggle ; but so unsuccessfully,
that Abelard was again victorious.
During a short absence, in which Abelard visited
his native place, De Champeaux was preferred to the
see of Chalons. The long and singular contest between
these philosophers terminated ; and Abelard, perhaps
for want of a rival to stimulate his exertions, or possi¬
bly through envy of the good fortune of his rival, de¬
termined to exchange the study and profession of phi¬
losophy for that of theology. He therefore quitted his
school at St Genevieve, and removed to Eaon, to be¬
come a scholar of Anselm. From this celebrated ma¬
ster he entertained high expectations ; but they were
soon disappointed. On attending his lectures, he found
that, though he possessed uncommon fluency of lan¬
guage, he left his auditors without instruction. “ You
would have thought,” says Abelard, “ he was kindling
a fire, when instantly the whole house was filled with
smoke, in which not a single spark was visible : he
was a tree covered with a thick foliage, which pleased,
the distant eye; but on a nearer inspection, there
was no fruit to be found : I went up to this tree in full
expectation, but I saw that it was the fig tree which the
Lord had cursed.” (Hist. Calamit.). Abelard gra¬
dually retired from these unprofitable lectures, but
without offering offence either to the veteran prolessor,
or his scholars. In conversation one of them asked
him, what he thought of the study of the Scriptures ?
Abelard replied, that he thought the explanation of
them a task of no great difficulty ; and, to prove his
assertion, he undertook to give a comment, the next
day, upon any part of the Scriptures they should men¬
tion. They fixed upon the beginning of the prophecy
of Ezekiel •, and the next morning he explained the
passage in a theological lecture, which was heard with
admiration. For several successive days, the lectures
were at the request of the audience continued ; the
whole town pressed to hear them 5 and the name of
Abelard was echoed through the streets of Laon. An¬
selm, jealous of the rising fame of this young theolo¬
gian, prohibited his lectures, under the pretence that
so young a lecturer might fall into mistakes, which
would
ABE [ 21 ] ABE
AbelawL would bring discredit upon his master. Abelard,
—y—j whose ambition required a wider field than that of
Laon, obeyed the prohibition, and withdrew. He re¬
turned to Paris, whither the fame of his theological
talents had arrived before him, and opened his school
with his lectures on the prophecy of Ezekiel. His au¬
ditors were delighted 5 his school was crowded with
scholars 5 and he united in his lectures the sciences of
theology and philosophy with so much success, that
multitudes repaired to his school from various parts of
France, from Spain, Italy, Germany, Flanders, and
Great Britain.
Hitherto Abelard has appeared with high distinc¬
tion, as an able disputant, and a popular preceptor:
we must now' view him under a different character,
and, when nearly arrived at the sober age of forty,
see him, on a sudden, exchanging the school of philo¬
sophy for the Bower of pleasure, and even disgracing
himself, as will too plainly appear in the sequel, by
forming and executing a deliberate plan for'the seduc¬
tion of female innocence. It happened that there was
at this time, resident in Paris, Heloise, the niece of
Fulbert, one of the canons of the cathedral church, a
lady about eighteen years of age, of great personal
Beauty, and highly celebrated for her literary attain¬
ments. Abelard, whose vanity had been satiated with
fame, and the vigour of whose mind was now ener¬
vated by repose, found himself inclined to listen to the
voice of passion. He beheld with ardent admiration
the lovely Heloise, and confident that his personal at¬
tractions were still irresistible, he determined to capti¬
vate her affections. Fulhert, who doubtless thought
himself honoured by the visits of so eminent a scholar
and philosopher, received him into his house as a learn¬
ed friend. He was soon afterwards prevailed upon,
By a handsome payment which Abelard offered for his
board, to admit him into his family j and, apprehend¬
ing no hazard from a man of Abelard’s age and pro¬
fession, confidentially requested him to undertake the
instruction of Heloise. Abelard accepted the trust,
but, as it seems, without any other intention than to
betray it. The houi*s of instruction were employed in
other lessons than those of learning and philosophy 5
and to such a master as Abelard, it was not surprising
that Heloise was an apt scholar. Fulbert’s respectful
opinion of the philosopher, and his partiality for his
niece, long concealed from him an amour, which was
become the subject of general conversation. At length
the discovery burst upon him like a clap of thunder.
Upon discovering her pregnancy, it was thought ne¬
cessary for her to quit her uncle’s house, and Ahelard
conveyed her to Bretagne, where his sister was pre¬
pared to receive them. Here Heloise was delivered of
a son, to whom they gave the whimsical name of Astro-
lahus. Abelard, upon the birth of the child, pro¬
posed to Fulbert to marry his niece, provided the mar¬
riage might be kept secret : Fulbeft consented, and
Abelard returned to Bretagne to fulfil his engagement.
Heloise, partly out of regard to the honour of Abe¬
lard, whose profession bound him to celibacy, and
partly from a romantic notion that love like hers ought
not to submit to ordinary restraints, at first gave Abe¬
lard a peremptory refusal. He, however, at last pre¬
vailed, and they were privately married at Paris. He¬
loise from this time met with severe treatment from
her uncle, which furnished Abelard with a plea for Abelard,
removing her from his house, aad placing her in the —-v—
abbey of Benedictine nuns, in which she had been
educated. Fulbert concluded, perhaps not without
reason, that Abelard had taken this step, in order to
rid himself of an incumbrance which obstructed his fu¬
ture prospects. Deep resentment took possession of his
soul, and he meditated revenge. He employed seve¬
ral ruffians to enter his chamber by night, and inflict
upon his person a disgraceful and cruel mutilation.
The deed was perpetrated $ the ruffians were taken,
and suffered, according to the Lex Tulionis, the pu¬
nishment they had inflicted ; and Fulbert, for his sa¬
vage revenge, was deprived of his benefice, and his
goods were confiscated. Unable to support his morti¬
fying reflections, Abelard resolved to retire to a con¬
vent. At the same time he formed the selfish resolu¬
tion, that, since Heloise could no longer be his, she
should never be another’s, and ungenerously demanded
from her a promise to devote herself to religion ; and
even insisted upon her taking the holy vow before him,
suspecting, as it seems, that if he first engaged himself,
she might violate her promise, and return to the world j
a circumstance, with which she afterwards thus ten¬
derly reproached him : “ In that one instance, I con¬
fess, your mistrust of me tore my heart; Abelard, I
blushed for you.” Heloise submitted to the harsh in¬
junction, professed herself in the abbey of Argenteuil,
and receiving the religious habit, exclaimed in thi
words of Cornelia:
 0 maxime conjux !
0 thalamis indigne meis l hoc juris hahcbat
In tantuni fortmia caput 9 cur impia nupsir ■
Si miserum factura fui 2 nunc accipe poctias,
Sed quas sponte luam. Lucan; -
“ Ah ! my once greatest lord ! Ah ! cruel hour !
Is thy victorious head in Fortune’s power!
Since miseries my baneful love pursue,
Why did I wed thee, only to -undo !
But see, to death my willing neck I bow; N
Atone the angry gods by one kind blow.” Rowi;
A few days after Heloise had taken her vows, Abe¬
lard assumed the monastic habit in the abbey of St De¬
nys, determined as it seems to forget,, in hope of being
forgotten by the world. However, his admirers and
scholars in Paris were unwilling that the world should
lose the benefit of his labours, and sent deputies to en¬
treat him to return to his school. After some delibe¬
ration, he again yielded to the call of ambition; and
at a small village in the country, he resumed his lec¬
tures, and soon-found himself surrounded with a nume¬
rous train of scholars. The revival of his popularity
renewed the jealousy of other professors, who took the
first opportunity of bringing liim under ecclesiastical
censure. A treatise which he published at this time,
entitled, “ The Theology of Abelard,” was supposed
to contain some heretical tenets. A synod was called at
Soi ssons in the year 1121 ; the work was condemned
to he burnt, and Abelard was commanded to throw it
into the flames. After being involved in other con¬
troversies, new charges were brought against him, and
he fled to the convent of St Ayoul at Provins in Cham¬
pagne, the prior of which was his intimate friend.
The place of his retreat was soon discovered, and
threats-
ABE [ 22 ]
threats and persuasions were in vain employed to recal
him: at last he obtained permission to retire to some
solitary retreat, on condition that he should never again
become a member of a convent.
The-spot which he chose was a vale in the forest
of Champagne, near Nogent upon the Seine. Here
Abelard, in 1122, erected a small oratory, which he
dedicated to the Trinity, and which he afterwards en¬
larged, and consecrated to the Third Person, the Com¬
forter, or Paraclete. Here he was soon discovered,
and followed by a train of scholars. A rustic college
arose in the forest, and the number of his pupils soon
increased to six hundred. Jealousy again provoked the
exertions of his enemies, and he was meditating his es¬
cape, when, through the interest of the duke ol Bre¬
tagne, and with the consent of the abbot of St Denys,
he was elected superior of the monastery of St Gildas,
in the diocese of Vannes, where, though not without
frequent and grievous vexations, he remained several
years.
About this time, Suger the abbot of St Denys, on
the plea of an ancient right, obtained a grant for an¬
nexing the convent of Argenteuil, of which Heloise
was now prioress, to St Denys, and the nuns, who
were accused of irregular practices, were dispersed.
Abelard, informed of the distressed situation of Heloise,
invited her, with her companions, eight in number, to
take possession of the Paraclete.
It was during Abelard’s residence at St Gildas, that
the interesting correspondence passed between him and
Heloise, which is still extant. The letters of Heloise,
in this correspondence, abound with proofs of genius,
learning, and taste, which might have graced a better
age. It is upon these letters that Mr Pope has formed
his “ Epistle from Eloisa to Abelarda piece which
is entitled to the highest praise for its poetical merit,
but which deviates in many particulars from the ge¬
nuine character and story of Heloise, and culpably vio¬
lates moral propriety. Here, too, Abelard probably
wrote his “ Theology,” which again subjected him to
persecution. His opinions were pronounced heretical
by a council; and although he appealed to Borne, the
judgment of the council was confirmed by the pope}
and he was sentenced, unheard, to perpetual silence and
imprisonment. By the interposition of some friends,
however, and by a submissive apology, he obtained his
pardon, with permission to end his days in the mona¬
stery of Cluni.
At Cluni he was retired, studious, and devout. The
monks of the convent importuned him to resume the
business of instruction. In a few occasional efforts he
complied with their solicitation ; and his lectures were
heard with undiminished applause. But his health and
spirits were much enfeebled, and gradually declined
till he died in the 63d year of his age, A. D. 1142. His
body was sent to Heloise to be interred in the convent
of the Paraclete. Heloise survived her husband 21
years, a pattern of conjugal affection and monastic vir¬
tue •, and was buried in the same grave, as appears by
the following epitaph :
Hk
Sub eodem marmore, jacent
Hujus Monasterii
Conditor, Petrus Abelardus,
A B' E
El abbatissa prima, Heloiscty
Olim studiis, ingenio, infaustis nuptiis
Et pcenitentia,
Nunc ceterna, ut speramus, felicitate,
Conjuncti.
Petrus ohiit 11 Aprilis 1142.
Heloisa 17 Mail 1163.
The amour, which has given Abelard so much cele¬
brity, will remain an eternal blot upon his memory.
It was not a juvenile indiscretion of which Abelard
was guilty, but according to his own confession, the
seduction of innocence, deliberately planned, and re¬
solutely executed. It was accompanied with breach
of confidence, violation of duty, and degradation of
character. Except in the grant of the Paraclete as an
asylum to Heloise and her sisterhood, an uniform self¬
ishness appears in Abelard’s conduct. In Heloise, the
criminality, though not obliterated, was palliated by
youthful ardour and inexperience j and extreme sensi¬
bility, romantic attachment, noble generosity, and dis¬
interested invincible constancy, united to throw a veil
over human frailty. Considered apart from this dis¬
graceful affair, Abelard appears with more advantage.
His writings, indeed, will not give the reader a high
idea of his genius or taste : but it cannot be question¬
ed, that the man who could foil the first masters of the
age at the weapons of logic, could draw round him
crowded and admiring auditors, and could collect
scholars from different provinces and countries where-
ever he chose to form a school, must have possessed ex¬
traordinary talents. Had his love of truth been equal
to his thirst of fame, and had his courage in adhering to
his principles been equal to his ingenuity in defending
them, his sufferings and persecutions might have ex¬
cited more regret, and his title to honourable remem¬
brance would have been better established. Upon the
whole, of Abelard it may perhaps with truth be said,
that he was too vain to be truly great, and too selfish to
be eminently good, and that his character is rather
adapted to excite admiration than to command respect.
His principal works, written in Latin, are, “ An
Address to the Paraclete on the Study of the Scrip¬
tures ; Problems and Solutions ; Sermons on the Festi¬
vals ; A Treatise against Heresies j An Exposition of
the Lord’s Prayer ; A Commentary on the Bomans j
A System of Theology; and his Letters to Heloise
and to others.” (Gen. Biegi).
ABEL tree, or Abele Tree, an obsolete name
for a species of the poplar. See Populus, Botany
Index.
ABELIANS, Abeolites, or Abelonians, in
church history, a sect of heretics mentioned by St Au¬
stin, which arose in the diocese of Hippo in Africa,
and is supposed to have begun in the reign of Arca-
dius, and ended in that of Theodosius. Indeed it was
not calculated for being of any long continuance.
Those of this sect regulated marriage after the example
of Abel; who, they pretended, was married, but died
without ever having known his wife. They therefore
allowed each man to marry one woman, but enjoined
them to live in continence ; and, to keep up the sect,
when a man and woman entered into this society, they
adopted a boy and a girl, who were to inherit their
goods, and to marry upon the same terms of not be¬
getting
Abelard
II
Abeliaas.
A B E [
Abolians but of adopting two of different
y sexes.
.Aberbi’o- ABELLA, anciently a town of Campania, near tbe
t!:'cl4, river Clanius. The inhabitants were called Abellani,
v and said to have been a colony of Chalcidians. The
nux Aveliana, called also Prcenestina, or the hazel nut,
takes its name from this town, according to Macrobius.
Now Avella.
ABELLINUM, anciently a town of the Hirpini,
a people of Apulia ; distant about a mile from the ri¬
vulet Sabatto, between Beneventum and Salernum.
Pliny calls the inhabitants Abellinaies, with the epithet
Protopi, to distinguish them from the Abellinates Marsi.
Now AvelUno. E. Long. 15. 20. N. Lat. 21. o.
ABEN EZRA, Abraham, a celebrated rabbi, born
at Toledo in Spain, called by the Jews, The wise, great,
and admirable Doctor, was a very able interpreter of
the Holy Scriptures; and was well skilled in grammar,
poetry, philosophy, astronomy, and medicine. He was
also a perfect master of the Arabic. His principal
work is, “Commentaries on the Old Testament,” which
is much esteemed: these are printed in Bomberg’s and
Buxtorf’s Hebrew Bibles. His style is clear, elegant,
concise, and much like that of the Holy Scriptures :
he almost always adheres to the literal sense, and every¬
where gives proofs of his genius and good sense; he,
however, advances some erroneous sentiments. The
scarcest of all his books is entitled “ Jesud Mora
which is a theological work, intended as an exhortation
to the study of the Talmud. He also wrote Elegantice
Grammatica, in octavo at Venice in 1548. He
died in 1174, aged 75.
Asen Meller, a learned rabbin, who wrote a com¬
mentary on the Old Testament in Hebrew, entitled,
“ The Perfection of Beauty.” This rabbin generally
follows the grammatical sense and the opinions of Kim-
chi. The best edition is that of Holland.
ABENAS, a town of France, in the department of
Ardesche ; and upon a river of the same name, at the
foot of the Cevennes. E. Long. 4. 20. N. Lat. 44. 37.
ABENEL gauby, a fixed star of the second or
third magnitude, in the south scale of the constellation
Libra.
ABENSPEIIG, a small town of Germany, in the
kingdom of Bavaria, and in the government of Mu¬
nich. It is seated on the river Abentz, near the Da¬
nube. E. Long. ii. 38. N. Lat. 48. 45.
ABERA\ ON, a borough town of Glamorganshire
in Wales, governed by a portreeve. It had a market,
which is now discontinued. The vicarage is discharged,
and is worth 45I, clear yearly value. It is seateel at
the mouth of the river Avon, 194 miles west of Lon¬
don. W. Long. 3. 35. N. Lat. 51. 40.
ABERBB.OTHICK, or Arbroath, one of the
royal boroughs of Scotland, situated in the county of
Angus, about 40 miles N. N. E. of Edinburgh, in
W. Long. 2. 29. and N. Lat. 56. 36. It is seated
on the discharge of the little river Brothic into the
sea, as the name imports, Aber in the British implying
such a situation. It is a small but flourishing place,
well built, and still increasing. Tbe town has been in
an improving state for the last forty years, and the
number of inhabitants greatly augmented ; which is
owing to the introduction of manufactures. The po¬
pulation in 1801 was above 7000. The inhabitants
3 ] ABE
consist chiefly of weavers of coarse brown linens, and Aberbro-
some sail-cloth ; others are employed in making white ttuck
and coloured threads : the remainder are either en- II
gaged in the shipping of the place, or in the necessary
and common mechanic trades. The brown linens, or ■ . y'
osnaburgs, were manufactured here before any encou¬
ragement was given by government, or the linen com¬
pany erected at Edinburgh. It appears from the books
of the stamp-office in this town, that seven or eight
hundred thousand yards are annually made in the place,
and a small district round. Besides this export and
that of thread, much barley and some wheat is sent
abroad. The foreign imports are flax, flax-seed, and
timber, from the Baltic. The coasting trade consists
of coals from Borrowstounness, and lime from Lord
Elgin’s kilns in Fife. At this place, in default of a
natural harbour, a tolerable artificial one of piers has
been formed, where, at spring tides, which rise here fif¬
teen feet, ships of two hundred tons can come, and of
eighty at neap tides; but they must lie dry at low wa¬
ter. This port is of great antiquity: there is an agree¬
ment yet extant between the abbot and the burghers of
Aberbrothick, in 1194, concerning the making of the
harbour. Both parties were bound to contribute their
proportions ; but the largest fell to the share of the
former, for which he was to receive an annual tax pay¬
able out of every rood of land lying within the bo¬
rough. The glory of this place was the abbey, whose
very ruins give some idea of its former magnificence.
It was founded by William the Lion in 1178, and de¬
dicated to our celebrated primate Thomas a Becket.
The founder was buried there ; but there are no re¬
mains of his tomb, or any other, excepting that of a
monk of the name of Alexander Nicol. The monks
were of the Tyi’onensian order; and were first brought
from Kelso, whose abbot declared those of this place,
on the first institution, to be free from his jurisdiction.
The last abbot was the famous Cardinal Beaton, at the
same time archbishop of St Andrew’s, and, before his
death, as great and absolute here as Wolsey was in
England. King John, the English monarch, granted
this monastery most uncommon privileges ; for, by-
charter under the great seal, be exempted it a teloniistt
consuetudine in every part of England, except London.
At Aberbrothick is a chalybeate water, similar to those
of Peterhead and Glendve.
ABERCONWAY, or Conway, in Caernarvon¬
shire, North Wales; so called from its situation at the
mouth of the river Conway. It is a handsome town,
pleasantly situated on the side of a hill, and has many
conveniencies for trade ; notwithstanding which it is
the poorest town in the county. It was built by Ed¬
ward I. and had not only walls, but a strong castle,
which is now in ruins. Here is an inscription on the
tomb of one Nicholas Hooks, importing that he was
the one-and-fortieth child of his father, and had twen¬
ty-seven children himself. It is 229 miles from Lon¬
don. W. Long. 3. 47. N. Lat. 53. 20.
ABERCROMBY, The Honourable Alexan¬
der (Lord Abercromby), a judge in the courts of ses¬
sion and justiciary in Scotland, was the youngest son of
George Abercromby, of Tullibody, Esq. of a respec¬
table family in Clackmannanshire, and was born on
the 15th October 1745. Mr Abercromby was early
destined for the profession of the law, and with this
view.
AHererom-
by.
A B £ '[ H !] ABE
view lie was educated at the university of Edinburgh,
Where he passed through the requisite course of lan¬
guages, philosophy, and law, and was admitted advo¬
cate in the year 1766 : but neither during the time ot
his education, or for some years after he entered his
professional career, did he give much promise 01
those eminent abilities and that assiduous application
which afterwards distinguished him as a pleader and
a judge. The vivacity of his disposition, and the
sprightliness of his manners, led him to prefer the
gayer amusements of life, and the society of men of
fashion and pleasure, to the arduous prosecution of phi¬
losophical studies, and to the less inviting and more
barren paths of legal disquisitions* When, however,
either during his academical course, or the first years
of his practice at the bar, occasions required the exer¬
tion of his talents, the quickness of his perception, and
the acuteness and strength of his understanding, enabled
bim to display such powers of attention and applica¬
tion to business as are seldom acquired but by regular
and uniform habits of industry, and by the force' of
constant application. But, to attain that distinction
and eminence to which he aspired, and to secure that
independence which the patrimony of a younger son
of a family, more respectable than opulent, could not
afford him, he found it necessary to withdraw from
those scenes 6f amusement and pleasure, and to seclude
himself from that society which his gaiety and agree¬
able manners had enlivened and entertained, and to
think seriously of applying to the labours of his profes-
aion. With much credit to himself, and with undimi-
nished vigour of mind, he threw off the character of
the man of fashion, and devoting his time and talents
to the toilsome detail of business as a lawyer, by his
successful efforts he soon gave solid proofs of the di¬
stinguished abilities which he possessed. About this
time, he was engaged as counsel in a cause in which
public curiosity and opinion were much interested and
divided. This cause, which was of a very intricate
nature, afforded an opportunity of making a more emi¬
nent display of his professional talents. By a speech
which he delivered on this occasion, conspicuous for
accurate discrimination, strength of argument, and im¬
pressive eloquence, he gave a favourable presage of his
'future celebrity. The marks of approbation which he
now received probably taujiht him to appreciate those
talents which had hitherto remained concealed or un¬
employed, and encouraged him to call them forth into
exertion. #
In 1780, Mr Abercromby resigned the office ot
gheriff depute of Stiflingshire, which he had held for
several years, and accepted ot that of depute-advocate,
with the hope of extending liis employment in the line
of his profession. In this step he was not disappoint¬
ed •, for his reputation and business rapidly increased,
and soon raised him to the first rank of .lawyers at the
Scotch bar. In the midst of the laborious duties of
his profession. Mr Abercromby did not entirely pre¬
clude himself from indulging in the elegant amuse¬
ments of polite literature. He was one of that so¬
ciety who set on foot two periodical papers, the Mirror
and Lounger, published at Edinburgh ; the former in
1779, and the latter in 1785. To the Miiror he con-»
tributed ten papers, and to the Lounger nine. The
names of the authors have been published in the late
editions of these works, which renders it unnecessary Abermut-
to point out those papers of which Mr Abercromby by.
was the author. nr "v " "
In May 1792, he was appointed one of the judges
of the court of session, and in December following he
was called to a seat in the court of justiciary. Lord
Abercromby continued to discharge the arduous du¬
ties of these important offices till summer 1795, when
he was seized with a pectoral complaint, of which he
died on the 17th November the same year, at Ex*
mouth in Devonshire, where he had gone for the reco¬
very of his health.
As a lawyer, Lord Abercromby had acquired great
reputation. His papers on law-cases were distinguish¬
ed for precision and perspicuity. His speeches were
elegant, animated, and eloquent. With the most pa¬
thetic feeling he pled the cause of the unfortunate ^
while he could assume the severe tone of virtuous in¬
dignation in rebuking injustice and oppression. With
such qualifications, added to the strictest attention and
'punctuality, he could not fail to become an able and
respectable judge. In this high station, his deport¬
ment was grave, dignified, and decided. His elocution
was solemn and deliberate •, and his opinions, delivered
in this manner, had an impressive effect. Avoiding
a detail of circumstances, and never arguing the cause
as a lawyer, he pronounced with brevity and precision
the opinion of a judge drawn from its striking and pro¬
minent features. His only writings are the papers in
the periodical publications already alluded to. They
are marked by an easy turn of expression, manly and
virtuous sentiments, and, when the subject required it,
by delicate irony or unaffected tenderness. {Phil.
Prans. Edtn.).
Abercromby, Sir Ralph, knight of the Bath,
and a lieutenant-general in the British army, an elder
brother of the preceding, was born in the year 1738.
Being destined for the army, he obtained, in May
17y6, a cornet’s commission in the 2d dragoon guards j
and rose, April 24. 1762, to the rank of a captain in
the 3d regiment of horse. Ascending through the in¬
termediate gradations of rank, he was appointed, No¬
vember 3. 1781, to the colonelcy of the 103d infan¬
try. September 28. 1787, he was promoted to the
Tank of major-general. November 5. I795> ^ie °^"
tained the command of the 7th regiment of dragoons*
Having been nearly 40 years in the army, having
served with honour in two wars, and being esteemed
•one of the ablest, coolest, and most intrepid officers in
the whole British forces, he was employed on the con¬
tinent under his royal highness the duke of York, in
the commencement of the present war. In the action
on the heights of Gateau, he commanded the advanced
guard •, and was wounded at Nimeguen. He con¬
ducted the march of the guards from Deventer to 01*
densaal, in the retreat of the British out of Holland, ia
the winter of 1794-5. In August 1795, he was ap¬
pointed to succeed Sir Charles Grey, as commander in
chief of the British forces in the West Indies. March
24,1796, Grenada was suddenly attacked and taken
by a detachment of the army under his orders. He
afterwards obtained possession ol the settlements of De*
marara and Issequibo, in South America. St Lucia
was next taken by more difficult exertions, in which
the ability of this eminent commander was signally dis¬
played.
Abe [25] abe
Abercrom- played. St Vincent’s was, by the middle of June, ad- other person j but it is some consolation to those who Aj),,
by. ded to the British conquests. Trinidad, in February tenderly loved him, that, as his life was honourable, so ~ 'by™'"'
'■ 1797, shared the same fate. He returned the same was his death glorious. His memory will be recorded Aberdeen.
year to Europe, and, in reward for such important ser- in the annals of his country—will be sacred to every ' v 
vices, was invested with the red ribbon, appointed to British soldier—and embalmed in the recollection of a
the command of the regiment of Scots Greys, entrust- grateful posterity.” His remains were conveyed on
ed with the governments of the Isle of Wight, Fort board Admiral Lord Keith’s flag ship to Malta, attend-
George, and Fort Augustus, and raised to the high mi- ed by Colonel Sir John Dyer, and were interred in the
litary rank of lieutenant-general. He held, for a commandery of the grand master, with the highest
time, the chief command of the forces in Ireland. In military honours.
that command, he laboured to maintain the discipline A monument to his metnory, to be erected in St
of the army, to suppress the rising rebellion, and to Paul’s church, London, at the public expence, was vo-
protect the people from military oppression, with a care ted by the house of commons. His widow has been
worthy alike of the great general and the enlightened created a peeress, and a pension of 2000I. a-year for
and beneficent statesman. From that station he was her and three lives settled on the family. (Ge»i. JiGg-.).
called to the chief command of the forces in Scotland. ABERDEEN, the name of two cities in Scotland
His conduct in this distinguished appointment gave called the O/nf and Nete To^, situated on the German
universal satisfaction. When the great enterprise ocean, in W. Long. 2. 8. and N. Lat. 57. 8.
against 'Holland was resolved upon, Sir Ralph Aber- Aberdeen, O/d, is a place of great antiquity,
cromby was called again to command, under his royal According to tradition, it was of note in the reign of
highness the duke of 'iork. The difficulties of the Gregory, who conferred on it some privileges about 7
ground, the inclemency of the season, delays, though the year 893. In 1004, Malcolm II. founded a bi-
inconvenient, yet_ unavoidable, the disorderly move- shopric at a place called Mortlich in Banffshire, in
ments of the Russians, and the timid duplicity of the memory of a signal victory which he there gained over
Dutch, disappointed our hopes of that expedition, the Danes j which bishopric was translated to Old A-
But, by the Dutch, the French, the British, it was berdeen by David I.; and in 1163, the then bishop of
confessed, that even victory, the most decisive, could Aberdeen obtained a new charter from Malcolm IV.
not have more conspicuously proved the talents of this There is extant a charter of Alexander II. by which,
illustrious officer. His country applauded the choice, in 1217, the king grants to Aberdeen the same privi-
when he was sent with an army to dispossess the French leges he had granted to his town of Perth,
of Egypt. His experience in Holland and Flanders, The Old Town lies about a mile to the north of (he
and in the climate of the West Indies particularly, fit- New, at the mouth of the river Don, over which is a
ted him for this new command. He accomplished fine Gothic bridge, of a single arch, greatly admired,
some of the first duties of a general, in carrying his ar- which rests on a rock on each side. This arch’,
my in health, in spirits, and with the requisite intelli- said to have been built by a bishop of Aberdeen about
gence and supplies, to the destined scene of action, the year 1290, is 67 feet wide at the bottom, and 344
The landing, the first dispositions, the attacks, and the feet high above the surface of the river, which at ebb
courage opposed to attack, the spirit with which his tide is "here 19 feet deep. The Old Town was former-
army appears to have been by confidence in their lead- ly the seat of the bishop, and had a large cathedral com¬
er inspired, the extraordinary superiority which the monly called St Machar's. Two very antique spires.
British infantry under his command evinced to that and one aisle, which is used as a church, are now the
which vyas thought the bravest and best disciplined in- only remains of it. The bishopric was founded in the
fantry in the world, demonstrate that all the best time of David I. as above mentioned. The cathedral
qualities of the greatest commanders w'ere in Sir bad anciently two rows of stone pillars across the
Ralph Abercromby united—that they were all sum- church, and three turrets ; the steeple, which was the
moned-forth into activity in the glorious achieve- largest of these turrets, rested upon an arch, supported'
meuts amid which he fell.—In his private character he by four pillars. In this cathedral there was a fine li-
was modest, disinterested, benevolent, and honourable, brary ; but about the year 1560, it was almost totally
General Lord Hutchinson, who succeeded him in the destroyed. But the capital building is the King’s Col-
command, in the- dispatches with the account of his lege on the south side of the town, which is a large and
death, has given a fine eulogium on his character as a stately fabric. It is built in form of a square, with cloi-
soldier, and strongly expressive of the high estimation in sters on the south side. The chapel is very ruinous with-
which he was held by the army.—“We have sustain- in ; but there still remains some wood work of exquisite
ed an irreparable loss in the person of our never suffi- workmanship. This was preserved by the spirit of the
ciently to he lamented commander in chief, Sir Ralph principal at the time of the Reformation, who armed
Abercromby, who was mortally wounded in the ac- his people and checked the blind zeal of the barons of
tion, and died on the 28th ol March. I believe he the Mearns ; who, after stripping the cathedral of its
was wounded eaily, but he concealed his situation from roof, and robbing it of the bells, were going to violate
those about him, and continued in the field, giving his this seat of learning. They shipped their sacrilegious
orders with that coolness and perspicuity which had booty, with an intention of exposing it to sale in Hol-
ever marked his character, till long after the action land: but the vessel had scarcely'gone out of port,
was over, when he fainted through weakness and loss when it perished in a storm with alfits ill-gained lad-
of blood. Were it permitted for a soldier to regret ing. The steeple is vaulted with a double cross arch j
any one who has fallen in the service of his country, above which is an imperial crown, supported by ehffit
I might he excused for lamenting him more than any stone pillars, and closed with a globe and two gilded
Vol. I. Part I. f D ^ ciW,
ABE [26
Abcritefcrt.
ferosstes. In the year 1631 this Steeple was thrown
down by a storm, but was soon after rebuilt in a more
stately form. This college was founded in 1494, by
William Elphinston bishop of this place, lord chancel¬
lor of Scotland in the reign of James III. and lord
privy seal in that of James IV. But James IV. claim¬
ed the patronage of it, and it has since been called the
Kino's College. The number of students in 1816-17
Was* 87. This college, and the Marisehal College in
the New Town, form one university, called the Uni¬
versity of King Charles. The library is large, but
not j-emarkable for many curiosities. Hector Boethius
was the first principal of the college ; and sent for from
Paris for that purpose, on an annual salary of forty
merks Scots, at thirteen pence each. The square tower
on the side of the college w-as built by contributions
from General Monk and the officers under him then
quartered at Aberdeen, for the reception of students ;
of which about a hundred attend the college, many of
whom lodge in it.
Aberdeen, New, is the capital of the shire of A-
berdeen. For extent, trade, and beauty, it greatly
exceeds any town in the north ol Scotland. It is built
on a hill or rising ground, and lies on a small bay
formed by the Dee, tleep enough for a ship of 200 tons,
and above two miles in circumference.—The buildings
(Which are of granite from the neighbouring quarries)
are generally four stories high j and have lor the most
part, gardens behind them, which give it a beautiful
appearance. On the high street is a large church which
formerly belonged to the Franciscans. This church
Was begun by' Bishop William Elphmston 5 and finish¬
ed by Gavin Dunbar, bishop ol Aberdeen, about the
1500. Bishop Dunbar is said likewise to have built
the bridge over the Dee, which consists of seven
arches. In the middle of Castle street is an octagon
building, with neat has relievos of the kings of Scot¬
land from James I. to James VII. The town-house
makes a good figure, and lias a handsome spire in the
centre. The grammar school is a low but neat build¬
ing. Gordon’s hospital is handsome } in front is a good
statue of the founder : it maintains forty hoys, who are
apprenticed at proper ages. The infirmary is a large
plain building, and sends out between eight and nine
hundred cured patients annually. But the chief pub¬
lic building in the New Town is the Mari'schai Col¬
lege, founded by George Keith earl Marischal, in the
year 1 ^93 ; but since greatly augmented With addi¬
tional buildings. In both the Marischal and King’s
college the languages, mathematics, natural philosophy,
divinity, &c. are taught. The number of students in
the session of 1816-17 was 212, besides 105 students
of divinity', alternately attending each university. The
convents in Aberdeen were, one of Mathurines or of
the order of the Trinity, founded by William the Lion,
who died in 1214 ; another of Dominicans, by Alex¬
ander II. j a third of Observantines, a building of great
length in the middle of the city, founded by the citi-
xens and Mr Richard Vans, &c. y and a fourth of Car¬
melites, or White Friars, founded by Philip de Arbuth-
not in 1540.
Aberdeen, including the Old Town, is supposed to
contain 25,000 inhabitants. Its trade is considerable,
but might be greatly extended by an attention to the
white fisheries.
] A B a
The harbour was long a great detriment to its trade, Aberdeen.
and occasioned the loss of many lives and much pro-  1
perty. A stranger could never depend upon finding it
as he left it 5 while vessels lay at anchor in the road till
the tide should make, they have often been Wrecked by
storms which suddenly arose. It Was very narrow at
the mouth, having the easterly rocky point of the
Grampian mountains on the south, and a flat blowing
sand on tbe north, extending along the coast for many
miles. By the easterly and north-east storms the sand
was driven in a long ridge across the harbour’s mouth,
and formed what was called the 6a>\ Upon this bar
the depth of water at low tide was sometimes not above
three feet. Clearing away the sand, though but a par¬
tial and temporary remedy, was a matter of great ex¬
pence to the community. If it was cleared one week
so as to have five or six feet of water at ebb, a fresh
storm the next week undid all that had been done. ThtJ
town at last came to the resolution of erecting a Strong
pier on the north side of the harbour. This pier is
1200 feet in length, and gradually increases in thick¬
ness and height as it approaches to the sea, where the
head or rounding is 60 feet diameter at the base, and
the perpendicular elevation is 38 feet. The whole fa
built of granite, which is a very durable stone : many
of the outside stones are above three tons weight, with
hewn beds. It was built under the direction of Mr
Smeaton ; and other extensive improvements have since
been executed, the whole of which have cost about
120,000k About 150 vessels belong to the port of
Aberdeen, whose aggregate burden amounts to 17,131
tons. The principal exports are grain, fish, thread,
hosiery, cotton and linen goods.
Aberdeen, like most of the other royal burghs of
Scotland, has long been encumbered by its debts. In
1789, the town debt was something less than i2,oool.
but from various causes it had increased so rapidly
since that period, that in 1819 it amounted to 232,745!.
10s. The whole of the towm revenues being insufficient
to discharge the interest of this debt, the treasurer was
under the necessity in February 1817 of declaring the
burgh insolvent j arid in consequence of this step all
the burgh property, feu-duties, and funds, were made
over to trustees. The magistrates then in office, in
an address to their successors, published 19th Septem¬
ber 1817, ascribed the embarrassed state of the burgh
chiefly to the secrecy and concealment fostered by the
system of self-election, and to the want of some control
on the part of the citizens over the town’s a flairs. The
election that followed not having been regularly con¬
ducted, was challenged by tbe burgesses, and set aside
by the Court of Session. It was now expected that
the magistracy would be restored by a poll election—
the mode sanctioned by precedent in such cases •, but
the Privy Council issued a warrant in August 1818,
directing the persons who had been in office previous
to the irregular election, to meet and elect a new set
of magistrates. This proceeding excited great dissatis¬
faction, not only because it appeared to be an infringe¬
ment on the rights of the burgesses, but because it re¬
called those very men to office by whose mismanage¬
ment the affairs of the city had been brought to a state
of insolvericy, and most of whom had denounced the
system as pernicious. The committee of the .House of
Commons which satin 1819 on the subject of burgh
reform,
ABE L 27 ] ABE
Aberdeen reform, reported on the case of Aberdeen. From this
[] report, it appears that the town lands, which were for-
Aberdeen- merly very extensive, had been alienated, with the re-
servation of very inadequate feu-duties. The fishings
‘.M, v■ 1 * the Dee and Don, now producing about xo,oool. a-
yeai', were alienated for an annual feu-duty of 27I. ys.
3d. The lands belonging to charitable establishments,
of which the magistrates were only trustees, had been
sold, and the proceeds applied to the city expenditure.
The amount due to the various charities when the
town became insolvent was about 8o,oool. for which
the charities receive only four per cent. The sum of
127,000!. had been borrowed under an act of Parlia¬
ment, for building wet and graving docks, but the
works were never executed. These, and other large
sums borrowed by the magistrates, appear to have been
dissipated in some ill-conducted plans of local improve¬
ment, which have made very trilling returns 5 and not
only the citizens were ignorant of the burdens which
were thus accumulating over their property, but very
few of the magistrates themselves seem to have fully
understood the state of the town’s affairs. A state¬
ment, purporting to be an abstract of the town’s affairs,
was annually exhibited to the burgesses at Michaelmas ;
hut this appears rather to have been for the purpose of
deception than information *, for, in 1810, when the
town actually owed upwards of 140,000!. the whole
debt, according to the statement shewn to the burges¬
ses, was only 6874I. 17s. 4d. The facts brought to
light by the insolvency of Aberdeen, have roused the
burgesses of most of the large burghs in Scotland to
attempt some reform in the municipal government.
Whether they shall succeed, may depend on circum¬
stances ; but it cannot be doubted that the existing
system has a great tendency to encourage a wasteful
expenditure, to repress public spirit, and to create
jealousies between the magistrates and those whose
welfare it should be their study to promote.
From a round hill, at the west end of the city, flow
two springs, one of pure water, and the other of a
quality resembling the German Spa. The population
of Aberdeen in 1811 was 21,639. Aberdeen, with
Aberbrothick, Brechin, Montrose, and Inverbervy, re¬
turns one member to parliament.
ABEBDEENSHIRE, an extensive county in Scot¬
land, is bounded on the north and east by the German
ocean ; on the south by the counties of Kincardine,
Angus, and Perth ; and on the west by Banff, Mur¬
ray, and Inverness shires. It extends in length about
85 miles, from south-west to north-east, and about 40
in breadth, from the mouth of the river Dee to where
it is bounded by the shire of Banff. Its extent in
square miles may be estimated at 1986. It compre¬
hends the districts of Marr, Garioch, Aberdeen Pro¬
per, and great part of Buchan. The district of Marr,
which may be considered as the centre of Scotland,
is wild, rugged, and mountainous ; some of the hills
rising with precipitous sides, to the height of 2000
feet above the level of the sea. The sides of the hills
are covered with extensive natural forests; in many
places impenetrable to human footsteps. Buchan is less
hilly ; but very barren, bleak and inhospitable to the
view. The rest of the country is more fertile, having a
gradual descent from the central district eastward to the
sea. The coast is in general very bold and rocky.
The Boilers or Buffers of Buchan, arrest the attention Aberdeen-
of all strangers, by their stupendous craggy precipices, shire.
The soil, in so extensive a district, is as various as can 'v
be well supposed. The state of agriculture in the in¬
terior parishes of the county is very rude $ but the ex¬
ample of many patriotic proprietors is producing won¬
ders even in the most barren soils. Prejudices in hus¬
bandry, when deeply rooted, are with difficulty over¬
come ; but even these are yielding to a more regular
and modern system. A navigable canal, extending 18
miles, from the harbour oi Aberdeen to Ir.verury, was
opened in 1807. It is 23 feet wide, by 3 feet 9 inches
deep; and is raised to the height of 168 feet above low
water mark by 17 locks. The principal rivers of
Aberdeenshire are, the Dee and Don, the Ythan, f|je
Ugie, and the Cruden. The Deveron also forms its
boundary rvith Banffshire for many miles. All the
rivers have been long celebrated for the excellence
of the salmon vvith which they abound. The rents of
the fishings are estimated at 2480I. per annum, and
the produce at upwards of 10,000!. Besides the fish¬
ings of the rivers, the sea coast of Aberdeenshire
abounds with all kinds of excellent fidi ; and a num¬
ber of fishing vessels are fitted out from the sea ports of
the county, particularly Peterhead and Fraserburgh.
Under the article of fisheries, we may mention the
celebrated pearl fishing in the river Ythan. In this
river some pearls have been found, which sold singly
so high as 2I. and 3I. With regard to mineralogy,
little wealth of that description has hitherto been found
in this county. The granite quarries are the most va¬
luable articles. From those in the neighbourhood of
Aberdeen, 12,00c tons and upwards are annually ex¬
ported’ to London, the value of which may be esti¬
mated at about 8400I. There are several quarries in
the parish of Aberdour, which yield excellent mill¬
stones. There is a quarry of blue slate wrought in the
parish of Culsalmond, and a vein of manganese in the
neighbourhood of Old Aberdeen. The county abounds
with limestone ; but, from the want of coal, it cannot
be wrought to much advantage, except near a sea port.
In Old Machar and Old Deer parishes, about 35,000
bolls of lime are annually burnt, valued at 2750I. Some
kelp is made on the coast, the value of which must be
considerable. Plumbago, amethysts, emeralds, agates,
asbestos, talc, mica, schistus, and other purious minerals,
are found in many parts of the county. The principal
manufacture carried on in the county, is the knit¬
ting of stockings and hose, in which all the women,
and most of the old men and boys, are employed the
greater part of the year. The other manufactures are
too trifling to deserve particular notice. Aberdeen¬
shire contains three royal boroughs; Aberdeen, Kin-
tore, and Inverury : and several large and hand¬
some towns ; as Peterhead, Fraserburgh, Huntly, and
Old Meldrum. It is divided into 85 parishes.
The following account of the population of Aber¬
deenshire, at two different periods, is taken from the
Statist. Hist, of Scotland.
Parishes- Population
m 1755.
I Aberdeen, Old, or Old Machar 4945
Aberdeen, New, including 7 o
footdee or fittie j I078i
Aberdour
D 2
*397
Population
in 1790—98.
8107
l6l20
1306
Parishes.
ABE
Aberdeen¬
shire.
_ , 7 j-opuiauun
Parishes. ijss-
Aboyne I^95
5 Alford 99°
Auchlndore &39
Auchterless 1264
Belhelvie I471
Birse 1126
10 Bourty 52S
Cabrach 9^°
Cairny 2690
Chapel of Garioch 13 51
Clatt 559
15 Clunie 994
Coldstone, Logie 1243
Coul 751
Crathie and Braemarr 2671
Crimond 7^5
20 Cruden 2549
Culsalmond ^io
Cu ihnie, now annexed toLeochel——
Daviot 975
Deer, New 23I3
2$ Deer, Old 2813
Drumblade 1125
Drumoak 7^°
Dyce 3^3
Echt 1277
30 Ellon 2523
Eintray 9°5
Forbes 45^
Forgue 1802
Foveran 1981
35 Fraserburgh 1682
Fyvie 2528
Gartley I32^
Glass 1093
Glenbucket 430
40 Glenmuick, &c. 2270
Huntly 1900
Insch 995
Inverury , 73°
Keig 499
45 Keith-hall mi
Kemnay 643
Kildrummie 562
Kincardine O’Niel 1706
King Edward J352
50 Kinuellar 39^
Kinnethmont 79I
Kintore 973
Leochel, including Coshnie 1286
Leslie 3x9
53 Logie Buchan 575
Longside 1979
Lonmay 3 674
Lumphanan 682
Machar, New J191
60 Meldrum, Old I6o3
Methlick 1385
Midmarr 979
Monquhitter 997
Monymusk I°25
65 Newhills 959
Oyne * 643
i
[
Population
in 179c—98.
1050
663
59°
1264
1318
x 300
456
700
2600
1035
425
885
1132
766
2251
9x7
2028
745
95°
2800
3267
886
692
352
963
1830
851
37°
3778
1230
2060
2194
1800
776
449
2117
3600
900
732
475
838
611
426
2075
I577
342
830
812
642
418
5°9
1792
1650
621
1030
1490
I035
945
I50°
1130
1181
630
28
] A
Parishes.
Peterculter
Peterhead
Pitsligo
70 Premnay
Bathen
Bayne
Bhynie and Essey
Skene
73 Slains
Strathdon
Strichen
Taidand
Tarvas
80 Tillynessle
Tough
Towie
Turreff
Tyrie
85 Udney
B E
Population Population
in 1755. in 179c—98.
755 1002
2487 4100
1224 1300
448 450
I527 173°
1131 1173
836 68r
1251 1233
1286 1117
1750 1524
1158 1400
1300 1050
2346 1690
335 412
cyo 360
656 550
1897 2029
S96 949
1322 1137
Aberdeeifw
shire
' '«
Abernethy.
Total, 116,836 122,921
Population in 1811 - _ - I35>°75
See Aberdeenshire, Supplement.
ABEBDOUB, a small town in Fifeshire, Scotland,
on the frith of Forth, about ten miles north-west of
Edinburgh. In old times it belonged to the Viponts j
in 1126 it was transferred to the Mortimers by mar¬
riage, and afterwards to the Douglases. William, lord
of Liddesdale, surnamed the Flower of Chivalry, in the
reign of David II. by charter conveyed it to James
Douglas, ancestor of the present noble owner the earl
of Morton. The monks of Inchcolm had a grant for a
burial place here from Allan de Mortimer, in the reign
of Alexander III. The nuns, usually styled the Poor
Clares, had a convent at this place.
ABEBFOBD, a market town in the west riding of
Yorkshire, stands in a bottom } and is about a mile in
length, and pretty well built. It is near a Boman
road, which is raised very high, and not far from th&
river Cocky between which and the town there is tha
foundation of an old castle still visible. It is 181 miles
north-by-west from London. AV. Long. 2. 45'
Lat. 33. 32.
ABEBGAVENNY, a large, populous, and flou¬
rishing town in Monmouthshire, seated at the conflu¬
ence of the rivers Usk and Gavenny. It has a fine
bridge over the Usk, consisting of fifteen arches ; and
being a great thoroughfare from the west part of W ales
to Bath, Bristol, Gloucester, and other places, is well
furnished with accommodation for travellers. It is
surrounded with a wall, and had once a castle. It car¬
ries on a considerable trade in flannels, which are
brought hither for sale from the other parts of the
county. It is 142 miles distant from London. W.
Long. 3. N. Lat. 51.47. Abergavenny appears to
have been the Gibbanium of Antoninus, and the town
of Usk his Burriutn. Population 2813 in 1811.
ABEBNETHY, John, an eminent dissenting mi¬
nister, was the son of Mr John Abernethy, a dissenting
minister in Coleraine, and was born there on the
19th of October 1680. When about nine years of age
he was separated from his parents, his father being ob¬
liged
ABE [ 29 ] ABE
A1)ernetliy, liged to attend some public affairs in London j and bis
Abenatioa. mother, to shelter herself from the mad fury of the
Irish rebels, retiring to Derry, a relation who had him
under his care, having no opportunity of conveying
him to her, carried him to Scotland ; and thus he
escaped the hardships and dangers of the siege of Derry,
in which Mrs Abernethy lost all her other children.
He afterwards studied at the university of Glasgow’,
where he remained till he took the degree of master ot
arts ; and, in 1708, he was chosen minister of a dis¬
senting congregation at Antrim, in which situation he
continued above 20 years. About the time of the Ban-
gorian controversy (for which see HoaDLEY), a dis¬
sension arose among his brethren in the ministry t£t
Belfast, on the subject of subscription to the Westmin¬
ster Confession of Faith. In this controversy he became
a leader on the negative side, and incurred the censure
of a general synod. The agitation of parties began to
be also felt among the members of his congregation.
Many of them deserted him ; which induced him to
accept of an invitation to settle in Dublin, where his
preaching was much admired. Here he continued for
ten years, respected and esteemed. But his labours
were terminated by a sudden attack of the gout in the
head, to which he had been subject ; and he died in
December 1740, in the 60th year of his age. His
writings, as was his character, are distinguished for
candour, liberality, and manly sentiment. He published
a volume of sermons on the Divine Attributes ; after
his death a second volume was published by his friends j
and these were succeeded by four other volumes on
different subjects : all of which have been greatly ad¬
mired.
ABERNETHY, a small town in Strathern, a district
of Perthshire in Scotland, situated on the river Tay, a
little above the mouth of the F.rne. It is said to have
been the seat of the Pictish kings j and was afterwards
the see of an archbishop, which was afterwards trans¬
ferred to St Andrew’s. In the churchyard of Aber¬
nethy, there is a tower of singular construction. It is
of a circular form, is 74 feet in height, and 48 feet in
circumference. The tower at Brechin is the only one
of a similar structure in Scotland. The researches of
the antiquarian have hitherto failed in discovering the
uses of these insulated buildings. It has been sup¬
posed that they are of Pictish origin, and that they
were intended as places of confinement for religious
devotees in performing penance, and hence they have
been denominated towers of repentance. Population
1635 in 1811.
ABERRATION, in Astronomy, an apparent mo¬
tion of the celestial bodies, produced by the progressive
motion of light, and the earth’s annual motion in her
orbit.
This effect may be explained and familiarized by
the motion of a line parallel to itself, much after the
manner that the composition and resolution of forces are
explained.
M. de Maupertuis, in his “ Elements of Geography,”
gives a familiar and ingenious idea of the aberration,
in this manner : “ It is thus,” says he, “ concerning
the direction in which a gun must be pointed to strike
a bird in its flight: instead of pointing it straight to
the bird, the fowler will point a little before it, in the
path of its flight, and that so much the more as the
flight of the bird is more rapid, with respect to the Aberration
flight of the shot.” In this way of considering the ' ^
matter, the flight of the bird represents the motion of
the earth, and the flight of the shot represents the mo¬
tion of the ray of light.
MrClairaut too, in the Mem. de l’Acad. des. Sciences
for the year 1746, illustrates this effect in a familiar
way, by supposing drops of rain to fall rapidly and
quickly after each other from a cloud, under which a
person moves with a very narrow tube ; in which case
it is evident that the tube must have a certain inclina¬
tion, in order that a drop which enters at the top, may
fall freely through the axis of the tube, without touch¬
ing the sides of it 5 which inclination must be more or
less according to the velocity of the drops in respect
to that of the tube j then the angle made by the di¬
rection of the tube and of the failing drops, is the aber¬
ration arising from the combination of those two mo¬
tions.
This discovery, which is one of the brightest that
have been made in the present age, we owe to the ac¬
curacy and ingenuity of the late Dr Bradley, astro¬
nomer royal ; to which he was occasionally led by the
result of some observations which he had made with a
view to determine the annual parallax of the fixed stars,
or that which arises from the motion of the earth in its
annual orbit about the sun.
The annual motion of the earth about the sun had
been much doubted, and warmly contested. The de~^
fenders of that motion, among other proofs of the re¬
ality of it, conceived the idea of adducing an incon¬
testable one from the annual parallax of the fixed stars,
if the stars should be within such a distance, or if in¬
struments and observations could be made with such ac^
curacy, as to render that parallax sensible. And witfc
this view various attempts have been made. Before the
observations of M. Picard, made in 1672, it was the
general opinion, that the stars did not change their po¬
sition during the course of a year. Tycho Brahe and
Ricciolus fancied that tb*ey had assured themselves of it
from their observations5 and from hence they concluded
that the earth did not move round the sun, and that
there was no annual parallax in the fixed stars. M. Pi¬
card, in the account of his Voyage d' Uranibourg, made
in 1672, says that the pole star, at different times of
the year, lias certain variations, which he had observed
for about 10 years, and which amounted to about 40"
a year ; from whence some, who favoured the annual
motion of the earth, were led to conclude that these va¬
riations were the effect of the parallax of the earth’s
orbit. But it was impossible to explain it by that pa¬
rallax $ because this motion was in a manner contrary
to what ought to follow only from the motion of the
earth in her orbit.
In 1674 Dr Hook published an account of observa¬
tions which he said he had made in 1669, and by
which he had found that the star y Draconis was
more northerly in July than in October : observations
which, for the present, seemed to favour the opinion of
the earth’s motion, although it be now known that
there could not be any truth or accuracy in them.
Flamsteed having observed the pole star with his
mural quadrant, in 1680 and the following years, found
that its declination was 40" less in July than in De¬
cember ; which observations, although very just, wem
yet
ABE
Abemuioa. yet, however, improper for proving the annual parallax ;
w«—iiml he recommended the making of an instrument or
15 or 23 feet radius, to be firmly fixed on a strong
foundation, for deciding a doubt which was otherwise
not soon likely to be brought to a conclusion.
In tins state of uncertainty and doubt, then, Dr
Bradley, in conjunction with Mr Samuel Molineux,
in the year 1725, formed the project of verifying, by
a series of new observations, those which Dr Hook had
communicated to the public almost 50 years before.
And as it was his attempt that chiefly gave rise to this,
so it was his method in making the observations, in
some measure, that they followed j for they made choice
of the same star, and their instrument was constructed
upon nearly the same principles : but had it not great¬
ly exceeded the former in exactness, they might still
have continued in great uncertainty as to the parallax
of the fixed stars. For this, and many other convenient
and useful astronomical instruments, philosophers are in¬
debted to the ingenuity and accuracy of Mr Graham.
The success of the 'experiment evidently depending
so much on the accuracy of the instrument, this be¬
came a leading object of consideration. Mr Moli-
neux’s apparatus then having been completed, and fit¬
ted for observing, about the end of November 1725?
on the third day of December following, the bright
star in the head of Draco, marked y by Bayer, was
for the first time observed, as it passed near the zenith,
and its situation carefully taken with the instrument.
The like observations were made on the fifth, eleventh,
and twelfth days of the same month ; and there ap¬
pearing no material difference in the place of the star,
a farther repetition of them, at that season, seemed
needless, it being a time of the year in which no sen¬
sible alteration of parallax, in this star, could soon be
expected. It was therefore curiosity that chiefly urged
Dr Bradley, who was then at Kew, where the instru¬
ment was fixed, to prepare for observing the star again
on the 17th of the same month $ when, having adjust¬
ed the instrument as usual, he perceived that it passed
a little more southerly this day than it had done before.
Not suspecting any other cause of this appearance, it
was ascribed to the uncertainty of the observations, and
that either this, or the foregoing, was not so exact as
had been supposed. For which reason they proposed
to repeat the observation again, to determine from what
cause this diflerence might proceed : and upon doing
it, on the 20th of December, the doctor found that the
star passed still more southerly than at the preceding
observation. This sensible alteration surprised them
the more, as it was the contrary way from what it
would have been, had it proceeded from an annual pa¬
rallax of the star. But being now pretty 'well satisfied,
that it could not be entirely owing to the want of ac¬
curacy in the observations, and having no notion of
any thing else that could cause such an apparent mo¬
tion as this in the star ; they began to suspect that some
change in the materials or fabric of the instrument it¬
self might have occasioned it. Under these uncer¬
tainties they remained for some time •, but being at
length fully convinced, by several trials, of the great
exactness of the instrument 5 and finding, by the gra¬
dual increase of the star’s distance from the pole, that
there must be some regular cause that produced it;
they took care to examine very nicely, at the time of
3
[ 30 ] ABE
.Hov. each observation, how much the variation was j til! Aberration.
about the beginning of March 1726, the star was found 1 —'
to be 20" more southerly than at the time of the first
observation : it now indeed seemed to have arrived at
its utmost limit southward, as in several trials, made a-
bout this time, no sensible difference was observed in
its situation. By the middle of April it appeared to
be returning back again towards the north ; and about
the beginning of June, it passed at the same distance
from the zenith, as it had done in December, when it
was first observed.
From the quick alteration in the declination of the
star at this time, increasing about one second in three
days, it was conjectured that it would now proceed
northward, as it had before gone southward, of its pre¬
sent situation ; and it happened accordingly ; for the
star continued to move northward till September fol¬
lowing, when it again became stationary; being then
near 20" more northerly than in June, and upwards off
gp7 more northerly than it had been in March. From
September the star again returned towards the south,
till, in December, it arrived at the same situation in
which it had been observed twelve months before, al¬
lowing for the difference of declination on account of
the precession of the equinox.
This was a sufficient proof that the instrument had
not been the cause of this apparent motion of the star ;
and yet it seemed difficult to devise one that should be
adequate to such an unusual effect. A nutation of the
earth’s axis was one of the first things that offered itself
on this occasion; butitrvas soon found to be insufficient;
for though it might have accounted for the change ot
declination in y Draconis, yet it would not at the same
time accord with the phenomena observed in the other
stars, particulaily in a small one almost opposite in right
ascension to y Draconis, and at about the same distance
from the north pole of the equator : for though this star
seemed to move the same way, as s nutation of the
earth’s axis would have made it; yet changing its de¬
clination but about half as much as y Draconis in the
same time, as appeared on comparing the observations
of both made on the same days, at different seasons of
the year, this plainly proved that the apparent motion
of the star was not occasioned by a real nutation ; for
bad this been the case, the alteration in both stars
would have been nearly equal.
The great regularity of the observations left no room
to doubt, but that there was some uniform cause by
which this unexpected motion was produced, and
which did not depend on the uncertainty or variety of
the seasons of the year. Upon comparing the observa¬
tions with each other, it was discovered that, in both
the stars above mentioned, the apparent difference of
declination from the maxima, was always nearly propor¬
tional to the versed sine of the sun’s distance from the
equinoctial points. This was an inducement to think
that the cause, whatever it was, had some relation to the
sun’s situation with respect to those points. But not
being able to frame any hypothesis, sufficient to account
for ail the phenomena, and being very desirous to
search a little farther into this matter, Dr Bradley be¬
gan to think of erecting an instrument for himself at
Wanstead ; .that, having it always at hand, he might
with the more ease and certainty inquire into the laws
of this new motion. The consideration likewise of
being
ABE [
Aberration being able, by another instrument, to confmti the truth
'--“"''y 1 of the observations hitherto made with that of Mr Mo-
Jineux, was no small inducement to the undertaking ;
but the chief of all was, the opportunity he should
thereby have of trying in what manner other stars
should be affected by the same cause, whatever it might
be. For Mr Malineux’s instrument being originally
designed for observing y Draconis, to try whether it
had any sensible parallax, it was so contrived, as to be
capable of but little alteration in its direction ; not a-
bove seven or eight minutes of a degree : and there be¬
ing but few stats, within half that distance from the
zenith of Kew, bright enough to be well observed, he,
could not, with his instrument, thoroughly examine
how this cause affected stars that were differently situ¬
ated, with respect to the equinoctial and solstitial points
of the ecliptic.
These considerations determined him j and by the
contrivance and direction of the same ingenious person,
Mr Graham, his instrument was fixed up the 19th of
August 1727. Ashe had no convenient place where
he could make use of so long a telescope as Mr Moli-
neux’s, he contented himself with one of but little
more than half the length, namely of 12 feet and a half,
the other being 24 feet and a half long, judging from
the experience he had already had, that this radius
would be long enough to adjust the instrument to a
sufficient degree of exactness: and he had no reason
afterwards to change his opinion 3 for by all his trials
he was very well satisfied, that when it was carefully
rectified, its situation might be securely depended on
to half a second. As the place tvhere his instrument
was hung, in some measure determined its radius; so
did it also the length of the arc or limb, on which the
divisions were made, to adjust it: for the arc could
not conveniently be extended farther, than to reach
to about 6|: degrees on each side of the zenith. This
however was sufficient, as it gave him an opportunity
of making choice of several stars, very different both
in magnitude and situation •, there being more than two
hundred, inserted in the British Catalogue, that might
be observed with it. He needed not indeed to have
extended the limb so far, but that he was willing to
take in Capella, the only star of the first magnitude
that came so near his zenith.
His instrument being fixed, he immediately began
to observe such stars as he judged most proper to give
him any light into the cause of the motion already
mentioned. There was a sufficient variety of small
ones, and not less than twelve that he could observe
through all seasons of the year, as they were bright
enough to be seen in the day time, when nearest the
sun. He had not been long observing, before he
perceived that the notion they had before entertained,
that the stars were farthest north and south when the
sun was near the equinoxes, was only true of those
stars which are near the solstitial colure. And after
continuing his observations a few months, he discover¬
ed what he then apprehended to be a general law ob¬
served by all the stars, namely, that each of them be¬
came stationary, or was farthest north or south, when
it passed over his zenith at six of the clock, either in
the evening or morning. He perceived also that what¬
ever situation the stars were in, with respect to the car¬
dinal points of the ecliptic, the apparent motion of
31 ] ABE
every one of them tended the same way, when they Aberration,
passed his instrument about the same hour of the day
or ‘night; for they all moved southward when they
passed in the day, and northward when in the night j
so that each of them was farthest north when it came
in the evening about six of the clock, and farthest south
when it came about six in the morning.
Though he afterwards discovered that the maxima,
in most of these stars, do not happen exactly when they
pass at those hours ; yet, not being able at that time
to prove the contrary, and supposing that they did, he
endeavoured to find out what proportion the greatest
alterations of declination, in different Stars, bore to
each other ; it being very evident that they did not all
change their inclination equally. It has been before
noticed, that it appeared from Mr Molineux’s obser¬
vations, that y Draconis changed its declination above
twice as much as the before-mentioned small star that
was nearly opposite to it; but examining the matter
more nicely, he found that the greatest change in the
declination of these stars, was as the sine of the lati¬
tude of each star respectively. This led him to suspect
that there might be the like proportion between the
■maxima of other stars j but finding that the observa¬
tions of some of them would not perfectly correspond
with such an hypothesis, and not knowing whether the
small difference he met with might not be owing to
the uncertainty and error of the observations, he de¬
ferred the farther examination into the truth of this hy¬
pothesis, till he should be furnished with a series of ob¬
servations made in all parts of the year ; which would
enable him not only to determine what errors the ob¬
servations might be liable to, or how far they might
safely be depended on ; but also to judge, whether
there had been any sensible change in the parts of the
instrument itself.
When the year was completed, he began to exa¬
mine and compare his observations j and having satis¬
fied himself as to the general laws of the phenomena,
he then endeavoured to find out the cause of them.
He was already convinced that the apparent motion
of the stars was not owing to a nutation of the earth’s
axis. The next that occurred to him, was an altera¬
tion in the direction of the plumb-line, by which the
instrument was constantly adjusted 5 but this, upon
trial, provided insufficient. Then he considered what
refraction might do; but here also he met with no sa¬
tisfaction. At last, through an amazing sagacity, he
conjectured that all the phenomena hitherto mention¬
ed, proceeded from the progressive motion of light,
and the earth’s annual motion in her orbit : for he
perceived, that if light W'ere propagated in time, the
apparent place of a fixed object would not be the
same when the eye is at rest, as when it is moving in
any other direction but that of the line passing through
the object and the eye ; and that when the eye is mo¬
ving in different directions, the apparent place of the
object would be different. (Hutton's Math. Diet.).
Aberration, in Optics, the deviation or dispersion
of the rays of light, when reflected by a speculum,
or refracted by a lens, which prevents them from
meeting or uniting in the same point, called the geo¬
metrical focus, but are spread over a small space, and
produce a confusion of images. rIhere are two species
of aberration distinguished by their different causes ;
* Keel.
Mi4. lib.
«ap. 13.
A B G [32
the one arises from the figure of the lens or speculum,
the other from the unequal refrangibility of the rays
of light. This last species is sometimes called the
Newtonian, from the name of its discoverer. See Or-
Aberration of the Tlancts^ is equal to the geocen¬
tric motion of the planet, the space it appears to move
as seen from the earth, during the time that light em¬
ploys in passing from the planet to the earth. 1 hus,
in the sun, the aberration in longitude is constantly
20", that being the space moved by the sun, or,^ which
is the same thing, by the earth, in the time of 8' 7",
which is the time in which light passes from the sun to
the earth* In like manner, knowing the distance of
any planet from the earth, by proportion it will be, as
the distance of the sun is to the distance of the planet,
so is 8' 7" to the time of light passing from the planet
to the earth : then computing the planet’s geocentric
motion in this time, that will be the aberration of the
planet, whether it be in longitude, latitude, right as¬
cension, or declination. (^Hutton's ALath. lAict.'),
ABERYSTWITH, a market-town of Cardigan¬
shire, in Wales, seated on the Ridal, near its confluence
with the Istwith, where it falls into the sea. It is a
rich towrt, and has a great trade in lead, and a consi¬
derable fishery of whiting, cod, and herrings. It was
formerly surrounded with walls, and iortified with a
castle : but both are now in ruins. Its distance from
London is 203 miles W. N. W. W. Long. 4. 20. N.
Lat. 52. 17. Population 2264 in 1811.
ABESTA, or Avesta, the name of one of the sa¬
cred books of the Persian magi, which they ascribe to
their great founder Zoroaster. The Abesta is a com¬
mentary on two others of their religious books called
T^end and Pa^end; the three together including the
whole system of the Ignicolse or worshippers of fire.
ABETTOR, a law term implying one who en¬
courages another to the performance of some criminal
action, or who is art or part in the performance itself.
Treason rs the only crime in which abettors are ex¬
cluded by law, every individual concerned being con¬
sidered as a principal. It is the same with art-and-part
in the Scots law.
ABEX, a country of Higher Ethiopia, in Africa,
bordering on the Red sea, by which it is bounded on
the east. It has Nubia or Sennar on the north 5 Sen-
nar and Abyssinia on the west; and Abyssinia on the
south. Its principal towns are Suaquem and Arkeko.
It is subject to the Turks, and has the name of the
beglerbeglik of Habeleth. It is about five hundred
miles in length and one hundred in breadth j is a moun¬
tainous country, sandy, barren, and unhealthy, much
infested with wild beasts^ and the forests abound with
ebony trees.
ABEYANCE, in Laiu, the expectancy of an estate.
Thus it lands be leased to one person for life, with re¬
version to another for years, the remainder for years is
in abeyance till the death of the lessee.
ABGAR, or Abgarus, a name given to several of
the kings of Edessa in Syria. The most celebrated of
them was one who, it is said, was contemporary with
Jesus Christ j and who having a distemper in his feet,
and hearing of Jesus’s miraculous cures, requested him
i. by letter to come and cure him. Eusebius *, who be¬
lieved that this letter was genuine, and also an answer
1
A B I
our Saviour is said to have returned to it, has trans¬
lated them both from the Syriac, fund asserts that they
were taken out of the archives of the city of Edessa. ^
The first is as follows : “ Abgarus, prince of Edessa,
“ to Jesus the holy Saviour, who hath appeared in the
“ flesh in the confines of Jerusalem, greeting. 1 have
“ heard of thee, and of the cures thou hast wrought
“ without medicines or herbs. For it is reported thou
“ makest the blind to see, the lame to walk, lepers to
“ be clean, devils and unclean spirits to be expelled,
“ such as have been long diseased to be healed, and
“ the dead to he raised j all which when I heard con-
“ cerning thee, I concluded with myself, That either
“ thou wast a God come down from heaven, or the
“ San of God sent to do these things. I have there-
“ fore written to thee, beseeching thee to vouchsafe to
“ come unto me, and cure my disease. For I have
“ also heard that the Jews use thee ill, and lay snares
“ to destroy thee. I have here a little city, pleasantly
“ situated, and sufficient for us both. Abgarus.”
To this letter, Jesus, it is said, returned an answer by
Annanias, Abgarus’s courier; which was as follows :
“ Blessed art thou, O Abgarus ! who hast believed in
“ me whom thou hast not seen j for the Scriptures say
“ of me, They who have seen me have not believed in
“ me, that they who have not seen, may, by believing,
“ have life. But whereas thou writest to have me
“ come to thee, it is of necessity that I fulfil all things
“ here for which I am sent; and having finished them,
“ to return to him that sent me : but when 1 am re-
“ turned to him, I will then send one of my disciples
“ to thee, who shall cure thy malady, and give life to
“ thee and thine. Jesus.” After Jesus’s ascension,
Judas, who is also named Thomas, sent Thaddeus, one
of the seventy, to Abgarus 5 who preached the gospel
to him and his people, cured him of his disorder, and
wrought many other miracles : which was done says
Eusebius, A. D. 43.—Though the. above letters are
acknowledged to be spurious by the candid writers of
the church of Rome ; several Protestant authors, as
Dr Parker, Dr Cave, and Dr Grabe, have maintained
that they are genuine, and ought not to be rejected.
ARGILLLS, John, surnamed Prester John, was
son to a king of the Friscii; and, from the austerity of
his life, obtained the name of Prester, or Priest. Fie
attended Charlemagne in bis expedition to the Holy
Land ; but instead of returning with that monarch to
Europe, it is pretended that he gained mighty con¬
quests, and founded the empire of the Abyssines, call¬
ed, from his name, the empire of Prester John. He is
said to have written the history of Charlemagne’s jour¬
ney into the Holy Land, and his own into the Indies j
but they are more probably trifling romances, written
in the ages of ignorance.
ABIANS, anciently a people of Thrace, cr (ac¬
cording to some authors of Scythia. They had no
fixed habitations; they led a wandering life. Their
houses were waggons, which carried all their posses¬
sions. They lived on the flesh of their herds and
flocks, on milk and cheese, chiefly on that of mare’s
milk. They were unacquainted with commerce.
They only exchanged commodities with their neigh¬
bours. They possessed lands, but they did not culti¬
vate them. They assigned their agriculture to any
who would undertake it, reserving only to themselves
Aiij’fu
y
Abians.
A B I t 33 ] A B I
Abians a tribute ; xvliich they exacted, not with a view to live
|J in affluence, but merely to enjoy the necessaries of life,
fAbimclech. rj'[iey never took arms but to oblige those to make
r good a promise to them by whom it had been broken.
They paid tribute to none of the neighbouring states.
They deemed themselves exempt from such an impo¬
sition ; for they relied on their strength and courage,
and consequently thought themselves able to repel any
invasion. The Abians, we are told, were a people of
great integrity. This honourable eulogium is given
them by Homer. (Strabo).
ABIATHAR, high priest of the Jews, son to Ahi-
melech, who had borne the same office, and received
David into his house. This so enraged Saul, who ha¬
ted David, that he put Ahimelech to death, and 8l
priests ; Abiathar alone escaped the massacre. He af¬
terwards rvas high priest; and often gave King David
testimonies of his fidelity, particularly during Absa¬
lom’s conspiracy, at which time Abiathar followed
David, and bore away the ark. But after this, con¬
spiring with Adonijah, in order to raise him to the
throne of King David his father} this so exasperated
Solomon against him, that he divested him of the
priesthood, and banished him, A. M. 3021, before
Christ 1014.
ABIB, signifying an ear of corn, a name given by
the Jews to the first month of their ecclesiastical year,
afterwards called Nisan. It commenced at the vernal
equinox 5 and according to the course of the moon, by
which their months were regulated, answered to the
latter part of our March and beginning of April.
ABIDING by Writings, in Scots Law: When a
person founds upon a writing alleged to be false, he
may be obliged to declare judicially, whether he will
stand or abide by it as a true deed.
ABIES, the Fir-tree. See Pinus, Botany
Index.
ABIGEAT, an old law term, denoting the crime
of stealing cattle by droves or herds. This crime was
severely punished 5 the delinquent being often con¬
demned to the mines, banishment, and sometimes capi¬
tally.
ABIHU, brother to Nadab, and son to Aaron.
The two former had the happiness to ascend Mount
Sinai with their father, and there to behold the glory
of God: but afterward putting strange fire into their
censers, instead of the sacred fire commanded by God,
fire rushing upon them killed them. Though all the
people bewailed this terrible catastrophe, Moses for¬
bade Aaron and his two sons Eleazar and Ithamar to
join in the lamentation.
ABII Scythe, taken by Strabo to denote the Eu¬
ropean Sarmatae, bordering on the Thracians and Ba-
stanae : They were commended by Curtius for their
love of justice, and by Ammiesius for their contempt
of earthly things.
ABIMELECH, king of Gerar, a country of the
Philistines, was contemporary with Abraham. This pa¬
triarch and his family being there, his wife Sarah,
though 90 years of age, was not safe in it; for Abi-
melech carried her off, and was so enamoured of her,
that he resolved to marry her. Abraham did not de¬
clare himself Sarah’s husband ; but gave out she was
his sister. But the king being warned in a dream, that
«he was married to a prophet, and that he should die
Vol. I. Part I. +
if he did not restore her to Abraham, the king obeyed; Abimelcdt
at the same time reproving Abraham for his disinge- ||
nuity ; who thereupon, among other excuses, said sheAbiponian*.
was really his sister, being born of the same father, v *
though of a different mother. Abimelech afterwards
gave considerable presents to Abraham $ and a cove¬
nant, that of Beersheba, was entered into between them,
A. M. 2107. After the death of Abraham, there
being a famine in the neighbouring countries, Isaac his
son also withdrew into Gerar, which was then likewise
governed by a king called
Abimelech, probably the successor of the former.
Here Rebekah’s beauty forced her husband to employ
Abraham’s artifice. Abimelech discovering that they
were nearly related, chid Isaac for calling his wife his
sister \ and at the same time forbade all his subjects,
upon pain of death, to do the least injury to Isaac or
Rebekah. Isaac’s prosperity lost him the king’s
friendship, and he was desired to go from among them.
He obeyed ; but Abimelech afterwards entered into a
covenant with him, A. M. 22CO.
Abimelech, the natural son of Gideon, by his con¬
cubine. His violent acts and death are recorded in
Judges, chap. ix. A M. 2769.
ABINGDON, a market-town in Berkshire, situat¬
ed on a branch of the Thames, derives its name from
an ancient abbey. The streets, which are well paved,
terminate in a spacious area, in which the market is
held ; and in the centre of this area is the market-
house, which is supported on lofty pillars, with a large
hall of freestone above, in which the summer assizes for
the county are held; and other public business done,
the Lent assizes being held at Reading. It has two
churches; one dedicated to St Nicholas, and the other
to St Helena : the latter is adorned with a spire, and
both are said to have been erected by the abbots of
Abingdon. Here are also two hospitals, one for six,
and the other for thirteen poor men, and as many poor
women ; a free school ; and a charity school. The
town was incorporated by Queen Mary. It sends two
members to parliament, who are chosen by the inhabi¬
tants at large not receiving alms. Its great manufac¬
tures are sail-cloth, sacking, and especially malt, large
quantities of which are sent by water to London. It is
seven miles south of Oxford, 47 east of Gloucester, and
55 west of London. This town is supposed by Bishop
Gibson to be the place called, in the Saxon annals,
Cloveshoo. W. Long. 1. 12. N. Lat. 51, 42. Popula¬
tion 4801 in 1 811.
ABINTESTATE, in Civil Law, is applied to a
person who inherits the right of one who died intestate
or without making a will. See Intestate.
ABIPONIANS, a tribe of American Indians, who
formerly inhabited the district of Chaks in Paraguay ;
but the hostilities of the Spaniards have now obliged
them to remove southward into the territory lying be¬
tween Santa Fe and St Jago. The only account we
have of them is that published by M. Dobrizhoffer in
1785. This gentleman, who lived seven years in
their country, informs us that they are not numerous,
the whole nation not much exceeding 5000 ; for which
he assigns as a reason an unnatural custom among their
women of sometimes destroying their own children,
from motives of jealousy lest their husbands should
tak,e other mates during the long time they give suck,
E which
A B L [34
Abipouians which is not less than two years. They are naturally
white, hut, hy exposure to the air and smoke, become
of a brown colour. They are a strong and hardy race
of people ; which our author attributes to their marry-
im>- so late, an Abiponian seldom or never thinking of
marriage till 30 years of age. They are greatly cele¬
brated on account of their chastity and other virtues 5
though, according to our author, they have no know¬
ledge of a Deity. They make frequent incursions into
the territories of the Spaniards, mounted on the horses
which run wild in those parts. They have a kind of
order of chivalry for their warriors j and are so for¬
midable, that 100 of their enemies will fly before ten
of these horsemen. The hatred which these savages,
whose manners, though rude and uncultivated, are in
many respects pure and virtuous, bear to the Spaniards,
is invincible. “ These pretended Christians,” says our
author, “ who are the scum of the Spanish nation,
practise every kind of fraud and villany among these
poor barbarians ; and their corrupt and vicious morals
are so adapted to prejudice the Abiponians against the
Christian religion, that the Jesuit missionaries have,
by a severe law, prohibited any Spaniard from coming,
without a formal permission, into any of their colonies.”
-—From his account of the success of the Jesuits in con¬
verting them to Christianity, however, it does not
appear that they have been able to do more than bribe
them to a compliance with the ceremonies of the
Popish superstition j so that in general they are quite
ignorant and uncivilized ; a most striking instance ot
which is, that in counting they can go no further than
three ; and all the art of the Jesuits to teach them the
simplest use and expression of numbers has proved un¬
successful.
AB1RAM, a seditious Levite, who, in concert
with Korah and Dathan, rebelled against Moses and
Aaron, in order to share with them in the government
of the people 5 when Moses ordering them to come
with their censers before the altar of the Lord, the
earth suddenly opened under their feet, and swallowed
up them and their tents 5 and at the same instant fire
came from heaven, and consumed 250 of their follow¬
ers. Numb. chap. xvi.
ABLSHAI, son of Zeruiah, and brother to Joab,
was one of the celebrated warriors who flourished in
the reign of David : he killed with his own hand 300
men, with no other weapon but his lance ; and slew a
Philistine giant, the iron of whose spear weighed 300
shekels. 1 Sam. chap. xxvi. 2 Sam. chap, xxiii.
ABJURATION, in our ancient customs, implied
an oath, taken by a person guilty of felony, and who
had fled to a place of sanctuary, whereby he solemnly
engaged to leave the kingdom for ever.
Abjuration is now used to signify the renouncing,
disclaiming, and denying upon oath, the Pretender to
have any kind of right to the crown of these kingdoms.
j4bjubation of Heresy, the solemn recantation of
any doctrine as false and wicked.
ABLACTATION, or weaning a child from the
breast. See Weaning.
Ablactation,among the ancient gardeners,thesame
with what is now called Grafting hy approach, is a me¬
thod of engrafting, by which the scion of one tree being
tor some time united to the stock of another, is afterwards
cut off, and, as it were, weaned from the parent tree.
3
] A B L
ABLAI, a country of Great Tartary, the inhabi¬
tants of which are called Buchars or Buchares. See
Ablay. ^
ABLACQUEATION, an old term in Gardening,
signifies the operation of removing the earth, and bar¬
ing the roots of trees in winter, to expose them more
freely to the air, rain, snows, &c.
ABLANCOURT. See Perrot.
ABLATIVE, in Grammar, the sixth case of Latin
nouns. The Word is formed from auferre, “ to take
away.” Priscian also calls it the comparative case; as
serving among the Latins, for comparing, as well as
taking away.
The ABLATIVE is opposite to the DATIVE; the first
expressing the action of taking away, and the latter
that of giving.
In English, French, &c. there is no precise mark
whereby to distinguish the ablative from other cases ;
and we only use the term in analogy to the Latin.
Thus, in the two phrases, the magnitude of the city,
and he spoke much of the city; we say, that of the city
in the first is genitive, and in the latter ablative ; be¬
cause it would be so, if the two phrases were expressed
in Latin.
The question concerning the Greek ablative has
been the subject of a famous literary war between two
great grammarians, Frischlin and Crusius j the former
maintaining, and the latter opposing, the reality of it.
The dispute still subsists among their respective follow¬
ers. The chief reason alleged by the former is, that
the Roman writers often joined Greek words with the
Latin prepositions which govern ablative cases, as
well as with nouns of the same case. To which their
opponents answer, that the Latins anciently had no ab¬
lative themselves; but instead thereof, made use, like
the Greeks, of the dative case j till at length they
formed an ablative, governed by prepositions, which
were not put before the dative : that, at first, the two
cases had always the same termination, as they still
have in many instances: but that this was afterwards
changed in certain words. It is no wonder then, that
the Latins sometimes join prepositions which govern an
ablative case, or nouns in the ablative case, with Greek
datives, since they were originally the same ; and that
the Greek dative has the same effect as the Latin abla¬
tive.
Ablative Absolute, in Grammar, is a phrase de¬
tached or independent of the other parts of a sentence
or discourse. In the Latin language it is frequent, and
it has been adopted hy the moderns.
ABLAY, in Geography, a country of Great Tartary,
governed by a Cal muck chief, but subject to Russia,
to obtain its protection. It lies east of the river Irtisch,
and extends 500 leagues along the southern frontiers
of Siberia, from E. Long. 720 to 83°. N. Lat. from
5l0 t° 54°*
ABLE, or Abel, Thomas, chaplain to Queen
Catherine, consort to Henry VIII. distinguished him¬
self by his zeal in opposing the proceedings against
that unfortunate princess for a divorce. For this pur¬
pose he wrote a piece, entitled “ Tractatus de non dis-
solvendo Henrici et Catharince matrimonio, i. e. “ A
Treatise proving that the marriage of King Henry and
Queen Catharine ought not to be dissolved.” But the
title of the book, according to Bishop Tanner, was
Invicta,
Ablai
Able.
ABN [35] ABO
Able hivicta l entas. He took the degree of bachelor of
!1 arts at Oxford on the 4th of July 1513, and that of
A "en , master of arts on the 27th of July 1516. In 1534
he fell under a prosecution for being concerned in the
affair of Elizabeth Barton, called the Holy Maid of
Kent. This was an infamous impostor, suborned by
the monks to use strange gesticulations, exhibit ficti¬
tious miracles, and to feign the gift of prophecy ; and
so well did she act her part, that she drew some per¬
sons of respectability to her interest: but being detect¬
ed, she was condemned and executed, after discover¬
ing the names of her principal accomplices and instiga¬
tors. On her account Able was charged with mispri¬
sion of treason, by stat. 25 Hen. VIII. 5 and being also
one of those who denied the king’s supremacy over the
church, he was apprehended and imprisoned ; during
which time his confinement was so rigorous, that the
keeper of Newgate was committed to Marshalsea pri¬
son for suffering him to go out upon bail. He was af¬
terwards hanged, drawn, and quartered, at Smithfield
in 1540. Bouchier gives him the character of a very
learned man j and tells us, that he used to teach the
queen music and the learned languages.
ABLECTI, in Roman antiquity, a select body of
soldiers chosen from among those called Extraordi-
NARII.
ABLEGMINA, in Roman antiquity, those choice
parts of the entrails of victims which were offered in
sacrifice to the gods. They were sprinkled with flour,
and burnt upon the altar; the priests pouring some
wine on them.
ABLOE, in Geography, a town of Little Tartary,
which lies between the river Dnieper and the Black
sea. E. Long. 33. 15. N. Lat. 46. 20.
ABLUENTS, in Medicine, the same with diluters
or Diluents.
ABLUTION, in a general sense, signifies the wash¬
ing or purifying something with water.
Ablution, in a religious sense, a ceremony in use
among the ancients, and still practised in several parts
ol the world : it consisted in washing the body, which
was always done before sacrificing, or even entering their
houses. Ablutions appear to be as old as any ceremo¬
nies, and external worship itself. Moses enjoined them $
the heathens adopted them ; and Mahomet and his fol¬
lowers have continued them : thus they have got foot¬
ing among most nations, and make a considerable part
of most established religions.—The Egyptian priests
had their diurnal and nocturnal ablutions; the Grecians
their sprinklings ; the Romans their lustrations and la-
vations; the Jews their washing of hands and feet, be¬
side their baptisms.—The ancient Christians had their
ablutions before communion j which the Romish church
still retain before their mass, sometimes after. The Sy¬
rians, Copts, &c. have their solemn washings on Good
Iriday : the lurks their greater and lesser ablutions $
their Ghast and Wodou, their Aman, Taharat, &c.
ABNER, the son of Ner, father-in-law to Saul,
.and general of all his forces, served him on all oc¬
casions with fidelity and courage. After the death of
that prince, Abner set Ishbosheth, Saul’s son, on the
throne. A war breaking out between the tribe of Ju¬
dah, who had elected David king, and Israel, Abner
marched against that prince with the flower of his troops,
• but was defeated. Abner afterward, being disgusted,*
went over to David, and induced the chiefs of the ar- Abner
my and the elders of Israel to declare for him. He was ||
received by David with every mark of affection, which Aboccis*
gave offence to Joab, by whom he was insidiously out '—“"v*'—
to death, A. M. 2956. ' *
ABNOBA, now Abenow, in Geography, a lon<*
range of mountains in Germany, extending from the
une to the iSecker, and having different names ac¬
cording to the different countries through which they
stretch. About the river Maine they are called the
Gden or Otenwald j between Hesse and Franconia, the
Spessart; and about the duchy of Wirtember?, where
the Danube takes its rise, they receive the "name of
ABO, a maritime town of Finland, situated on the
promontory formed by the gulfs of Finland and Both¬
nia, 120 miles north-east from Stockholm, in E. Long.
22. 7. and N. Lat. 60. 28. It belonged formerly to
Sweden, but was transferred to Russia with the pro¬
vince of Finland in 1809. It is built on both sides of
the river Aurajocki, which have a communication by a
wooden bridge. The streets and lanes of Abo amount
to 1025 the number of houses to nco, which in 1780
contained above 2000 families. 101791 the number
of inhabitants was ii,jco.
A gymnasium was established at Abo by Gustav us
Adolphus in 1626, which was converted by Queen
Christina, in 1640, into an academy or university, in
which are now taught anatomy, natural history, che¬
mistry, and economics. The library founded by Queen
Christina consists of above 10,000 volumes, besides ma¬
nuscripts, ancient coins, medals, &c. The school of
anatomy is in considerable repute j and enjoys, it is
said, one very extraordinary privilege. By a particu¬
lar regulation, all persons who hold'lands or pensions
from the crown are bound to leave their bodies to be
dissected for the instruction of the students.
The trade of Abo is considerable. The exports
consist of iron, copper, pitch, tar, deals, &c. The im¬
ports are tobacco, coffee, sugar, wine, salt, grain, hemp
and spiceries. In Abo are manufactured silk ribbands*
fustian, sail-cloth, leather, tiles, watches and clocks
paper, sugar, and tobacco. The plantations of to¬
bacco in this neighbourhood produce not less than
152,000 cwt. annually. (Acerbi's Travels).
Abo-hus, or Abo-slot, a very ancient castle in
Finland, situated at the mouth ol the river Aura, was
the residence of Duke John, and the prison of King
Eric in the 16th century. It is at present employed
as a magazine for corn and gunpowder, and as a prison
for state offenders.
ABOARD, the inside of a ship. Hence any person
who enters a ship is said to go aboard: but when an
enemy enters in the time of battle, he is said to board;
a phrase which always implies hostility.—To fall a-
board of, is to strike or encounter another ship when one
or both are in motion, or to be driven upon a ship by
the force of the wind or current.—Aboard-main-tack,
the order to draw the main-tack, i. e. the lower-corner
of the main-sail, down to the CHESS-TREE.
ABOASAR, in Geography, a village in Lower
Egypt, supposed to be the ancient Busiris.
ABOCCIS, in Ancient Geography, the Abuncis of
Ptolemy, a town of Ethiopia, situated on the western
side of the Nile near the great cataract.
E 2
ABOCRO,
Abocro
1!
Abomasus.
ABO [ 36
ABOCRO, or Aborrel, in Geography, at own near
the river Ankobar or Cobre, on the African Gold
coast. It gives name to a republican province.
ABOLA, in Geography, a division of the Agow, in
Abyssinia, is a narrow valley, through which runs a
river of the same name, whose waters receive many
tributary streams from the lofty, rugged, and woody
mountains that form the valley. In none of the rivers
are any fish found, which Bruce ascribes to their being
dried up in the summer, and great rapidity in winter.
ABOLITION, implies the act of annulling, de¬
stroying, making void, or reducing to nothing. In
our law, it signifies the repealing any law or statute.
The leave given by a prince or judge to a criminal ac¬
cuser to desist from farther prosecution of the accused,
is in the most appropriate sense denominated abolition.
Abolition is particularly used among civilians, for
remitting the punishment of a crime. It is, in this
sense, a kind of amnesty j the punishment, not the in¬
famy, is taken off.
Abolition, in the Roman law, is the annulling a
prosecution, or legal accusation : and in this sense, it
is different from amnesty ; for, in the former, the ac¬
cusation might be renewed by the same prosecutor, but
in the latter, it was extinguished for ever. Within 30
days after a public abolition, the same accuser, with the
prince’s license, was allowed to renew the charge }
after a private abolition, another accuser might renew
it, but the same could not. Abolition was also used for
expunging a person’s name from the public list of the
accused, hung up in the treasury. It was either pub¬
lic, as that under Augustus, when all the names which
had long hung up, were expunged at once*, or pri¬
vate, when it wras done at the motion of one of the
parties. Abolition of debts, according to the laws of
the Theodosian code, was sometimes granted to those
who were indebted to the fiscus. A medal of the em¬
peror Adrian represents that prince with a sceptre in
his left hand, and a lighted torch in his right, with
which he sets fire to several papers in presence of the
people, who testify their joy and gratitude by lifting
up their hands towards heaven. The legend on the
medal is, Beliqua vetera H. s. nummis abolita.
ABOLLA, in antiquity, a warm kind of garment,
lined or doubled, worn by the Greeks and Romans,
chiefly out of the city, in following the camp.—Critics
and antiquaries are greatly divided as to the form,
use, kinds, &c. of this garment. Papias makes it a
species of the toga, or gown •, but Nonnius, and most
others, suppose it to be a species of the pallium, or
cloak. The abolla seems rather to have stood opposed
to the toga, which was a garment of peace, as the
abolla was of war j at least Varro and Martial place
them in this opposite light. There seem to have been
different kinds of abolla;, appropriated to different
characters and occasions. Even kings appear to have
used the abolla: Caligula was offended with King
Ptolemy for appearing at the shows in a purple abolla,
the splendour of which drew the eyes of the spectators
from the emperor to himself.
ABOMASUS, Abomasum, or Abomasius, names
of the fourth stomach of ruminating animals. It is in
the abomasus of calves and lambs that the runnet or
earning is formed wherewith milk is curdled. See
Anatomy, Part II.
] ABO
ABOMINATION, a term used in Scripture with Abomina-
jegard to the Hebrews, who, being shepherds, are said ti°a
to have been an abomination to the Egyptians, because Abor/'ines>
they sacrificed the sacred animals of that people, as , —^i
oxen, goats, sheep, &c. which the Egyptians esteemed
as abominations, or things unlawful. The term is also
applied in the sacred writings to idolatry and idols, be¬
cause the worship of idols is in itself an abominable
thing, and at the same time ceremonies observed by-
idolaters were always attended with licentiousness and
other odious and abominable actions. T he abomination
of desolation, foretold by the prophet Daniel, is sup¬
posed to imply the statue of Jupiter Olympius, which
Antiochus Epiphanes caused to be placed in the temple
of Jerusalem. And the abomination of desolation, men¬
tioned by the Evangelists, signifies the ensigns of the
Romans, during the last siege of Jerusalem by Titus, on
which the figures of their gods and emperors were em¬
broidered, and placed upon the temple after it was taken.
ABON, Abona, or A BONIS, in Ancient Geography,
a town and river of Albion. The town, according to
Camden, is Abingdon j and the river, Abhon or Avon.
But by Antonine’s Itinerary, the distance is nine miles
from the Venta Silurum, or Caer-went} others, there¬
fore, take the town to be Porshut, at the mouth of the
river Avon, near Bristol. Abhon or Avon, in the
Celtic language, denotes a river.
ABORAS, in Ancient Geography, by Xenophon
called Araxes, a river of Mesopotamia, which flows
into the Euphrates at Circesium. In the negociation
between Dioclesian and Narses, near the end of the
third century, it was fixed as the boundary between the
Roman and Persian empires.
ABORIGINES, in history, (Dionysius of Halicar¬
nassus, Livy, Virgil) ; originally a proper name, given
to a certain people in Italy, who inhabited the an¬
cient Latium, or country now called Campagna di Ro¬
ma. In this sense the Aborigines are distinguished
from the Janigense, who, according to the false Be-
rosus, inhabited the country before them ; from the
Siculi, whom they expelled ; from the Grecians,
from whom they descended ; from the Latins, whose
name they assumed after their union with AEneas and
the Trojans j lastly, from the Ausonii, Volsci, Oeno-
trii, &c. neighbouring nations in other parts of the
country. Whence this people came by the appellation
is much disputed. St Jerome says, they were so call¬
ed, as being absque origine, the primitive planters of
the country after the flood : Dionysius of Halicarnassus
accounts for the name, as denoting them the founders of
the race of inhabitants of that country : others think ,
them so called as being originally Arcadians, who
claimed to be earth-born, and not descended from any
people. Aurelius Victor suggests another opinion, viz.
that they were called Aborigines, q. d. Aberrigines,
from ab, “ from,” and errare, “ to wander 5” as having
been before a wandering people. Pausanias rather
thinks they were thus called acw* «§**■<, “ from moun¬
tains j which opinion seems confirmed by Virgil, who,
speaking of Saturn, the legislator of this people, says,
Is genus indocile ac dispersum montibus altis
Composuit, legesque dedit. 
The Aborigines were either the original inhabitants
of the country, settled there by Janus, as some ima¬
gine >
%
ABO [ 37 ] A B R
Aborigines g'oe 5 or Saturn, or Cham, or others j not long
Abortion, after the dispersion, or even, as some think, before it:
—* Or, they were a colony sent from some other nation ;
who expelling the Siculi, the ancient inhabitants, set¬
tled in their place. About this mother nation there
is great dispute. Some maintain it to be the Arca¬
dians, parties of whom were brought into Italy at dif¬
ferent times •, the first under the conduct of Oenotrius,
son of Lycaon, 450 years before the Trojan war; a
second from Thessaly 5 a third under Evander, 6o
years before the Trojan war j besides another under
Hercules ; and another of Lacedaemonians, who fled
from the severe discipline of Lycurgus: all these uni¬
ting, are said to have formed the nation or kingdom
of the Aborigines. Others will have them of barba¬
rian rather than Grecian origin, and to have come
from Scythia j others from Gaul. Lastly, Others will
have them to be Canaanites, expelled by Joshua.
The term though so famous in antiqui*
ty, is used in modern geography only occasionally as
an appellative. It is given to the primitive inhabi¬
tants of a country, in contradistinction to colonies, or
new races of people.
ABORTION, in Midwifery, the premature exclu¬
sion of a foetus. See Midwifery.
The practice of procuring abortions was prohibited
fiy the ancient Greek legislators Solon and Lycurgus.
Whether qr not it was permitted among the Romans,
has been much disputed. It is certain the practice,
which was by them called visceribus vim inferre, was
frequent enough 3 but whether there was any penalty
on it before the emperors Severns and Antonine, is
the question. Nodt maintains the negative; and fur¬
ther, that those princes only made it criminal in one
particular case, viz. of a married woman’s practising
it out of resentment against her husband, in order to
defraud him of the comfort of children: this was or¬
dered to be punished by a temporary exile. The foun¬
dation on which the practice is said to have been al¬
lowed, was, that the foetus, while in utero, was repu¬
ted as a part of the mother, ranked as one of her own
viscera, over which she had the same power as over the
rest: besides, that it was not reputed as a man, homo;
nor to be alive, otherwise than as a vegetable : conse¬
quently, that the crime amounted to little more than
that of plucking unripe fruit from the trees. Seneca
represents it as a peculiar glory of Helvia, that she had
never, like other women, whose chief study is their
beauty and shape, destroyed the foetus in her womb.
The primitive fathers, Athenagoras, Tertullian, Mi-
nutius Felix, Augustin, &c. declaimed loudly against
the practice as virtual murder. Several councils have
condemned it. Yet we are told that the modern Ro¬
mish ecclesiastical laws allow of dispensations for it.
Egane mentions the rates at which a dispensationTor
it may be had.
The practice of artificial abortion is chiefly in the
hands of women and nurses, rarely in that of physi¬
cians ; who, in some countries, are not admitted to the
profession without abjuring it. Hippocrates, in the
oath he would have enjoined on all physicians, includes
their not giving the pessns abortivus, though elsewhere
he gives the formal process whereby he himself pro¬
cured in a young woman a miscarriage. It may, how¬
ever,, be observed, that often all the powers of art
prove ineffectual, and no less often do the attempts AWtioa
prove the means of punishment by their fatal conse- ||
quences. See Abortion, Supplement. Abrabaad.
Abortion, among gardeners, signifies such fruits f
as are produced too early, and never arrive at matu¬
rity.
ABORTIVE, is, in general, applied to whatever
comes before its legitimate time, or to any design which
miscarries.
Abortive Corn, a distemper of corn mentioned by
M. Til let, and suspected to be occasioned by insects.
It appears long before harvest, and may be known by
a deformity of the stalk, the leaves, the ear, and even
the grain.
Abortive Vellum, is made of the skin of an abortive
calf.
ABOTRITES, or Abodrites, in History, the
name of a people bordering on Bulgaria, in that part s
of Dacia contiguous to the Danube. The country of
the Abodrites, now called Mecklenburg, was a part
of the ancient Vandalia.
ABOUKIR, a small town of Egypt, situated in
the desert between Alexandria and Rosetta. It is the
ancient Canopus, and is situated, according to Mr Sa-
vary, six leagues from Pharos. Pliny says, from the
testimonies of antiquity, that it was formerly an island :
and its local appearance makes this credible. The town
is built upon a rock, which forms a handsome road for
shipping, and was out of the reach of inundations.
In the bay of Aboukir, a signal victory was obtained
in 1798 by the English fleet over the French fleet.
Tbs town was taken from the Turks, after a vigorous
defence, by the French in 1799, and retaken by the
English in 1 801.
ABOULIEDA, a celebrated Arabian writer. See
Supplement.
ABOUT, the situation of a ship immediately after
she has tacked, or changed her course by going about
and standing on the other tack,—About ship ! the or¬
der to the ship’s crew for tacking.
ABOUT IGF, a town of Upper Egypt, in Africa,
near the Nile, where they made the best opium in all
the Levant. It was formerly a large, but now is a
mean place. N. Lat. 26. 50.
ABRA, a silver coin struck in Poland, and worth
about one shilling sterling. It is current in several
parts of Germany, at Constantinople, Astracan, Smyrna,
and Grand Cairo.
ABRABANEL, Abarbanel, or Avravanel,
Isaac, a celebrated rabbi, descended from King David,
and born at Lisbon A. D. 1437. He became coun¬
sellor to Alphonso V. king of Portugal, and afterwards
to Ferdinand the Catholic ; but in 1492 was obliged
to leave Spain with the other Jews. In short, after re¬
siding at Naples, Corfu, and several other cities, he
died at Venice in 1508, aged 71. Abrabanel passed
for one of the most learned of the rabbis ; and the Jews
gave him the names of the Sage, the Prince, and the
Great Politician. We have a commentary of his on
all the Old Testament, which is pretty scarce : he there
principally adheres to the literal sense; and his style is
clear, but a little ditfuse. His other works are, A
Treatise on the Creation of the World; in which he re¬
futes Aristotle, who imagined that the world was
eternal; A Treatise on the Explication, of the. Prophe¬
cies.
abraca
abrac
abra
abr
ab
a
ABR [38
Abrabanel cies relating to t!ie Messiah, against the Christians : A
n book concerning Articles of Faith *, and some others
Abraham. iess sought after. Though Abrabanel discovers his im-
  placable aversion to Christianity in all his writings, yet
he treated Christians with politeness and good manners
in the common affairs of life.
abracadabra, a magical word, recommended
hv Serenus Samonicus as an antidote against agues and
several other diseases. It was to be written upon a
piece of paper as many times as the word contains let¬
ters, omitting the last letter of the former every time,
as in the margin t, and repeated in the same order ;
abracadabra and suspended about the neck by a linen thread,
abracadabr Abracadabra was the name of a god worshipped by the
ebracadab Syrians } so wearing his name was a sort of invocation
abracada 0f his aid *, a practice which, though not more useful,
abiacad was less irrational, than is the equally heathenish
practice among those who call themselves Christians, of
wearing various things, in expectation of their upda¬
ting by a sympathy, whose parents were Ignorance and
Superstition.
ABRAHAM, the father and stock whence the
faithful sprung, was the son of Terah. He was de¬
scended from Noah by Shem, from whom he was nine
degrees removed. Some fix his birth in the 130th yeai
of Terah’s age, but others place it in his father’s. 70th
year. It is highly probable he was born in the city of
Ur, in Chaldea, which he and his father left when they
went to Canaan, where they remained till the death of
Terah ; after which, Abraham resumed his first design of
going to Palestine. The Scriptures mention the seve¬
ral places he stopped at in Canaan } his journey into
Egypt, where his wife was carried off from him; his
going into Gerar, where Sarah was again taken from
him, but restored, as before ; the victory he obtained
over the four kings who had plundered Sodom ; his
compliance with his wife, who insisted that lie should
make use of their maid Hagar in order to raise up
children ; the covenant God made with him, sealed
with the ceremony of circumcision 5 his obedience to
the command of God, who ordered him to offer up
his only son as a sacrifice, and how this bloody act was
prevented •, his marriage with Keturah j his death at
the age of 175 years > and his interment in the cave
of Machpelah, near the body of Sarah his first wife.
It would be of little use to dwell long upon these par¬
ticulars, since they are so well known. But tradition
has supplied numberless others, the mention of one or
two ot winch may not be unacceptable.
Many extraordinary particulars have been told re¬
lating to his conversion from idolatry. It is a pretty
general opinion, that he sucked in the poison with his
milk } that his father made statues, and taught that
* Suidas in they were to be worshipped as gods*. Some Jewish
See authors relate!, that Abraham followed the same trade
Jos. xxir. 2. Terah for a considerable time. Maimonides J
f Apicd Ge- g tliat |ie was up in the religion of the Sa-
cfrora. m bseans, who acknowledged no deity hut the stars-, that
* More Ne- his reflections on the nature of the planets, his admira-
<voeh. c. 29. tion of their motions, beauty and order, made him
conclude there must be a being superior to the ma¬
il Heideg- chine of the universe, a being who created and govern-
ger. Hist. . however, according to an old tradition, he did
Patriarch not r’enounce Paganism till the 50th year of his age.
p° 35.U1‘ It is related jj, that his father, being gone a journey,
Tradit.
] ABR
left him to sell the statues in his absence ; and that a Abraham
man, who pretended to be a purchaser, asked him how
old he was : Abraham answered, Fifty.”—“ Wretch
that thou art (said the other), for adoring at such au
age a being which is but a day old !” These words
greatly confounded Abraham. Some time afterwards,
a woman brought him some flour, that he might give
it as au offering to the idols ) but Abraham, instead
of doing so, took up a hatchet and broke them all to
pieces, excepting the largest, into the hand ol which
he put the weapon. Terah, at his return, asked
whence came all this havock ? Abraham made an¬
swer, that the statues had had a great contest which
should eat first of the oblation ; “ Upon which (said
he), the god you see there, being the stoutest, hewed
the others to pieces with that hatchet.” Terah told
him this was bantering j lor those idols had not the
sense to act in this manner. Abraham retorted these
words upon his father against the worshipping of such
gods. Terah, stung with this raillery, delivered up
his son to the cognizance of Nimrod, the sovereign of
the country 5 who exhorted Abraham to worship the
fire ; and, upon his refusal, commanded him to he
thrown into the midst of the flames : “ Now let your
God (said he) come and deliver you.” But (adds the
tradition) Abraham escaped from the flames unhurt.—
This tradition is not of modern date, since it is told by
St Jerome § -, who seems to credit it in general, but,
disbelieves that part of it which makes Terah so cruel
as to be the informer against his own son. Perhaps
the ambiguity of the word Ur * might have given rise p10per
to the fiction altogether. Such as lay stress on the lol-name of a
lowing words which God says to Abraham (Gen. xv. city, and it
7.), I am the Lord that brought thee out of Ur of the
Chaldees, imagine that he saved him from a great per- Lat. version
sedition, since he employed the very same words in theEsdras ix.
beginning of the decalogue to denote the deliverance has it thus:
from F.crvut. " dui ehgisti
Abraham is said to have been well skilled in many chaideo_
sciences, and to have wrote several books. Josephus f rMWl.
tells us that he taught the Egyptians arithmetic and t Antiq.
geometry, and according to Eupolemus and Artapan,1^ ^ caP* 7-
he instructed the Phoenicians, as well as the Egyp¬
tians, in astronomy. A work which treats of the crea¬
tion has been long ascribed to him : it is mentioned in
the Talmud I, and the rabbis Chanina and Hoschia l Heidegger
used to read it on the eve before the Sabbath. In the Hist. Patri-
first ages of Christianity, according to St Epiphanius tom.
a heretical sect, called Sethinians, dispersed a piece
which had the title of Abraham's Revelation. Origen uwr. p.
mentions also a treatise supposed to be wrote by this 286.
patriarch. All the several works which Abraham
composed in the plains of Mamre, are said to he con¬
tained in the library of the monastery of the Holy
Cross on Mount Amaria in Ethiopia §. The hook on § Kir diem's
the creation was printed at Paris 1552, and translated Yjbturies
into Latin by Postel : Rittangel, a converted Jew, andp l^2m
professor at Konigsberg, gave also a Latin translation
of it, with remarks, in 1642.
Abraham Ben Chaila, a Spanish rabbi, in the
13th century, who professed astrology, and assumed the
character of a prophet. He pretended to predict the
coming of the Messiah, which was to happen in the
year 1338 ; but fortunately he died in 1303, fifty-five
years before the time when the prediction was to be
] fulfilled.
A B R [ 39 ] A B II
He wrote a book, De Nativilatio/is, which
|| was printed at Rome in 1545.
Abraxas. ABRAHAM Usq/JE, a Portuguese Jew, who, in con-
   ' junction with Tobias Athias, translated the Hebrew
Bible into Spanish. It was printed at Ferrara, in
1553, and reprinted in Holland in 1630. This Bible,
especially the first edition, which is most valuable, is
marked with stars at certain words, which are design¬
ed to show that these words are difficult to be under¬
stood in the Hebrew, and that they may be used in a
different sense.
Abraham, Nicholas, a learned Jesuit, born in
the diocese of Toni, in Lorrain, in 1489. He obtain¬
ed the rank of divinity professor in the university of
Pont-a-Mouson, which he enjoyed 17 years, and died
September 7. 1655. He wrote Notes on Virgil and
on Nonnius 5 A Commentary on some of Cicero’s O-
rations, in two vols. folio j an excellent collection of
theological pieces in folio, entitled Pharus Veteris Tes-
tamenti; and a Hebrew Grammar in verse.
ABRAHAMITES, an order of monks extermina¬
ted for idolatry by Theophilus in the ninth century.
Also the name of another sect of heretics who had
adopted the errors of Paulus. See Paulicians.
ABRANTES, a town of Portugal, in Estremadu-
ra, seated on an eminence, in the midst of gardens and
olive trees, near the river Tajo, belongs to a marquis
of the same name. It contains 35,000 inhabitants,
four convents, an alms-house, and an hospital. W.
LonP> 7- 55- N- Lat- 39* 2I*
ABRASAX, or Abraxas, the supreme god of the
Basilidian heretics. It is a mystical or cabbalistic
word, composed of the Greek letters «, C, £, at,, %, cc, ?,
which together, according to the Grecian mode of nu¬
meration, make up the number 365. For Basilides
taught, that there were 365 heavens between the earth
and the empyrean ; each of which heavens had its an¬
gel or intelligence, which created it; each of which
angels likewise was created by the angel next above
it; thus ascending by a scale to the Supreme Being, or
first Creator. The Basilidians used the word Abraxas
by way of charm or amulet.
ABRASION is sometimes used among medical
writers for the effect of sharp corrosive medicines or
humours in wearing away the natural mucus which co¬
vers the membranes, and particularly those of the sto¬
mach and intestines, die word is composed of the
Latin ah and rado, to shave or scrape off'.
A BRAY ANNUS, in Ancient Geography, the name
of a promontory and river of Galloway in Scotland, so
called from the Celtic term Aber, signifying either the
mouth of a river or the confluence of two rivers, and
Avon, a river.
ABRAUM, in Natural History, a name given by
some writers to a species of red clay, used in England
by the cabinetmakers, &c. to give a red colour to new
mahogany wood. We have it from the isle of Wight;
but it is also found in Germany and Italy.
ABRAXAS, an antique stone with the word abraxas
engraven on it. They are of various sizes, and most of
them as old as the third century. They are frequent
in the cabinets of the curious ; and a collection of them,
as complete as possible, has been desired by several.
Lhere is a fine one in the abbey of St Genevive, which
has occasioned much speculation. Most of them seem
to have come from Egypt : whence they are of seme Abraxas
use for explaining the antiquities of that country. H
Sometimes they have no other inscription besides the Abiidge-
word : but others have the names of saints, angels, or ,
Jehovah himself annexed ; though most usnally the
name of the Basilidian god. Sometimes there is a re¬
presentation of Isis sitting on a lotus, or Apis sur¬
rounded with stars $ sometimes monstrous compositions
of animals, obscene images, Phalli and Ithyphalli. The
graving is rarely good, but the word on the reverse is
sometimes said to be in a more modern style than the
other. i he characters are usually Greek, Hebrew,
Coptic, or Hetrurian, and sometimes of a mongrel
kind, invented, as it would seem, to render their mean¬
ing the more inscrutable. It is disputed whether the
V eronica of Montreuil, or the granite obelisk mention¬
ed by Gori, be Abruxascs.
ABREAST (a sea term), side by side, or opposite
to; a situation in which twro or more ships lie, with
their sides parallel to each other, and their heads equal¬
ly advanced. This term more particularly regards the
line of battle at sea, where on the different occasions
of attack, retreat, or pursuit, the several squadrons or
divisions of a fleet are obliged to vary their dispositions,
and yet maintain a proper regularity by sailing in right
or curved lines. When the line is formed abreast, the
whole squadron advances uniformly, the ships being
equally distant from and parallel to each other, so that
the length of each ship forms a right angle with the
extent of the squadron or line abreast. The commander
in chief is always stationed in the centre, and the se¬
cond and third in command in the centres of their re¬
spective squadrons—Abreast, within the ship, implies
on a line with the beam, or by the side of any object
aboard ; as, the frigate sprung a leak abreast of the
mam hatchway, i. e. on the same line with the main
hatchway, crossing the ship’s length at right angles, in
opposition to AFORE or abaft the hatchway.
ABRETENE, or Abrettine, in Ancient Geo- K
graphy, a district of Mysia, in Asia. Hence the epithet
Abrettenus given to Jupiter (Strabo) ; whose priest
was Cleon, formerly at the head of a gang of robbers,
and who received many and great favours at the hand
of Antony, but afterwards went over to Augustus.
The people were called Abretteni; inhabiting the
country between Ancyra of Phrygia and the river
Rhyndacus.
ABRIDGEMENT, in Literature, a term signifying
the reduction of a book into a smaller compass.
The art of conveying much sentiment in few words,
is the happiest talent an author can be possessed of.
This talent is peculiarly necessary in the present state
of literature ; for many writers have acquired the dex¬
terity of spreading a few trivial thoughts over several
hundred pages. When an author hits upon a thought
that pleases him, he is apt to dwell upon it, to view it
in difierent lights, to force it in improperly, or upon
the slightest relations. Though this may be pleasant
to the writer, it tires and vexes the reader. There is
another great source of diffusion in composition. It is
a capital object with an author, whatever be the sub¬
ject, to give vent to all his best thoughts. When he
finds a proper place for any of them, he is peculiarly
happy. But rather than sacrifice a thought he is fond
of, he forces it in by way of digression, or superfluous
illustration..
A B R ^ t 40 1 A B R
Abridge- illustration. If none of these expedients answer his
meat. purpose, he has recourse to the margin, a very conve-
nient apartment for all manner of pedantry and imper¬
tinence. There is not an author, however correct,
but is more or less faulty in this respect. An abridger,
however, is not subject to these temptations. I he
thoughts are not his own ; he views them in a cooler
and less affectionate manner; he discovers an impro¬
priety in some, a vanity in others, and a want of utili¬
ty in many. His business, therefore, is to retrench su¬
perfluities, digressions, quotations, pedantry, &c. a.nd
to lay before the public only what is really useful*
This is by no means an easy employment: To abridge
some books, requires talents equal, if not superior, to
those of the author. The facts, manner, spirit, and
reasoning must be preserved 5 nothing essential, either
in argument or illustration, ought to be omitted. T- he
difficulty of the task is the principal reason why we
have so few good abridgments : Wynne’s abridgement
of Locke’s Essay on the Human Understanding, is per¬
haps the only unexceptionable one in our language.
These observations relate solely to such abridgements
as are designed for the public. But,
When a person wants to set down the substance of
any book, a shorter and less laborious method may be
followed. It would be foreign to our plan to give ex¬
amples of abridgements for the public: But as it may
be useful, especially to young people, to know how to
abridge books for their own use, after giving a few di¬
rections, we shall exhibit an example or two, to show
with what ease it may be done.
Read the book carefully; endeavour to learn the
principal view of the author ; attend to the arguments
employed : When you have done so, you will general¬
ly find, that what the author uses as new or additional
arguments, are in reality only collateral ones, or ex¬
tensions of the principal argument. Take a piece of
paper or a common-place book, put down what the
. author wants to prove, subjoin the argument or argu¬
ments, and you have the substance of the book in a few
lines. For example.
In the Essay on Miracles, Mr Hume’s design is to
prove, That miracles which have not been the imme¬
diate objects of our senses, cannot reasonably be be¬
lieved upon the testimony of others.
Now, this argument (for there happens to be but
one) is,
“ That experience, which in some things is variable,
“ in others uniform, is our only guide in reasoning
“ concerning matters of fact. A variable experience
“ gives rise to probability only j an uniform experi-
** ence amounts to a proof. Our belief of any fact
“ from the testimony of eye witnesses is derived from
“ no other principle than our experience in the vera*
■“ city of human testimony. If the fact attested be
“ miraculous, here arises a contest of two opposite
“ experiences, or proof against proof. Now, a mi-
“ racle is a violation of the laws of nature 5 and as a
“ firm and unalterable experience has established these
« laws, the proof against a miracle, from the very na-
“ ture of the fact, is as complete as any argument
“ from experience can possibly be imagined ; and if
“ so, it is an undeniable consequence, that it cannot be
c«‘ surmounted by any proof whatever derived from hu-
e£< man testimony.” r
In Dr Campbell’s Dissertation on Miracles, the atl- Abridge-
thor’s principal aim is to show the fallacy of Mr Hume’s nient.
argument 5 which he has done most successfully hy an- l-—-y-—"■
other single argument, as follows :
“ The evidence arising from human testimony is not
“ soldi/ derived from experience : on the contrary, te-
“ stimony hath a natural influence on belief antecedent
“ to experience. The early and unlimited assent given
“ to testimony by children gradually contracts as they
“ advance in life : it is, therefore, more consonant to
“ truth to say, that our diffidence in testimony is the
“ result of experience, than that our faith in it has this
“ foundation. Besides, the uniformity of experience,
“ in favour of any fact, is not a proof against its be-
“ ing reversed in a particular instance. The evidence
“ arising from the single testimony of a man of known
“ veracity will go farther to establish a belief in its be-
“ ing actually reversed: If his testimony be confirmed
“ by a few others of the same character, we cannot
“ withhold our assent to the truth of it. Now, though
“ the operations of nature are governed by uniform
“ laws, and though we have not the testimony of our
“ senses in favour of any violation of them 5 still, if in
“ particular instances we have the testimony ol thou-
“ saW.? of our fellow-creatures, and those too men of
“ strict integrity, swayed by no motives of ambition or
“ interest, and governed by the principles of common
“ sense. That they were actually eye witnesses of these
“ violations, the constitution of our nature obliges us to
“ believe them.”
These two examples contain the substance of about
400 pages*,—Making private abridgements of this kind
has many advantages : It engages us to read with ac¬
curacy and attention 5 it fixes the subject in our minds j
and, if we should happen to forget, instead of reading
the books again, by glancing a few lines, we are not
only in pqssession of the chief arguments, but recal in a
good measure the author’s method and manner.
Abridging is peculiarly useful in taking the sub¬
stance of what is delivered by professors, &c. It is
impossible, even with the assistance of short hand, to
take down* verbatim, what is said by a public speaker.
Besides, although it were practicable, such a talent
would be of little use. Every public speaker has cir¬
cumlocutions, redundancies, lumber which deserve not
to be copied. All that is really useful may be com¬
prehended in a short compass. If the plan of the dis¬
course, and arguments employed in support of the dif¬
ferent branches, be taken down, you have the whole.
These you may afterwards extend in the form of a dis¬
course dressed in your own language. This would not
only he a more rational employment, but would like¬
wise be an excellent method of improving young men
in composition ; an object too little attended to in all
our universities.
“ The mode of reducing, says the author of the Cu¬
riosities of Literature, what the ancients had writ¬
ten in bulky volumes, practised in preceding centu¬
ries, came into general use about the fifth. As the
number of students and readers' diminished, authors
neglected literature, and were disgusted with com¬
position 5 for to write is seldom done, but when the
writer entertains the hope of finding readers. Instead
of original authors, there suddenly arose numbers of
abridgers. These men, amidst the prevailing disgust
ABB. [41
Abridge- for literature, imagined they should gratify the public
ment by introducing a mode of reading works in a few hours,
U which otherwise could not be done in many months 5
tioif1' an<^’ observing that the bulky volumes of the ancients
—y mi lay buried in dust, without any one condescending to
examine them, the disagreeable necessity inspired them
with an invention that might bring those works and
themselves into public notice, by the care they took of
renovating them. This they imagined to elfect by form¬
ing abridgements of these ponderous volumes.
All these Abridgers, however, did not follow the
same mode. Some contented themselves with making
a mere abridgement of their authors, by employing their
own expressions, or by inconsiderable alterations. Others
composed those abridgements in drawing them from va¬
rious authors, but from whose works they only took what
appeared to them most worthy of observation, and dres¬
sed them in their own style. Others, again, having be¬
fore them several authors who wrote on the same sub¬
ject, took passages from each, united them, and thus
formed a new work. They executed their design by
digesting in common places, and under various titles,
the most valuable parts they could collect, from the
best authors they read. To these last ingenious scholars,
we owe the rescue of many valuable fragments of an¬
tiquity. They happily preserved the best maxims, the
characters of persons, descriptions, and any other sub¬
jects which they found interesting in their studies.
There have been learned men who have censured
these Abridgers, as the cause of our having lost so many
excellent entire works of the ancients ; for posterity be¬
coming less studious, was satisfied with these extracts,
and neglected to preserve the originals, whose volumi¬
nous size was less attractive. Others on the contrary
say, that tlrese Abridgers have not been so prejudicial
to literature, as some have imagined 5 and that had it
not been for their care, which snatched many a perish¬
able fragment from that shipwreck of letters, which the
barbarians occasioned, we should perhaps have had no
works of the ancients remaining.
Abridgers, Compilers, and even Translators, in the
present fastidious age, are alike regarded with contempt;
yet to form their works with skill requires an exertion
of judgment, and frequently of taste, of which their
contemners appear to have no conception. It is the
great misfortune of such literrry labours, that even when
performed with ability, the learned will not be found
to want them, and the unlearned have not discernment
to appreciate them.”
ABRINCATARUM oppidum, in Ancient Geogra¬
phy, the town of the Ahnncates or Abrincatui; now
Avranches, in France, situated on an eminence in the
south-west of Normandy, near the borders of Brit¬
tany, on the English channel. W. Long. 1. 10. N.
Eat. 48. 40.
ABROGA I ION, the act of abolishing a law, by
authority of the maker; in which sense the word is sy¬
nonymous with abolition, repealing, and revocation.
Abrogation stands opposed to rogation: it is distin¬
guished from derogation, which implies the taking
away only some part of a law; from subrogation, which
denotes the adding a clause to it; from abrogation,
which implies the limiting or restraining it; from dis¬
pensation, which only sets it aside in a particular in-
Voi.. I. Part I.
' t
] ABB
stance ; and from antiynation, which is the refusing to Abroo-a
pass a law. tj0„ *
ABROivANI, or Mallemolli, a kind of muslin, II
or clear, white, fine cotton cloth, brought from the ,A1)luzzo-
East Indies, particularly from Bengal; being in
length 16 French ells and 3 quarters, and in breadth
5 eighths..
ABROLHOS, in Geography, dangerous shoals or
banks of sand, about 20 leagues from the coast of Bra¬
zil. S. Lat. 18. 22. W. Long. 38. 43.
ABROMA, in Botany. See Botany Index.
ABROTANUM, in Botany. See Artemisia,
Botany Index.
ABROT ONUM, in Ancient Geography, a town and
harbour on the Mediterranean, in the district of Syrtis
Parva in Africa; one of the three cities that formed
Tripoly.
^ ABRUG-Banya, in Geography, a populous town of
I ransylvania, in the district of Weissenburg. It is
situated in a country which abounds with mines of gold
and silver, and is the residence of the mine office, and
chief of the metal towns. E. Long. 23. 24. N. Lat.
46. 50.
ABRUS, in Botany, the trivial name of the Gly¬
cine.
ABRUZZO, a province of Naples. The river
Pescara divides it into two parts ; one of which is call¬
ed Ulterior, of which Aquila is the capital ; and the
other Citerior, whose capital is Ghieti. Besides the Apen¬
nines, there are two considerable mountains, the one
called Monte Cavallo, and the other Monte Majello ;
the top of which last is always covered with snow. A-
bi uzzo is a cold country; but the rigour of the climate
is not so great as to prevent the country from produ¬
cing in abundance every thing requisite for the support
of life. Vegetables, fruits, animals, and numberless
other articles of sustenance, not only furnish ample
provision for the use of the natives, hut also allow of
exportation. It produces so much wheat, that many
thousands of quarters are annually shipped off. Much
lurkey wheat is sent out, and the province of Teranio
sells a great deal of rice little inferior in quality to
that of Lombardy. Oil is a plentiful commodity, and
ivines are made for exportation on many parts of the
coast; but wool lias always been, and still is, their
staple commodity : the flocks, after passing the whole
summer in the fine pastures of the mountains, are driven
for the winter into the warm plains of Puglia, and a
few spots near their own coast, where the snow does not
lie. There are no manufactures of woollens in the pro¬
vince, except two small ones of coarse cloth. The
greatest part of the wool is exported unwrought. No
silk is made here, though mulberry trees would grow
well in the loiv grounds.
Formerly the territory of Aquila furnished Italy al¬
most exclusively with saffron ; but since the culture of
that plant has been so much followed in Lombardy, it
has fallen to nothing 111 Abruzzo. In the maritime
tracts of country the cultivation of liquorice has been
increased of late years, but foreigners export the roots
m their natural state : in the province of Teramo there
is a manufactory of pottery ware, for which there is a
great demand in Germany, by the way of Trieste, as
it is remarkably hard and fine ; but even this is going
F " to
A B R [ 45
to decay, bv being abandoned entirely to tlie igno¬
rance of common workmen. It is not to be expected
that any improvements will be made in arts and manu¬
factures, where the encouragement and attention of su¬
periors is wanting, and no pains taken to render the
commodity more marketable, or to open better channels
of sale for it. The only advantages these provinces
enjoy, are the gift of benevolent nature j but she has
still greater presents in store lor them, and waits only
for the helping hand of government to produce them.
This whole coast, one hundred miles in length, is ut¬
terly destitute of sea ports j and the only spots where
the produce can be embarked are dangerous inconve¬
nient roads, at the mouths of rivers, and along a lee-
shore : the difficulty of procuring shipping, and ol load¬
ing the goods, frequently causes great quantities of
them to rot on hand 5 which damps industry, and pre¬
vents all improvements in agriculture. The husband¬
man is a poor dispirited wretch, and wretchedness pro¬
duces emigration : the uneven surface of the country
occasions it to be inhabited by retail, if the expression
may be used, rather than in large masses j for there is
not a city that contains ten thousand people, and few
of them exceed three thousand. Villages, castles, and
feudatory estates are to be met with in abundance ;
hut the numbers of their inhabitants are to be reckoned
by hundreds, not thousands : in a word, the political
and social system of the province shows no signs of the
vigour which nature so remarkably displays here in all
her operations.
The antiquary and the naturalist may travel here
with exquisite pleasure and profit; the former will find
treasures of inscriptions, and inedited monuments, be¬
longing to the warlike nations that once covered the
face of the country j the natural philosopher will have
a noble field for observation in the stupendous moun¬
tains that rise on all sides. Monte-corno and Majello
are among the most interesting. The first is like an aged
monument of nature, bald, and horribly broken on
every aspect 5 from various appearances, it is evident
that its bowels contain many valuable veins of metallic
ore •, hut the great difficulty of access renders the search
of them almost impracticable. Majello has other merits,
and of a gayer kind :—nature has clothed its declivities
and elevated fields with an infinite variety of plants.
The character of the inhabitants varies a little among
themselves, according to situation and climate, but es¬
sentially from the disposition of the natives of the more
southern provinces. This proceeds from a difference
of origin : for the Lombards, who were barbarians,
but not cruel ; poor, but hospitable ; endowed with
plain honest sense, though possessed of little acuteness
or subtlety j remained peaceable proprietors of these
mountainous regions, till the Normans, who were ac¬
customed to a similar climate, came and dispossessed
them. The Greeks who retained almost every other
part of the kingdom under their dominion, never had
any sway here. For this reason the Abruzzesi still
bear a great resemblance to their northern progenitors
nr masters : to this day one may trace in them the
same goodness of heart, but great indolence and re¬
pugnance to lively exertions •, a fault that proceeds ra¬
ther from a want of active virtue, than a disposition to
wickedness. Hence it comes, that in these provinces,
where the proximity of the frontier almost ensures itn-
. ] A B S
punity, fewer atrocious and inhuman deeds are heard Abruzzo
of than in other parts of the realm. Remnants of an- 11
cient northern customs existed here so late as the be- ,Abs!mafUS‘
ginning of this century, and, among the mountaineers,
very evident traces of the Frank and Teutonic lan¬
guages may be discovered.
ABSALOM, in Scripture History, the son of Da¬
vid by Maacab, was brother to Tamar, David’s daugh¬
ter, who was ravished by Amnon their eldest brother
by another mother. Absalom waited two years for an
opportunity of revenging the injury done to his sister:
and at last procured the assassination of Amnon at a
feast which he had prepared for the king’s sons. He
took refuge with Talmai king of Geshur ; and was no
sooner restored to favour, but he engaged the Israelites
to revolt from his father. Absalom was defeated in
the wood of Ephraim : as he was flying, his hair
caught hold of an oak, where he hung till Joab came
and thrust him through with three darts : David had
expressly ordered his life to be spared, and extremely
lamented him. The weight of Absalom’s hair, which
is stated at “ 2CO shekels after the king’s weight,”
has occasioned much critical discussion. If, according
to some, the Jewish shekel of silver was equal to half an
ounce avoirdupois, 200 shekels would be 6^ pounds ;
or, according to Josephus, if the 200 shekels be equal
to 5 minse, and each mina 2-| pounds, the weight of
the hair would be I2|- pounds, a supposition not very
credible. It has been supposed by others, that the she¬
kel here denotes a weight in gold equal to the value
of the silver shekel, or half an ounce, which will re¬
duce the weight of the hair to about 5 ounces; or that
the 200 shekels are meant to express the value, not the
weight.
ABSCESS, in Surgery ; from abscedo, to separate 5
a cavity containing pus; or a collection of puriforni
matter in a part : So called, because the parts which
were joined are now separated j one part recedes from
another, to make way for the collected matter. See
Surgery.
ABSCISSE, in Conics, a part of the diameter or
transverse axis of a conic section, intercepted between
the vertex or some other fixed point and a semiordinate.
See Conic Sections.
ABSCONSA, a dark lantern used by the monks at
the ceremony of burying their dead.
ABSENCE, in Scots Law : When a person cited
before a court does not appear, and judgment is pro¬
nounced, that judgment is said to be in absence. No
person can be tried criminally in absence.
ABSENTEE, a person absent from his station, em¬
ployment, or country. See Supplement.
ABSIMARUS, in History, having dethroned Leon¬
tius, cut off his nose and ears, and shut him up in a
monastery, was proclaimed by the soldiers emperor of
the East, A. D. 698. Leontius himself was also an
usurper. He had dethroned Justinian II. who, after¬
wards, with the assistance of the Bulgarians, surprised
and took Constantinople and made Absimarus prisoner.
Justinian, now settled on the throne, and having both
Absimarus and Leontius in his power, loaded them with
chains, ordered them to lie down on the ground, and
with a barbarous pleasure, held a foot on the neck of
each for the space of an hour in presence of the people,
■who with shouts and exclamations sung, Super aspi-
A B S [ 43 ] A B S
Absimarus dem et hasiliscum ambulabis, et conculcabis Iconcm et
U draconem. “ Thou shalt -vvallc on the asp and the ba-
Absolute. silisk, and tread on the lion and the dragon.” By the
v orders of Justinian, Absimarus and Leontius were be¬
headed, A. D. 705.
ABSINTHIATED, any thing tinged or impreg¬
nated with absinthium or wormwood. Bartholin men¬
tions a woman whose milk was become absinthiated,
and rendered as bitter as gall, by the too liberal use of
wormwood.
Vinum absinthites, orpoci/lum absinthiatum, “ worm¬
wood wine,” is much spoken of among the ancients as
a wholesome drink, and even an antidote against drunk¬
enness. Its medical virtues depend on its aromatic
and bitter qualities. Infused in wine or spirits, it may
prove beneficial in cases of indigestion or debility of
the stomach.
ABSINTHIUM, in Botany, the trivial name of
the common wormwood. See Artemisia, Botany
Index.
ABSIS, in Astronomy, the same with apsis. See
Apsis.
ABSOLUTE, in a general sense, something that
stands free or independent.
Absolute is more particularly understood of a being
or thing which does not proceed from any cause, or
does not subsist by virtue of any other being, consider¬
ed as its cause *, in which sense, God alone is absolute.
Absolute, in this sense, is synonymous with independent,
and stands opposed to dependent.
Absolute also denotes a thing that is free from
conditions or limitations ; in which sense, the word is
synonymous with unconditional. We say, an absolute
decree, absolute promise, absolute obedience.
Absolute Government, that in which the prince is
left solely to his own will, being not limited to the ob¬
servance of any laws except those of his own discre¬
tion.
Absolute Equations, in Astronomy, is the aggregate
of the optic and eccentric equations. The apparent
inequality of a planet’s motion, arising from its not be¬
ing equally distant from the earth at all times, is call¬
ed its optic equation, and would subsist even if the pla¬
net’s real motion were uniform. The eccentric ine¬
quality is caused by the planet’s motion being uniform.
To illustrate which, conceive the sun to move, or to
appear to move, in the circumference of a circle, in
whose centre the earth is placed. It is manifest, that
if the sun moves uniformly in this circle, it must appear
to move uniformly to a spectator on the earth, and in
this case there will be no optic nor eccentric equation ;
but suppose the earth to be placed out of the centre of
the circle, and then, though the sun’s motion should be
really uniform, it would not appear to be so, when seen
# from the earth j and in this case there would be an optic
equation, without an eccentric one. Imagine farther,
the sun’s orbit to be not circular but elliptic, and the
earth in its focus 5 it will be as evident that the sun
cannot appear to have an uniform motion in such el¬
lipse : so that his motion will then be subject to two
equations, the optic and the eccentric.
Absolute Number, in Algebra, is any pure number
standing in any equation without the conjunction of li¬
teral characters ; as 2 .r -f- 36 = 48 j where 36 and 48
are absolute numbers, but 2 is not, as being joined with Abselute
the letter x. jj
ABSOLUTION, in Civil Law, is a sentence where-AbsorPt*on*
by the party accused is declared innocent of the crime
laid to his charge.—Among the Romans, the ordinary
method of pronouncing judgment was this: after the
cause had been pleaded on both sides, the prscco used
the word dixerunt, q. d. they have said what they had
to say j then three ballots were distributed to each
judge, marked as mentioned under the article A j and
as the majority fell of either mark, the accused was ab¬
solved or condemned, &c. If he were absolved, the
praetor dismissed him with videtur non fecisse, or jure
videtur fccisse.
Absolution, in the Canon Law, is a juridical act,
whereby the priest declares the sins of such as are peni¬
tent remitted.—The Romanists hold absolution a part of
the sacrament of penance j the council of Trent, sess.
xiv. cap. iii. and that of Florence, in the decree ad Ar-
menos, declare the form or essence of the sacrament to
lie in the words of absolution, I absolve thee of thy sins.
The formula of absolution, in the Romish church, is ab¬
solute : in the Greek church, it is deprecatory 3 and in
the churches of the reformed, declarative.
Absolution is chiefly used among Protestants for a
sentence by which a person who stands excommunica¬
ted is released or freed from that punishment.
ABSORBENT , in general, any thing possessing the
faculty of absorbing, or swallowing up another.
Absobbest Medicines, testaceous powders, or sub¬
stances into which calcareous earth enters, as chalk,
crabs eyes, See. which are taken inwardly, for drying up
or absorbing any acid or redundant humours in the sto¬
mach or intestines. They are likewise applied external¬
ly to ulcers or sores with the same intention.
Absorbents, or Absorbing Vessels, in Anatomy,
a name given promiscuously to the lacteal vessels, lym¬
phatics, and inhalant arteries, a minute kind of ves¬
sels found in animal bodies, which imbibe fluids that
come in contact with them. On account of their
minuteness and transparency, they escape observation
in ordinary dissection. They have, however, been
detected in every tribe of animals, and, in the ani¬
mals which have been examined, in every part of the
body. Those which open into the stomach and intes¬
tines, and convey the chyle, which is a milky fluid,
from these organs to the blood, have received the name
of lacteals, or lacteal vessels ; and those which open on
the external surface, and the surface of all the cavities
of the body, have been denominated lymphatics, from
the lymph or colourless fluid which they contain. See
Anatomy.
ABSORBING, the swallowing up, sucking up, or
imbibing any thing: thus black bodies are said to ab¬
sorb the rays of light ; luxuriant branches, to absorb, or
waste the nutritious juices which should feed the fruit
of trees, &c.
ABSORPTION, in the animal economy, is the
function of the absorbent vessels, or that power by
which they take up and propel substances. This power
has been ascribed to the operation of different cau¬
ses, according to the theories which physiologists have
proposed. Some attribute it to capillary attraction,
others to the pressure of the atmosphere, and others to
F 2 an
A B S
[ 44 ]
A B S
Ataorrtion an ambiguous or unknown cause which they denomi-
AiJnUl JJVlull o . , t tUp „la_
II
Abstemi-
nate suction ; for this last is nothing else than the ela¬
stic power of one part of the air restoring the equili¬
brium, which has been destroyed by the removal or ra¬
refaction of another part.
Absorptions of the Barth, a term used by Kircher
and others for the sinking in of large tracts of land by
means of subterranean commotions, and many other ac¬
cidents. .
Pliny tells us, that in his time the mountain Lym-
botus, with the town of Curites, which stood on its
side, were wholly absorbed into the earth, so that not
the least trace of either remained ; and he records the
like fate of the city of Tantalis in Magnesia, and after
it of the mountain Sypilus, both thus absorbed by a
violent opening of the earth. Galamis and Gamales,
towns once famous in Phoenicia, are recorded to have
met the same fate ; and the vast promontory, called
Phegium, in Ethiopia, after a violent earthquake in the
night-time, was not to be seen in the morning, the
whole having disappeared, and the earth closed over
it. These and many other histories, attested by the
authors of greatest credit among the ancients, abun¬
dantly prove the fact in the earlier ages •, and there
have not been wanting too many instances of more mo¬
dern date. {Kircher"1 s Mund. Suhter. p. 77.)
Picus, a lofty mountain in one of the Molucca isles,
which was seen at a great distance, and served as a
land-mark to sailors, was entirely destroyed by an
earthquake 5 and its place is now occupied by a lake,
the shores of which correspond exactly to the base ot
the mountain. In 1556, a similar accident happened
in China. A whole province ot the mountainous part
of the country, with all the inhabitants, sunk in a mo¬
ment, and was totally swallowed up : The space which
was formerly land was also covered with an extensive
lake of water. And, during the earthquakes which
prevailed in the kingdom ot Chili, in the year 1646, se¬
veral whole mountains of the Andes sunk and disap¬
peared.
ABSORUS, Apsorus, Absyrtis, Absyrtides,
Apsyrtides, Afsyrtis, and Absyrtium, (Strabo,
Mela, Ptolemy) J islands in the Adriatic, in the gulf
of Carnero 5 so called from Absyrtus, Medea’s bro¬
ther, there slain. They are either one island, or two
separated by a narrow channel, and joined by a bridge j
and are now called Cherso and Osero.
ABSTE1NEN, in Geography, a district near the
river Memel in Little Lithuania. It is a mountainous
country, but is fertile in grain, and abounds with sheep
and excellent horses.
ABSTEM1I, in church history, a name given to
such persons as could not partake of the cup of the eu-
charist on account of their natural aversion to wine.
Calvinists allow these to communicate in the species or
bread only, touching the cup with their lip *, which,
on the other hand, is by the Lutherans deemed a pro¬
fanation.
ABSTEMIOUS, is properly understood of a per¬
son who refrains absolutely from all use of wine.
The history of Mr Wood, in the Medic. Trans,
vol. ii. p. 261, art. 18. is a very remarkable exem-
plilkation of the very beneficial alterations which may
be efleeted on the human body by a strict course of
abstemiousness.
The Roman ladies, in the first ages of the republic, AbAcmiov)*
were all enjoined to be abstemious j and that it might
appear, by their breath, whether or no they kept up to Abstinence,
the injunction, it was one of the laws of the Roman v '
civility, that they should kiss their friends and relations
whenever they accosted them.
ABSTEMIUS, Laurentius, a native of Macera-
ta, professor of belles lettres in Urbino, and librarian
of Duke Guido Ubaldo, under the pontificate of A-
lexander VI. He wrote, 1. Notes on most difficult
passages of ancient authors. 2. Hecatomythium, i. e.
A collection of an hundred fables, &c. which have
been often printed with those of iEsop, Phsedrus, Ga-
brias, Avienus, &c. and a preface to the edition of Au¬
relius Victor published at Venice in 1505.
ABSTERGENT MEDICINES, those employed for
resolving obstructions, concretions, &c. such as soap,
&c.
ABSTINENCE, in a general sense, the act or ha¬
bit of refraining from something to which there is a
strong propensity. Among the Jews, various kinds of
abstinence were ordained by their law. I he Pytha¬
goreans, when initiated, were enjoined to abstain from
animal food, except the remains of sacrifices 5 and to
drink nothing but water, unless in the evening, when
they were permitted to take a small portion of wine.
Among the primitive Christians, some denied them¬
selves the use of such meats as were prohibited by that
law, others regarded this abstinence with contempt j
of which St Raul gives his opinion, Rom. xiv. 1—3.
The council of Jerusalem, which was held by the apo¬
stles, enjoined the Christian converts to abstain from
meats strangled, from blood, from fornication, and
from idolatry. Abstinence, as prescribed by the gos¬
pel, is intended to mortify and restrain the passions,
to humble our vicious natures, and by that means raise
our minds to a due sense of devotion. But there is
another sort of abstinence, which may he called ritual,
and consists in abstaining from particular meats at cer¬
tain times and seasons. It was the spiritual monarchy
of the western world which first introduced this ritual
abstinence ; the rules of which were called rotations;
but grossly abused from the true nature and design of
fasting. In England, abstinence from flesh has been
enjoined by statute since the Reformation, particularly
on Fridays and Saturdays, on vigils, and on all com¬
monly called fish days. The like injunctions were re¬
newed under Queen Elizabeth : but at the same time
it was declared, that this was done not out of motives
of religion, as if there were any difference in meats •,
but in favour of the consumption of fish, and to multi¬
ply the number of fishermen and mariners, as well as
to spare the stock of sheep. The great last, says St
Augustin, is to abstain from sin.
Abstinence is more particularly used for a spare
diet, or a slender parsimonious use of food. Physicians
relate wonders of the effects of abstinence in the cure
of many disorders, and protracting, the term of life.
The noble Venetian Cornaro, after all imaginable
means had proved vain, so that his life was despaired
of at 40, recovered, and lived to near 100, by the
mere effect of abstinence ; as he himself gives the ac¬
count. It is indeed surprising to what a great age the
primitive Christians of the east, who retired from the
persecutions into the deserts of Arabia and Egypt, li-
A B S [ 45 ] A B S
Abstinence. ve4 healthful and cheerful, on a very little food.
y. — ./ Cassian assures us, that the common rate for 24 hours
was 12 ounces of bread, and pure water: with such
frugal fare St Anthony lived 105 years ; James the
Hermit, 104 ; Arsenins, tutor of the emperor Arca-
diusj 120 j St Epiphanius, 115; Simeon the Stylite,
112', and Romauld, 120. Indeed, we can match
these instances of longevity at home. Buchanan in¬
forms us, that one Laurence arrived at the great age
of 140 by force of temperance and labour ; and Spots-
wood mentions one Kentigern, afterwards called St
Mongah or Mungo, who lived to 185 by the same
means. Abstinence, however, is to be recommended
only as it means a proper regimen 5 for in general it
must have bad consequences when observed without a
due regard to constitution, age, strength, &c. Ac¬
cording to Dr Cheyne, most of the chronical diseases,
the infirmities of old age, and the short lives of Eng¬
lishmen, are owing to repletion ; and may be either
cured, prevented, or remedied by abstinence 5 but then
the kinds of abstinence which ought to be observed,
either in sickness or health, are to be deduced from the
laws of diet and regimen.
Among the inferior animals, we see extraordinary
instances of long abstinence. The serpent kind, in par¬
ticular, bear abstinence to a wonderful degree. We
have seen rattle-snakes which had lived many months
without any food, yet still retained their vigour and
fierceness. Dr Shaw speaks of a couple of cerastes (a
sort of Egyptian serpents), which had been kept five
years in a bottle close corked, without any sort of food,
unless a small quantify of sand in which they coiled
themselves up in the bottom of the vessel may be rec¬
koned as such : yet when he saw them, they had new¬
ly cast their skins, and were as brisk and lively as if
just taken. But it is natural for divers species to pass
four, five, or six months every year, without either eat¬
ing or drinking. Accordingly, the tortoise, bear, dor¬
mouse, serpent, &c. are observed regularly to retire, at
those seasons, to their respective cells, and hide them¬
selves, some in the caverns of rocks or ruins; others
dig holes under ground ; others get into woods, and
lay themselves up in the clefts of trees ; others bury
themselves under water, &c. And these animals are
found as flat and fleshy, after some months abstinence, as
* Phil. before.—Sir G. Ent* weighed his tortoise several years
Trant. successively, at its going to earth in October, and coming
1^4. out again in March ; and found, that of four pounds
four ounces, it only used to lose about one ounce. In¬
deed we have instances of men passing several months
as strictly abstinent as other creatures. In particular,
the records ot the Tower mention a Scotchman im¬
prisoned lor felony, and strictly watched in that fortress
for six weeks, during which time he did not take the
least sustenance : and on this account he obtained his
pardon. Numberless instances of extraordinary ab¬
stinence, particularly from morbid causes, are to be
found in the different periodical Memoirs, Transactions,
Ephemerides, &c. It is to be added, that, in most in¬
stances of extraordinary human abstinence related by
naturalists, there were said to have been apparent
marks of a texture of blood and humours, much like
that of the animals above mensioned. Though it is
no improbable opinion, that the air itself may furnish
something for nutrition, it is certain, there are sub¬
stances of all kinds, animal, vegetable, &c. floating Abstinence
in the atmosphere, which must be continually taken in f)
by respiration; and that an animal body may be nourish- Abstrac-
ed thereby, is evident in the instance of vipers; which , ,
if taken when first brought forth, and kept from every
thing but air, will yet grow very considerably in a few
days. So the eggs of lizards are observed to increase
in bulk, alter they are produced, and in like manner
the eggs or spawn of fishes grow and are nourished
with the water. And hence, say some, it is that cooks,
turnspit dogs, &c. though they eat but little, yet are
usually fat. See Fasting. See also Dietetic^,
Supplement.
ABSTINENTS, or Abstinentes, a set of here¬
tics that appeared in France and Spain about the end
of the third century. They are supposed to have bor¬
rowed part of their opinions from the Gnostics and Ma-
nicheans, because they opposed marriage, condemned
the use of flesh meat, and placed the Holy Ghost in
the class of created beings. We have, however, no
certain account of their peculiar tenets.
ABSTRACT, in a general sense, any thing sepa¬
rated from something else.
Abstract Idea, in Metaphysics, is a partial idea of
a complex object, limited to one or more of the compo¬
nent parts or properties, laying aside or abstracting from
the rest. Thus, in viewing an object with the eve, or
recollecting it in the mind, we can easily abstract from
some of its parts or properties, and attach ourselves to
others : we can attend to the redness of a cherry, with¬
out regard to its figure, taste, or consistence. See Ab¬
straction.
Abstract Mathematics, otherwise called Pure Ma¬
thematics, is that which treats of magnitude or quantity,
absolutely and generally considered, without restriction
to any species of particular magnitude ; such are A-
rithmetic and Geometry. In this sense, abstract ma¬
thematics is opposed to mixed mathematics ; wherein
simple and abstract properties, and the relations of
quantities primitively considered in pure mathematics,
are applied to sensible objects, and by that means be¬
come intermixed with physical considerations.; such are
Hydrostatics, Optics, Navigation, &c.
Abstract Numbers, are assemblages of units, con- ~
sidered in themselves, without denoting any particular
and determinate things. Thus six is an abstract num¬
ber, when not applied to any thing; but if we say 6
feet, 6 becomes a concrete number. See the article
Number.
Abstract Terms, words that are used to express ab¬
stract ideas. Thus beauty, ugliness, whiteness, round¬
ness, life, death, are abstract terms.
Abstract, in Literature, a compendious view of any
large work; shorter and more superficial than an
abridgement.
ABSTRACTION, in general, the art of abstract¬
ing, or the state of being abstracted.
Abstraction, in Metaphysics, the operation of the
mind when occupied by abstract ideas. A large oak
fixes our attention, and abstracts us from the shrubs
that surround it. In the same manner, a beautiful
woman in a crowd, abstracts our thoughts, and engros¬
ses our attention solely to herself. These are examples
of real abstraction: when these, or any others of a si¬
milar kind, are recalled to the mind after the object*
themselve*
A B S [ 46 ] ABU
Abstrac- themselves are removed from our sight, they form what
tion are called abstract ideas, or the mind is said to be em-
II ployed in abstract ideas. But the power of abstraction
Absyrtus.. .g ^ confined to objects that are separable in reality
as well as mentally: the size, the figure, the colour of
a tree, are inseparably connected, and cannot exist in¬
dependent of each other; and yet we can mentally con¬
fine our observations to any one of these properties, ne¬
glecting or abstracting from the rest.
Abstraction is chiefly employed these three ways.
First, When the mind considers any one part of a
thing, in some respect distinct from the whole ; as a
man’s arm, without the consideration of the rest of the
body. Secondly, When we consider the mode of any
substance, omitting the substance itself; or when we
separately consider several modes which subsist toge¬
ther in one subject. This abstraction the geometricians
make use of when they consider the length of a body
separately, which they call a line, omitting the consi¬
deration of its breadth and thickness. Thirdly, It is
by abstraction that the mind forms general or universal
ideas : omitting the modes and relations of the particu¬
lar objects whence they are formed. Thus, when we
would understand a thinking being in general, we ga¬
ther from our self-consciousness what it is to think ; and
omitting those things which have a particular relation
to our own minds, or to the human mind, we conceive
a thinking being in general.
Ideas formed in this manner, which are what we
properly call abstract ideas, become general representa¬
tives of all objects of the same kind ; and their names
applicable to whatever exists conformable to such ideas.
Thus the idea of colour that we receive from chalk,
snow', milk, &c. is a representative of all of that kind ;
and has a name given it, whiteness, which signifies the
same quality wherever found or imagined.
ABSTRUSE, something deep, hidden, concealed,
or far removed from common apprehensions, and there¬
fore not easily understood ; in opposition to what is
obvious and palpable. Thus metaphysics is an abstruse
science ; and the doctrine of fluxions, and the method
de maximis et minimis, are abstruse points of know¬
ledge.
ABSURD, an epithet applied to any thing that is
contrary to human apprehension, and contradicts a ma¬
nifest truth. Thus, it would be absurd to say that 6
and 6 make only 10, or to deny that twice 6 make 12.
When the term absurd is applied to actions, it has the
same import as ridiculous.
ABSURDUM, reductio ad absurdum, is a mode of
demonstration employed by mathematicians when they
prove the truth of a proposition by demonstrating that
the contrary is impossible, or leads to an absurdity. It
is in this manner that Euclid demonstrates the fourth
proposition of the first book of the Elements, by show¬
ing that the contrary involves a manifest absurdity, viz.
“ That two straight lines can inclose a space."1'
ABSYNTHIUM. See Artemisia, Botany In¬
dex.
ABSYRTUS, in heathen mythology, the son of
iEtes and Hypsea, and the brother of Medea. The
latter running away with Jason, after her having assist¬
ed him in carrying off the golden fleece, was pursued
by her father ; when, to stop his progress, she tore Ab-
syrtus in pieces, and scattered his limbs in his way.
ABTHANES, in History, a title of honour used by Abthancs,
the ancient inhabitants of Scotland, who called their Abubeker.
nobles thanes, which in the old Saxon signifies king's'~~~v~mmmi
ministers ; and of these the higher rank were styled
abthanes, and those of the lower underthanes.
ABUBEKER, or Abu-Bi.cr, the first caliph, the
immediate successor of Mahomet, and one of his first
converts. His original name was Abdulcaaba, signi¬
fying, servant of the caaba or temple, which, after his
conversion to Mahometanism, was changed to Abdallah,
servant of God; and on the marriage of the prophet
with his daughter Ayesha, he received the appellation
of Abu-Becr, Father of the virgin. Illustrious by his fa¬
mily, and possessed of immense wealth, his influence and
example were powerful means of propagating the faith
he had adopted, and in gaining converts to the new re¬
ligion. Abubeker was a sound believer, and although
he lived in the greatest familiarity with Mahomet, he
had always the highest veneration for his character.
He vouched for the truth of his revelations after his
nightly visits to heaven, and thus obtained the appella¬
tion oi i\w faithful. He was employed in every mis¬
sion of trust or importance, was the constant friend of
the prophet, and when he was forced to fly from Mecca,
was his only companion. But notwithstanding his
blind devotion to Mahometanism, his moderation and
prudence were conspicuous in checking the fanatical
zeal of the disciples of the new religion, on the death
of Mahomet. This event threatened destruction to the
doctrines of Islamism. Its followers could not doubt
that it had taken place, and they were afraid to believe
it. In this uncertainty and fluctuation of belief, Omar
drew his sword, and threatened to cut in pieces all who
dared to assert that the prophet was dead. Abubeker,
with more coolness and wisdom, addressed the people.
Is it, says he, Mahomet whom you adore, or the God
whom he has revealed to you 9 Know that this God is
alone immortal, and that all those whom he has created
are subject to death. Appeased and reconciled by this
speech, they elected him successor to Mahomet, and he
assumed the modest title of caliph, which has continued
with all his successors. Ali, the son-in-law of the pro¬
phet, regarding the elevation of Abubeker as a viola¬
tion of his legal rights to the succession, refused at first
to recognise the appointment, till he was forced by
threats into compliance and submission. His partisans,
however, still considered him as the legitimate successor,
and their opinion has prevailed among many Mussul¬
mans, who believe that the sovereign authority, both
spiritual and temporal, remains with his descendants.
The first part of the reign of Abubeker was unset¬
tled and turbulent. Many of his subjects returned to
idolatry, some embraced Christianity, new impostors
arose. Seduced by the example of Mahomet, they were
dazzled with the hope of power and distinction, and
were thus led on to destruction. He alone was received
as the true prophet, all others were false. Abubeker,
with the assistance of Caled, an able general, soon re¬
duced to submission and obedience, or punished with
death, all those who disputed or resisted his authority.
Tranquillity being established at home, he sent out his
armies, under the same general, to propagate the Ma¬
hometan faith in Syria, which, after a bloody battle,
was compelled to submit to a new power, and to adopt
a new religion. Damascus was afterwards besieged ;
/
ABU [ 47 ] A B Y
Abubeker und on the very day that it surrendered and opened its
f! gates to his victorious arms, Abuheker expired in the
Abundant j^th year of the. Hegira.
' v ' The public conduct of this caliph was marked by
prudence, equity, and moderation. Mild and simple in
his manners, frugal in his fare, he discovered great in¬
difference to riches and honours. Such was his libe¬
rality to the poor and to his soldiers, that he bestowed
on them the whole of his revenue. The treasury being
on this account quite exhausted at his death, made
Omar say, “ that he had left a difficult example for his
successors to follow.” A short time before bis death,
be dictated his will in the following words : “ This is
the will of Abubeker, which he dictated at the mo¬
ment of his departure from this world : At this moment
when the infidel shall believe, when the impious shall
no longer doubt, and liars shall speak truth, I name
Omar for my successor. Mussulmans, hear his voice,
and obey his commands. If he rule justly, he will con¬
firm the good opinion which I have conceived of him ;
but if be deviate from the paths of equity, he must
render an account before the tribunal of the sovereign
judge. My thoughts are upright, but I cannot see
into futurity. In a word, they who do evil, shall not
always escape with impunity.” Abubeker first col¬
lected and digested the revelations of Mahomet, which
had hitherto been preserved in detached fragments, or
in the memories of the believers •, and to this the Ara¬
bians gave the appellation Almoshaf, or the Book. The
first copy was deposited in the hands of Hafessa, the
daughter of Omar and the widow of Mahomet.
ABUCCO, Abocco, or Abochi, a weight used in
the kingdom of Pegu. One abucco contains 12^ tec-
calis ; two abuccos make a giro or agire ; two girt, half
a /ii%a; and a k/'zi weighs an hundred teccalis ; that
is, two pounds five ounces the heavy weight, or three
pounds nine ounces the light weight of Venice.
ABUKESO, in commerce, the same with Aslan.
ABULFARAGIUS, Gregory, son of Aaron a
physician, born in 1226, in the city of Malatia, near
the source of the Euphrates in Armenia. He followed
the profession of his father $ and practised with great
success : but he acquired a higher reputation by the stu¬
dy of the Greek, Syriac, and Arabic languages, as
well as by Ins knowledge of philosophy and divinity 5
and he wrote a history ivliich does great honour to his
memory. It is written in Arabic, and divided into dy¬
nasties. It consists of ten parts, being an epitome of
universal history from the creation of the world to his
own time. The parts of it relating to the Saracens,
Tartar Moguls, and the conquests of Jengbis Khan, are
esteemed the most valuable. He professed Christianity,
and was bishop of Aleppo, and is supposed to have be¬
longed to the sect of the Jacobites. His contemporaries
speak of him in a strain of most extravagant panegyric.
He is styled the king of the learned, the pattern of his
times, the phccnix o f the age, and the crown of the vir¬
tuous. Dr Pococke published his history with a Latin
translation in 1663.
Abulfazf.l, an eastern writer of eminence. See
Supplement.
ABUNA, the title given to the archbishop or me¬
tropolitan of Abyssinia.
ABUNDANT number, in Arithmetic, is a num¬
ber, the sum of whose aliquot parts is greater than the
number itself. Thus the aliquot parts of 12, being I, Abundant
2, 3, 4, and 6, they make, when added together, 16. II
An abundant number is opposed to a deficient number, Abydos.
or that which is greater than all its aliquot parts taken ' v~
together ; as 14, whose aliquot parts are 1, 2, and 7,
which makes no more than 10 : and to ^.perfect num¬
ber, or one to which its aliquot parts are equal, as 6,
whose aliquot parts are 1, 2, and 3.
ABUNDANTIA, a heathen divinity, represent¬
ed in ancient monuments under the figure of a wo¬
man with a pleasing aspect, crowned with garlands of
flowers, pouring all sorts of fruits out of a horn which
she holds in her right hand, and scattering grain with
her left, taken promiscuously from a sheaf of corn.
On a medal of Trajan she is represented with two cor-
nucopire.
ABUSATD Ebn Aljaptu, sultan of the Moguls,
succeeded his father, anno 717 of the Hegira. He was
the last monarch of the race of Jenghis Khan, who held
the undivided empire of the Moguls ; for after his death,
which happened the same year that Tamerlane was
born, it became a scene of blood and desolation, and
was broken into separate sovereignties.
ABUS, in Ancient Geography, a river of Britain,
formed by the confluence of the Ure, the Derwent,
Trent, &c. falling into the German sea, between York¬
shire and Lincolnshire, and forming the mouth of the
Humber.
ABUSE, au irregular use of a thing, or the introdu¬
cing something contrary to the true intention thereof.
In grammar, to apply a word abusively, or in an abusive
sense, is to misapply or pervert its meaning.—A permu¬
tation of benefices, without the consent of the bishop, is
termed abusive, and consequently null.
ABU-TEMAN, an Arabian poet. See Supplement.
ABUTILON, in Botany, the trivial name of se¬
veral species of the sida. See SlDA, Botany Index.
ABYDOS, in Ancient Geography, anciently a town
built by the Milesians, in Asia, on the Hellespont, where
it is scarce a mile over, opposite to Sestos on the Euro¬
pean side. Now both are called the Dardanelles. Abydos
lay midway between Lampsacus and Ilium, famous for
Xerxes’s bridge, (Herodotus, Virgil 5) and for the loves
of Leander and Hero, (Musseus, Ovid ;) celebrated
also for its oysters (Ennius, Virgil). The inhabitants
were a soft effeminate people, given much to detraction j
hence the proverb, Nc temere Abydum caleare, when
we would caution against danger, (Stephanus).
Abydos, in Ancient Geography, an inland town of
Egypt, between Ptolemais and Diospolis Parva, towards
Syene 5 famous for the palace of Memnon and the
temple of Osiris. A colony of Milesians ; (Stephanus).
It was the only one in the country into which the sing¬
ers and dancers were forbidden to enter.
The city, reduced to a village under the empire of
Augustus, now presents to our view only a heap of
ruins without inhabitants; but to the west of these
ruins is still found the celebrated tomb of Osymandes.
The entrance is under a portico 60 feet high, and sup¬
ported by two rows of massy columns. The immove¬
able solidity of the edifice, the huge masses which com¬
pose it, the hieroglyphics it is loaded with, stamp it a
work of the ancient Egyptians. Beyond it is a temple
300 feet long and 145 wide. Upon entering the mo¬
nument we meet with an immense hall, the roof of
which
A B Y T 48 ] A B Y
Abvdoi which is supported by 28 columns 60 feet high, and 19
y in circumference at the base. They are 1 2 feet distant
froni each other. The enormous stones that form that
 v ' ceiling, perfectly joined and incrusted, as it were, one
in the other, offer to the eye nothing but one solid plat¬
form of marble 126 feet long and 26 wide. 'J he walls
are covered with hieroglyphics. One sees there a mul¬
titude of animals, birds, and human figures with pomt-
ed caps on their heads, and a piece of stud hanging
down behind, dressed in loose robes that come down
only to the waist. The sculpture, however, is clumsy j
the forms of the body, the attitudes and proportions of
the members, ill observed. Amongst these we may di¬
stinguish some women suckling their children, and men
presenting offerings to them. Here also vye meet with
the divinities of India. Monsieur Chevalier, formerly
Efovernor of Chandernagore, who resided 20 years in
that country, carefully visited this monument on his re¬
turn from Bengal. He remarked here the gods Jag*
grenate, Gones, and Vechnou or Wistriou, such as they are
represented in the temples of Indostan. A gieat gate
opens at the bottom of the first hall, which leads to an
apartment 46 feet long by 22 wide. Six square pillars
support the roof of it; and at the angles are the doors
of four other chambers, but so choked up with rub¬
bish that they cannot now be entered. The last hall,
64 feet long by 24 wide, has stairs by which one de¬
scends into the subterraneous apartments of this grand
edifice. The Arabs, in searching after treasure, have
piled up heaps of earth and rubbish. In the part we
are able to penetrate, sculpture and hieroglyphics are
discoverable as in the upper story. The natives say
that they correspond exactly with those above ground,
and that the columns are as deep in the earth as their
height above the surface. It would be dangerous to
go far into those vaults; for the air of them is so load¬
ed with a mephitic vapour, that a candle can scarce be
kept burning in them. Six lions heads, placed on the
two sides of the temple, serve as spouts to carry off the
water. You mount to the top by a staircase of a very
singular structure. It is built with stones incrusted in
the wall, and projecting six feet out j so that being
supported only at one end, they appear to be suspended
in the air. The walls, the roof, and the columns of
this edifice, have suffered nothing from the injuries of
time; and did not the 'hieroglyphics, by being cor¬
roded in some places, mark its antiquity, it would ap¬
pear to have been newly built. The solidity is such,
that unless people make a point of destroying it, the
building-must last a great number of ages. Except the
colossal figures, whose heads serve as an ornament to
the capitals of the columns, and which are sculptured
in relievo, the rest .of the hieroglyphics which cover the
inside are carved in stone. To the left of this great
building we meet with another much smaller, at the
bottom of which is a sort of altar. This -was probably
the sanctuary of the temple of Osiris.
ABYLA (Ptolemy, Mela) ; one of Hercules’s pil¬
lars, on the African side, called by the Spaniards Sierra
de las Monas, opposite to Calpe in Spain, the other pil¬
lar; supposed to have been formerly joined, but sepa¬
rated by Hercules, and thus to have given entrance to
the sea now called the Mediterranean; the limits of the
labours of Hercules (Pliny^.
ABYSS, in a general sense, denotes something pro¬
found, and, as it were, bottomless. The word is oti- Aims,
gin ally Greek, ecSvirro?; compounded of the privative— v—•
«, and (sva-troi, q. d. without a bottom.
Abyss, in a more particular sense, denotes a deep
mass or fund of waters. In this sense, the word is
particularly used in the Septuagint, for the water
which God created at the beginning with the earth,
which encompassed it round, and which our translators
render by deep. Thus it is that darkness is said to have
been on the face of the abyss.
Abyss is also used for an immense cavern in the
earth, in which God is supposed to have collected all
those waters on the third day; which, in our version,
is rendered the seas, and elsewhere the great deep. Hr
Woodward, in his Natural History of the Earth, as¬
serts, That there is a mighty collection of waters en¬
closed in the bowels of the earth, constituting a huge
orb in the interior or central parts of it; and over the
surface of this water he supposes the terrestrial strata to
be expanded. This, according to him, is what Moses
calls the great deep, and what most authors render the
great abyss. The water of this vast abyss, he alleges,
communicates with that of the ocean, by means of cer¬
tain hiatuses or chasms passing betwixt it and the bot¬
tom of the ocean ; and this and the abyss he supposes
to have one common centre, around which the water
of both is placed ; but so, that the ordinary surface of
the abyss is not level with that of the ocean, nor at so
great a distance from the centre as the other, it being
for the most part restrained and depressed by the strata
of earth lying upon it: but wherever these strata are
broken, or so lax and porous that water can pervade
them, there the water of the abyss ascends; fills up all
the clefts and fissures into which it can get admittance ;
and saturates all the interstices and pores of the earth,
stone, or other matter, all around the globe, quite up
to the level of the ocean.
The existence of an abyss or receptacle of subterra¬
neous waters, is controverted by Camerarius*; and * Dissert. I
defended by Hr Woodward chiefly by two arguments : Taur.Acteu
the first drawn from the vast quantity of water which Rrud. supp* j
covered the earth, in the time of the deluge ; the se-^ 2^V1’
cond, from the consideration of earthquakes, which he
endeavours to show are occasioned by the violence of
the waters in this abyss. A great part of the terrestrial
globe has been frequently shaken at the same mo-| jj-st - ?
ment; which argues, according to him, that the w'a- tlie Earth. 1
ters, which were the occasion thereof, were coextended Journal ds
with that part of the globe. There are even instances S^avans,^
of universal earthquakes; which (says he) show, that*0™ ^VI11'
the whole abyss must have'been agitated ; for so gene- Memoirg 0f j
ral an effect must have been produced by as general a Literature, \
cause, and that cause caw be nothing but the subterra-tom- vbi.
neous abyss +. * Holi0_ j
To this abyss also has been attributed the origin jn_
springs and rivers; the level maintained in the sur-
faces of different seas ; and their not overflowing their IVood-
banks. To the effluvia emitted from it, some even
attribute all the diversities of weather and change in '
our atmosphere J. Ray )|, and other authors, ancient Acta Enid.
as well as modern, suppose a communication between 1727,
the Caspian sea and the ocean by means of a subterra-P- 3I3-.
nean abyss; and to this they attribute it that the Cas-^^SJC®“ j
pian does not overflow, notwithstanding the gieat num-D;sc>j; c<Jt
her of large rivers it receives, of which Kempfer rec-p. 76,
kons
A B Y [ 49 ] A B Y
Abyss, tons above 45 in the compass of 60 miles $ though
y—■■ 1 others suppose that the daily evaporation may suffice to
keep the level.
The different arguments concerning this subject may
be seen collected and amplified in “ Cockburn’s Inquiry
into the Truth and Certainty of the Mosaic Deluge,”
p. 271, &c. If we believe any thing like elective at¬
traction to have prevailed in the formation of the earth,
it seems absurd to suppose that the heavier and denser
bodies gave place to the more light and fluid ; that the
central part should consist of water only, and the more
superficial part of a crust or shell. See Deluge.
Abyss is also used to denote hell $ in which sense
the word is synonymous with what is otherwise called
Barat/ir™, Erebus, and Tartarus; iu the English Abvsg.
-Bible, the bottomless pit. The unclean spirits expelled
by Christ, begged, ue imperaret ut in a by.s sum irent,
according to the vulgate 5 uj «/3t;sv«y, according to the
Greek, Luke viii. 31. Rev. ix. 1.
Abyss is more particularly used, in antiquity, to de¬
note the temple of Proserpine j so called on account of
its riches.
Abyss is also used in Heraldry tn denote the centre
of an escutcheon. In which sense a thing is said to be
borne in abyss, en abysme, when placed in the middle
of the shield, clear from any other bearing : He bears
azure, a flower de lis, in abyss.
ABYSSINIA.
■Biffercnt
names.
Abyssinia. A BYSSINIA, Abassia, or Upper Ethiopia, in
Lr ,, j J. a. Geography, an empire of Africa within the torrid
zone, which is comprehended between the 7th and 16th
degrees N. Lat. and the 30th and 40th degrees of E.
Long. By some writers of antiquity the title of Ethio¬
pians was given to all nations whose complexion was
black ; hence we find the Arabians, as well as many
other Asiatics, sometimes falling under this denomina¬
tion ; besides a number of Africans whose country lay
at a distance from Ethiopia properly so called. Thus
the Africans in general were divided into the western
or Hesperian Ethiopians, and those above Egypt situat¬
ed to the east $ the latter being much more generally
known than the former, by reason of the commerce
they carried on with the Egyptians.
From this account we may easily understand why
there should be such a seeming disagreement among
ancient authors concerning the situation of the empire
of Ethiopia, and likewise why it should pass under such
a variety of names. Sometimes, for example, it was
named India, and the inhabitants Indians ; an appel¬
lation likewise applied to many other distant nations.
It was also denominated and Ethria, and in
the most remote periods of antiquity Cephenia; but
more usually Abasene, a word somewhat resembling
Abassia or Abyssinia, its modern names. On the other
hand, we find Persia, Chaldsea, Assyria, &c. styled
Ethiopia by some writers : and all the countries extend¬
ing along the coasts of the Red sea w'ere promiscuously
denominated India and Ethiopia. By the Jews the
empire of Ethiopia was styled Cush and Lit dim.
Notwithstanding this diversity of appellations, and
vast diffusion of territory ascribed to the Ethiopians,
there was one country to which the title was thought
more properly to belong than to any of the rest j and
Situation ofw^*ch was therefore called Ethiopia Propria. Tim
Ethiopia was bounded on the north by Egypt, extending all the
way to the lesser cataract of the Nile, and an island
named Elephantine ; on the west it had Libya Inte¬
rior ; on the east the Red sea, and on the south unknown
parts of Africa j though these boundaries cannot be fix¬
ed with any kind of precision.
In this country the ancients distinguished a great va¬
riety of different nations, to whom they gave names ei¬
ther from some personal circumstance, or from their
Vol. I. Part I. f
Propria.
Different
nations ac-
eordiug to
the an¬
cients.
manner of living. The principal of these were, l.The Abyssinia.
Blemmyes, seated near the borders of Egypt 5 and who, * 1
probably from the shortness of their necks, were said
to have no heads, hut eyes, mouths, &c. in their breasts.
Their form must have been very extraordinary, if wTe
believe \ opiscus, who gives an account of some of the
captives of this nation brought to Rome. 2. The No-
Imtce, inhabiting the banks of the Nile near the island
Elephantine already mentioned, said to have been re¬
moved thither by Oasis to repress the incursions of the
lemmyes. 3. The Troglodytes, by some writers said
to belong to Egypt, and described as little superior to
brutes. 4. The Nubians, of whom little more is known
than their name.^ 5. The Pigmies, by some supposed
to ne a tribe of Troglodytes; but by others placed on
the African coast of the Red sea. 6. The Aualitce or
Abahtce, of whom we know nothing more than that
they were situated near the Abalitic gulf. 7. The
Struthiophagi, so called from their feeding upon os¬
triches, were situated to the south of the Memnones.
8. The Acridophagi; 9. Chelonophagi; 10. Ichthyo-
phagi; II. Cynamolgi; 12. Elephantophagi; 13. Rhi-
%ophagi; 14. Spermatophagi; 15. Hylophagi; and,
16. Ophiophagi: all of whom had their names from
the food they made use of, viz. locusts, tortoises, fish,
bitches milk, elephants, roots, fruits or seeds, and
serpents. 17. The Hylogones, neighbours to the Ele¬
phantophagi, and who were so savage that they had
no houses, nor any other places to sleep in but the
tops of trees. 18. The Pamphagi, who used almost
every thing indiscriminately for food. 19. The A^rio-
phagi, who lived on the flesh of wild beasts. 20.^The
Anthropophagi, or man-eaters, are now supposed to
have been the Caffres, and not any inhabitants of Pro¬
per Ethiopia. 21. The Hippophagi, or horse-eaters,
Avho lay to the northward of Libya Incognita. 22. The
Macrobii, a powerful nation, remarkable for their lon¬
gevity; some of them attaining the age of 120 years.
23. The Sambri, situated near the city of Tenupsis in
Nubia upon the Nile ; of whom it is reported that all
the quadrupeds they had, not excepting even the ele¬
phants, were destitute of ears. 24. The Asacha’, a
people inhabiting the mountainous parts, and conti¬
nually employed in hunting elephants. Besides these,
there were a number of other nations or tribes, of
iv hois
First settle¬
ment.
Peopled
originally
from Ara¬
bia.
whom we scarce know any thing but the names; as
the Gapachi, Ptoemphanes, Catadupi, Pechim, Cata-
drte, &c. . .
In a country inhabited by such a variety ot nations,
all in a state of extreme barbarism, it is rather to be
wondered that we have any history at all, than that it
is not more distinct. It has already been observed,
that the Jews, from the authority of the sacred writers
no doubt, bestowed the name of Cush upon the empire
of Ethiopia j and it is generally agreed that Cush was
the great progenitor of the inhabitants. In some pas¬
sages of Scripture, however, it would seem that. Cush
was an appellation bestowed upon the whole peninsula
of Arabia, or at least the greater part of it. In others,
the word seems to denominate the country watered
by the Araxes, the seat of the ancient Scythians or
Cushites j and sometimes the country adjacent to Egypt
on the coast of the lied sea. ^ #
A number of authors are of opinion, that Ethiopia
received its first inhabitants from the country lying to
the east of the Tied sea. According to them, the de¬
scendants of Cush, having settled in Arabia, gradually
migrated to the south-eastern extremity of that coun¬
try •, whence, by an easy passage across the straits of
Babelmandel, they transported themselves to the Afri¬
can side, and entered the country properly called F.thio-
pia : a migration which, according to Eusebius, took
place during the residence of the Israelites in Egypt j
but, in the opinion of Syncellus, after they had taken
possession of Canaan, and were governed by judges.
Abyssinian Mr Bruce makes mention of a tradition among the
tradition Abyssinians, which, they say, has existed among them
concerning frol^ tinie immemorial, that very soon after the flood,
Cush the grandson of Noah, with his family, passed
through Atbara, then without inhabitants, till they
came to the ridge of mountains which separates that
country from the high lands of Abyssinia. Here, still
terrified with the thoughts of the deluge, and appre¬
hensive of a return of the same calamity, they chose
to dwell in caves made in the sides ot those moun¬
tains, rather than trust themselves in the plains of At¬
bara ; and our author is of opinion, that the tropical
rains, which they could not fail to meet with in their
journey southward, and which would appear like the
return of the deluge, might induce them to take up
their habitations in these high places. Be this as it
will, he informs us that it is an undoubted fact, “ that
here the Cushites, with unparalleled industry, and with
instruments utterly unknown to us, formed to them¬
selves commodious, yet wonderful habitations in the
heart of mountains of granite and marble, which re¬
main entire in great numbers to this day, and promise
to do so till the consummation of all things.”
The Cushites having once established themselves
among these mountains, continued to form habitations
of the like kind in all the neighbouring ones ; and thus
following the different chains (for they never chose to
descend into the low’ country), spread the arts and
sciences, which they cultivated, quite across the Afri¬
can continent from the eastern to the western ocean.
According to the tradition above mentioned, they
built the city of Axum early in the days of Abraham.
Description This, though now an inconsiderable village, was an-
©f the city ciently noted for its superb structures, of which some
of Axum. remaias are stiff visible. Among these are some be-
3
ABYSSINIA. -
longing to a magnificent temple, originally rip feet Abyssinie,
in length, and having two wings on each side ; a ' v 1
Original
habitations
of the
thighites.
double porch } and an ascent of 12 steps. Behind this
stand several obelisks of different sizes, with the re¬
mains of several others which hare been destroyed by
the Turks. There is also a great square stone with an
inscription, but so much efi'aced that nothing can be
discovered excepting some Greek and Latin letters,
and the word Basilius. Mr Bruce mentions some
prodigious fragments of colossal statues ol the dog-
star” still to be seen at this place ; and “ Seir (adds
he), which, in the language of the Troglodytes, and
in that of the low country of Meroe, exactly corre¬
sponding to it, signifies a dog, instructs us in the rea¬
son why this province was called Sire, and the large
river which bounds it Siris.”
Soon after building the city of Axum, the Cushites
founded that of Meroe, the capital of a large island or
peninsula formed by the Nile, much mentioned by an¬
cient historians, and where, according to Herodotus,
they pursued the study of astronomy in very early ages
with great success. Mr Bruce gives two reasons for Meroe why
their building this city in the low country, after having founded,
built Axum in the mountainous part of Abyssinia.
1. They had discovered some inconveniencies in their
caves both in Sire and the country below it, arising
from the tropical rains in which they were now involv¬
ed, and which prevented them from making the celes¬
tial observations to which they were so much addicted.
2. It is probable that they built this city farther from
the mountains than they could have wished, in order to
avoid the fly with which the southern parts were infested.
This animal, according to Mr Bruce, who has given
a figure of it, is the most troublesome to quadrupeds Description
that can be imagined. He informs us, that; it infests
those places within the tropical rains where the soil is
black and loamy, and no other place whatever. It is
named zimb (by whom we are not informed), and has
not been described by any other naturalist. It is of a
size somewhat larger than a bee, thicker in proportion,
and having broader wings, placed separate like those
of a fly, and quite colourless, or without any spots.
The head is large, with a sharp upper jaw ; at the end
of which is a strong pointed hair about a quarter of an
inch long •, and the lower jaw has two of these hairs :
all of which together make a resistance to the finger
equal to that of a strong hog’s bristle. One or all of
these hairs are used as weapons of ofi'ence to the cattle ;
but what purpose they answer to the animal itself, our
author does not say. So intolerable, however, are its
attacks to the cattle, that they no sooner hear its buz¬
zing, than they forsake their food, and run about till
they fall down with fright, fatigue, and hunger. Even
the camel, though defended by a thick and strong skin
with long hair, cannot resist the punctures of this in¬
sect *, which seem to be poisonous, as they produce large
putrid swellings on the body, head, and legs, which at
last terminate in death. To avoid this dreadful enemy,
the cattle must all be removed as quick as possible to
the sandy parts of Atbara, where they stay as long as
the rains last, and where this dreadful enemy never
ventures to follow them. The elephant and rhinoceros,
who, on account of the quantity of food they require,
cannot remove to these barren places, roll themselves
in the mud, which when dry, coats them over so hard,
that
A B Y S
AT>yssinia., tliat they are enabled to resist the punctures of the iu-
u-—y—- sect j though even on these some tubercles are gene¬
rally to be met with, which our author attributes to
this cause. Mr Bruce is of opinion, that this is the fly
mentioned by Isaiah, chap. vii. 18. 19. “ And it shall
come to pass, that in that day the Lord shall hiss for
the fly that is in the uttermost part of the rivers of E-
gypt; and they shall come and shall rest all of them in
the desolate valleys, and in the holes of the rocks, and
upon all thorns, and upon all bushes.” ‘ That is (says
Mr Bruce), they shall cut off from the cattle their
usual retreat to the desert, by taking possession of these
places, and meeting them there, where ordinarily they
never come, and which therefore are the refuge of the
cattle.’
Meroe, which lay in N. Lat. 160, the exact limit of
the tropical rains, was without the bounds assigned by
nature to these destructive insects j and consequently a
place of refuge for the cattle. Mr Bruce, on his return
through the desert, saw at Gerri, in this latitude,ruins,
supposed to be those of Meroe, and caves in the moun¬
tains immediately above them j for he is of opinion,
that they did not abandon their caverns immediately
after they began to build cities. As a proof of this,
he mentions that Thebes, in Upper Egypt, was built
by a colony of Ethiopians j and that near the ruins of
that city, a vast number of caves are to be seen even
up to the top of a mountain in the neighbourhood : all
of which are inhabited at this day. By degrees, how¬
ever, they began to exchange these subterraneous ha¬
bitations for the cities they built above ground 5 and
thus became farmers, artificers, &c. though originally
their sole employment had been commerce.
Magnifi- On this subject Mr Bruce has given a very curious
cence of dissertation j though how far the application of it to the
Indians uui niay just> we cannot pretend to deter-
Egyptians. mine* begins with observing, that the magnifi¬
cence of the Indians and Egyptians has been celebrated
from the most remote antiquity, without any account
of the sources from whence all this wealth was derived :
and indeed it must be owned, that in all histories of
these people, there is a strange deficiency in this re¬
spect. The kings, we are to suppose, derived their
splendour and magnificence from their subjects5 but we
are quite at a loss to know whence their subjects had
it: and this seems the more strange, that in no period
of their history are they ever represented in a poor
or mean situation. Nor is this difficulty confined to
these nations alone. Palestine, a country producing
neither silver nor gold, is represented by the sacred
writers as abounding in the early ages with both those
metals in a much greater proportion than the most
powerful European states can boast of, notwithstanding
the vast supplies derived from the lately discovered con¬
tinent ot America. The Assyrian empire, in the time
of Semiramis, was so noted for its wealth, that M.
Montesquieu supposes it to have been obtained by the
conquest of some more ancient and richer nation ; the
spoils of which enriched the Assyrians, as those of the
latter afterwards did the Medes. This, however, Mr
Bruce very justly observes, will not remove the diffi¬
culty, because we are equally at a loss to know whence
the wealth was derived to that former nation j and it
is very unusual to find an empire or kingdom of any
extent enriched by conquest. The kingdom of Mace-
S I N I A. 5.
don, for instance, though Alexander the Great over- Abyssinia,
ran and plundered in a very short time the richest em- ~y——j
pire in the world, could never vie with the wealth of
Tyre and Sidon. These last were commercial cities ;
and our author justly considers commerce as the onlv
source from whence the wealth of a large kingdom ever
was or could be derived. The riches of Semiramis,
therefore, were accumulated by the East India trade
centering for some time in her capital. While this
was suffered to remain undisturbed, the empire flourish¬
ed : but by an absurd expedition against India itself,
in order to become mistress at once of all the wealth it
contained, she lost that which she really possessed ; and
her empire was soon after entirely ruined. To the
same source he attributes the riches of the ancient E-
gyptians j and is of opinion, that Sesostris opened up
to Egypt the commerce with India by sea ; though
other authors speak of that monarch in very different
terms. As the luxuries of India have somehow or
other become the objects of desire to every nation in
the world, this easily accounts for the wealth for which
Egypt has in all ages been so much celebrated, as well
as for that with which other countries abounded 5 while
they served as a medium for transmitting those luxuries
to other nations, and especially for the riches of those
which naturally produced the Indian commodities so
much sought after. This was the case particularly
with Arabia, some of the productions of which were
very much coveted by the western nations 5 and being,
besides, the medium of communication between the
East Indies and western nations, it is easy to see why
the Arabian merchants soon became possessed of im¬
mense wealth.
Besides the territories already mentioned, the Cushites
had extended themselves along the mountains which
run parallel to the Red sea on the African side j
which country, according to Mr Bruce, has “ in all
times been called Sabo, or Axabo, both which signify
South; an epithet given from its lying to the south¬
ward of the Arabian gulf, and which in ancient times
was one of the richest and most important countries in
the world. “ By that acquisition (says our author),
they enjoyed all the perfumes and aromatics in the
east; myrrh, and frankincense, and cassia ; all which
grow spontaneously in that stripe of ground from the
hay of Bilur west of Az.ab to Cape Gardafui, and
then southward up in the Indian ocean, to near the
coast of Melinda, where there is cinnamon, but of an
inferior kind.” As the Cushites dr Troglodytes ad¬
vanced still farther south, they met not only with moun¬
tains, in which they might excavate proper habitations,
but likewise with great quantities of gold and silver
furnished by the mines of Sofala, which, our author
says, furnished “ large quantities of both metals in
their pure and unmixed state, lying in globules with¬
out any alloy or any necessity of preparation or sepa¬
ration.” In other parts of his work, he labours to
prove Sofala to have been the Ophir mentioned in
Scripture.
Thus the Ethiopians, for some time after their set-"U1® Ethio-
tlement, according to Mr Bruce, must have been aP^”sat. .
nation of the first importance in the World. 'I]ized and '
northern colonies from Meroe to Thebes built cities, ]earned.
and made improvements in architecture j cultivated peopl«,
commerce, agriculture, and the arts 5 not forgetting
G 2 the
Their brethren farther to the
inhabited Ethiopia properly so
* 'Bruce'’s
Travels.
herds.
the science of astronomy, for which they had an ex¬
cellent opportunity by reason of the clearness of the
sky in the Thebaid.
south, or those who _ _
called, were confined for six months to their caves by
reason of the tropical rains, whence they were natural¬
ly led to pursuits of another kind. “ Letters *, at least
one kind of them, and arithmetical characters (we are
told), were invented by this middle part ol the Cushites ;
while trade and astronomy, the natural history ot the
winds and seasons, were what necessarily employed that
part of the colony established at Solala most to the
southward.”
Account of While the Cushites were thus employed at home in
the Ethic- collecting gold, gathering and preparing spice.?, &c.
Piaj S^ieP' these commodities were sent abroad into other coun¬
tries by another set of people, named Shepherds, who
acted as carriers to them, and who afterwards proved
so formidable to the Egyptians. These differed in
their appearance from the Ethiopians, having long
hair, and the features of Europeans ; and were ot a
very dark complexion, though not at all like the black-
moors or negroes. They lived in the plain country
in huts or moveable habitations, attending their cattle,
and wandering up and down as various circumstances
required. JBy acting as carriers to the Cushites, they
became a great and powerful people, possessing vast
numbers of cattle, as well as a very considerable ex¬
tent of territory. They possessed a stripe of land along
the Indian ocean $ and to the northward of that ano¬
ther along the Red sea : but their principal habita¬
tion was the flat part of Africa between the northern
tropic and the mountains of Abyssinia, which country
is now called Beju. This reaches from Masuah along
the sea-coast to Suakem *, then turns westward, and
continues in that direction, having the Nile on the
south, the tropic of Cancer on the north, with the
deserts of Selima and Libya on the west. The next
district belonging to these people was Meroe, now
called Athara, lying between the rivers Nile and Asta-
boras. A third district, now called Derkin, is a small
plain lying between the river Mareb on the east, and
Atbara on the west. But the most noble and warlike
of all the Shepherds were those who possessed the
mountains of Habab, reaching from the neighbourhood
of Masuah to Suakem : which district is still inhabited
by them.
These Shepherds, according to our author, were di¬
stinguished by several different appellations, which may
be supposed to denote difterent degrees of rank among
them. Those called simply Shepherds, our author sup¬
poses to have been the common sort who attended the
flocks. Another set were called Hycsos or Agsos, sig¬
nifying “ armed shepherds,” who are supposed to have
been the soldiers. A third were named Agag, supposed
to be the chiefs or nobles of these armed shepherds $
whence the title of king of kings, according to Mr
Bruce, is derived 5 and he supposes Agag killed by Sa¬
muel to have been an Arabian shepherd.
The building of Carthage augmented the power of
the Shepherds to a considerable degree, by reason of
the vast quantity of carriage naturally belonging to a
place of such extensive commerce, and which fell into
the hands of the Lehabim, Lubim, or Libyan pea¬
sants. An immense multitude of camels, in the early
ABYSSINIA.
ages, answered the purpose of navigation : and thus Abyssinia
we find that commerce was carried on by the Ishmael- ——y—^
ites as early as the days of Joseph, from the southern
extremity of the Arabian peninsula. These Shep-Reason of
herds, however, though generally the friends and allies the enmity
Different
clashes of
them.
of the Egyptians, who were also Cushites, sometimes
proved very bitter enemies to them, as is related in he®ds ^
the history of that country. The reason of this may Egyptians^
be deduced from the great opposition betwixt their
manners and customs. The Egyptians worshipped
black cattle, which the Shepherds killed and used as
food •, the latter worshipped the heavenly bodies, while
the Egyptians were the grossest idolaters, and worship¬
ped idols of all kinds that can be imagined. Hence
a mere difference in religion might occasion many
bloody quarrels j though, if the above account can be
depended upon as authentic, it is natural to imagine
that the mutual connection of interests should have ce¬
mented their friendship, whatever difi’erence there might
happen to be in opinions of any kind.
Besides the Cushites and Shepherds, however, we Origin of
must now seek for the origin of those different nations the differ-
which have already been mentioned. Mr Bruce allows c"t
that there are various nations inhabiting this country,
who are fairer than either the Cushites or the Shep¬
herds, and which, though they have each a particular
name, are all known by the general title of Habesk $
which may be translated by the Latin word convener,
signifying a number of distinct people meeting acciden¬
tally in one place $ and which our author maintains
against Scaliger, Ludolf, and a number of others, to be
a very just translation, and quite consonant to the hi¬
story of the country.
The most authentic ancient history of this country, First settle
according to Mr Bruce, is the chronicle of Axumjnwnt. of
the character of which, among the modern Abyssinians,
stands next to the sacred writings themselves*, a,id t0 tjje
consequently must be esteemed the highest Abyssinian byssiniau
authority we have on the subject. According to this history,
book, there was an interval of 5500 years between
the ci’eation of the world and the birth of Christj
1808 years before which last event the empire of A-
byssinia or Ethiopia received its first inhabitants.
Two hundred years after its settlement, it was so de-rpj^ ccmrtl>
stroyed by a flood that it received the name of Cure try laid
Midra, or a country laid waste ; “ or (says our author) waste by a
as it is called in Scripture, a land which the waters or^e*uSc*
floods had spoiledf (Isaiah xviii. 2.). The peopling
of the country was finished about 1400 years before
Christ, by the settlement of a great number of people,
speaking different languages, who sat down peaceably
in the high lands of Tigre, in the neighbourhood of
the Shepherds, with whom they were in friendship.
These people, according to tradition, came from Pa¬
lestine } and our author is inclined to believe the whole
of the relation to be true, as the time coincides with
the expulsion of the Canaanitish nations by Joshua,
which happened abput 1490 B. C. ten years before
which there had been, according to Pausanias, a flood
in Ethiopia which occasioned prodigious devastation.
Ethiopia, he thinks, would afl’ord the most ready asy¬
lum for the fugitive Canaanites, as they must have
long had a commercial intercourse with that country j
and he supports the opinion likewise from what Proco¬
pius mentions of two pillars extant in his time, on the
coast
A B Y S
^iyS9;niBt coast of Mauritania, with the following inscription in
w.the Phoenician language : “ We are Canaanitcs, flying
from the face of Joshua the sou of Nun, the robber.”
The authenticity of these inscriptions, however, is
much disputed, and therefore it cannot go a great
way in establishing any historical point. The first and
most considerable of the colonies above mentioned
settled in the province of Amhara ; the second in Da-
mot, one of the southern provinces ; the third in an¬
other province called Last a, or Tcherat%-Agow, from
Tckera their principal habitation j and a fourth in the
territory of Galat.
Our author goes on to prove, that the Ethiopians in
ancient times were not only the most learned people
in the world, but that they spoke the original lan¬
guage, and were the inventors of writing. In what
manner they came to degenerate from this character,
and into their present state of barbarity, cannot be
^ t _ known ; this being a phenomenon equally unaccount-
Etliiopia a|,je wjt[j tjle degeneracy of the Egyptians. Accord-
l)v Moses ,n§ *° some authors, the Ethiopians wrere conquered
by Moses ; of which transaction we have the follow¬
ing account. Before the time of that legislator, the
Ethiopians possessed the country of Thebais in Egypt:
but, not content with this, they made an irruption
into Lower Egypt, and penetrated as far as Mem¬
phis ; where, having defeated the Egyptians, they
threatened the kingdom with total destruction. The
Egyptians, by the advice of their oracles, put Moses at
the head of their forces 5 who immediately prepared for
invading the enemy’s country. The Ethiopians ima¬
gined that he would march along the banks of the
Nile $ but Moses chose rather to pass through some of
the interior countries, though greatly infested with ser¬
pents, and where consequently his march must be at¬
tended with much danger. To preserve his men, he
constructed a number of chests or panniers of the
Egyptian reed papyrus, which he filled with the birds
named Ibis, celebrated for their antipathy to serpents.
As soon as he approached the tract abounding with
these reptiles, a sufficient number of the birds were
let out, who presently cleared the way for the army
by destroying the serpents. Thus the Ethiopians
were surprised in their own country, where they had
dreaded no invasion; their forces, being defeated in
the field, were at last shut up in the capital Meroe, a
city almost impregnable, by being surrounded with
three rivers, the Nile, Astapus, and Astaboras. The
daughter of the Ethiopian monarch, however, having
an opportunity of seeing Moses from the walls, fell in
love with him, and ofi’ered to deliver up the city, pro¬
vided he would swear to marry her. With this re¬
quisition the Jewish legislator complied j but treated
the inhabitants with great severity, plundering the
city, and putting many of the inhabitants to death.
After this he ravaged the whole country, dismantling
all the places of strength 5 and having thus rendered the
Ethiopians incapable of attempting any thing against
other nations for a considerable time, he returned in
triumph to Egypt, after an absence of ten years.
From the time of Moses to that of Solomon, there
is a chasm in the Ethiopic history. After this, how¬
ever, we are furnished with some kind of regular ac¬
counts. The history commences with the queen of
S I N I A. n 53
Sheba, who came to visit the Jewish monarch, and Abyssinia,
whom the Ahyssinians suppose to have been sovereign
of Ethiopia Propria ; but Mr Bruce is of opinion that of tIle
she was only sovereign of that territory on the eastern
coast of Afx’ica named Saba, which he says ought to ^
be her title instead of Sheba. In favour of this opi¬
nion, he likewise urges that it was customary for the
Sabeans, or inhabitants of the African district named
Saba, to be governed by women ; whereas those who
inhabited the opposite side of the Arabian gulf, and
who were named Sabaan Arabs or Homerites, were not
only governed by kings, but would not allow their
sovereigns to go abroad anywhere under pain of being
stoned to death. The Abyssinians, as has been already
hinted, claimed her for their sovereign ; and he informs
us, that having received an account from Tamerin an E-
thiopian merchant, of the surprising wisdom and wealth
ot Solomon, she undertook the journey mentioned in
Scripture, to ascertain the truth of the report. In
this she was attended by a great many of her nobility,
carrying along with her also magnificent presents for
the monarch she intended to visit. According to the
Abyssinian historians, she was a Pagan at the time this
journey was undertaken ; but being struck with ad¬
miration at the sight of Solomon’s grandeur, and the
wisdom he displayed, she became a convert to the true
religion. Another part of her history, by no means
inconsistent with the character of Solomon, is, that she'
returned in a state of pregnancy; and within a year
was delivered of a son, named David by Solomon ; but
by bis mother Menilek, Mcneleeh, or Meneleheck; that is,
another self. When he grew up he was sent to be edu¬
cated at the court of his father Solomon ; where having
staid some time, lie was accompanied home by many
doctors ol the law, and other Israelites of distinction,
particularly Azariah the son of Zadoc the high-priest.
By these the Jewish religion was established in Abyssinia,
where it continued till the introduction of Christianity.
The princess we speak of is named Makeda, Balkes, or
Bulkis, by the Abyssinians. By our Saviour, and in the
Ethiopic version of the Scripture, she is styled The Queen
of the South, and is said to have come from the uttermost
parts of the earth, or of the habitable world. Hence
the compilers of the Universal History have inferred,
that the princess styled The Queen of Sheba in Scrip¬
ture was really sovereign of Ethiopia. “ Ethiopia (say
they) is more to the south of Judaea than the territory
or kingdom of Saba in Arabia Felix ; consequently
has a better claim than that country for the dominions
of the princess whom our Saviour calls The Queen of the
South. Ethiopia is styled the remotest part of the ha¬
bitable world by Herodotus and Strabo ; and therefore
better agrees with what our Saviour has said of the
queen of Sheba, that she came from ‘ tiie uttermost
parts of the earth,’ than Arabia. Nor can it be deem¬
ed a sufficient reply to this argument, that Arabia
Felix was the uttermost part of the earth in respect to
Judaea, since it was bounded by the Red sea : for that
not only Egypt, but even Ethiopia, regions beyond
that sea, were known to and had a communication
with the Jews, both before and in our Saviour’s time,
is indisputably clear. Lastly, From what has been
suggested, it appears no improbable conjecture, that
Judaism was not only known, at least in a part of
Ethiopia^,
3
ABYSS
Ethiopia, but nearly related to the established religion
there, at the beginning of the apostolic age, if not
much earlier. After all, these two opinions, so con¬
trary in appearance, may he made consistent without
great difficulty ; since it is agreed, that Arabia and
Ethiopia have anciently borne the same name, been
included during certain intervals in one empire, and
governed by one prince. Part of the Arabs and
Ethiopians had the same origin, and very consider¬
able numbers of the Abaseni transported themselves
from Arabia Felix into Ethiopia ; a circumstance
which sufficiently proves the intercourse that formerly
subsisted between the Cushites or Ethiopians of Asia
and Africa.
The Abyssinian historians farther inform us, that the
young prince Menilek was anointed and crowned king
in the temple of Jerusalem, before he returned to his
own country ; that Azariah was constituted high-priest;
that he brought with him a Hebrew transcript of the
law and though this book is now lost, having been
burnt along with the church of Axum, the office is still
continued in the line of Azariah, whose successors are
styled Nebrits, high priests, or keepers of the church in
that city 5 both church and state being modelled ex¬
actly after that of Jerusalem. Makeda continued to
enjoy the sovereignty for 40 years j and the last act of
her reign was to settle the succession to the throne.
By this act the crown was declared hereditary in the
family of Solomon for ever ; it was also determined,
that after her no woman should be entitled to wear the
crown or act as sovereign of the country $ but that
the sovereignty should descend to the most distant heirs
male, rather than to the females, however near; which
two articles were to be considered as fundamental laws
of the empire, not to be abolished. Jjastly, Ehat the
male heirs of the royal family should always be sent
prisoners to a high mountain, where they w'ere to be
confined till they should be called to the throne, or as
long as they lived. This custom, according to Mr Bruce,
was peculiar to Abyssinia; the neighbouring Shepherds
being accustomed to have women for their sovereigns,
which prevailed in the last century, and perhaps does
so at present.
Makeda having established these laws in such a man¬
ner as not to be revocable, died in the year 986 B. C.
The transactions of her son Menilek after his accession
are not pointed out, farther than that he removed his
capital to Tigre. His reign can by no means be ac¬
counted prosperous ; since in his time the empire was
invaded by Shishak or Sesak the king of Egypt, who
plundered the temple of Jerusalem under Rehohoam.
Ethiopia The like fate attended a rich temple which had been
conquered ^u-jt at gaj3a ^|ie capJtal of the Ethiopian empire, and
by Sbisiia 'which might very probably occasion the removal of the
imperial seat to Tigre, as already mentioned. It is
indeed pretty plain from Scripture, that Ethiopia, or
great part of it, was subject to this monarch ; as the
Ethiopians or Cushites, mentioned in his army which
invaded Judea, are joined with the Lubim or Liby¬
ans, and must therefore be accounted inhabitants of
Ethiopia Proper. This is indeed no small confirma¬
tion of the opinion of Sir Isaac Newton, who agrees
with Josephus ia supposing Shishak to have been the
celebrated Sesostris of profane historians. Thus far
we are certain, that in the passage of Scripture just
I N I A.
now alluded to, the sacred historian indirectly ascribes Abyssinia,
the sovereignty of Ethiopia to Shishak ; and we do ~v—-1
not find it anywhere hinted that another Egyptian
monarch was possessed of this sovereignty. Herodotus
also plainly tells us, that Sesostris was master of Ethi¬
opia, and that no other Egyptian but himself ever
possessed that empire.
During the reign of Shishak, we know no parti-Revolu-
culars concerning the Ethiopians; but after his death,tions after
Sir Isaac Newton is of opinion, that they defended ^
Egypt against the Libyans, who had taken an oppor¬
tunity of invading the country during the civil war
which took place on the death of that great conqueror.
In about ten years afterwards, however, according to
the same author, they became aggressors ; drowned the
successor of Shishak in the Nile, and seized on the
whole kingdom ; at which time Libya also fell into their
hands. In the time of Asa king of Judah, we find the
combined host of the Ethiopians and Lubim or Li¬
byans, making an attack on the territories of that
prince, to the number of more than a million. This Defeat of
may be reckoned a considerable confirmation of the Ze>'ah by
piece of history just mentioned; as it is not easy to *
conceive how the two should combine in such a man¬
ner, unless Zerah was master of both.. The total over¬
throw which the allied army received from Asa, gave
the inhabitants of Lower Egypt an opportunity of re¬
volting; who being sustained by an army of 20,000
auxiliaries from Phoenicia and Palestine, obliged Mem-
non, supposed to be the same with Amenophis, to re¬
tire to Memphis. Soon after this he w’as forced to
leave Egypt altogether, and to retire into Ethiopia ;
hut in about 13 years he returned with his son Ra-
masses at the head of a powerful army, and obliged the
Canaanitish forces to retire out of Lower Egypt; a
transaction denominated by the Egyptian writers the
second expulsion of the Shepherds.
Sir Isaac Newton is of opinion, that the Egyptian Of Menes
princes Menes, Memnon, and Amenophis, were thean^ l**5 suc
same person ; and that by him Memphis was eitherCCSa0ls'
originally built or first fortified, in order to prevent
the Egyptians from entering Ethiopia. He is also
supposed to have been the son of Zerah, and to have
died at a very advanced age about 90 years after the
decease of Solomon. Thus, according to Sir Isaac
Newton’s chronology, the most remarkable transac¬
tions of antiquity will be brought lower by ages than
by the usually received computations. According to
this, the Argonautic expedition happened in the time
ef Amenophis; though some Greek writers inform us,
that the same prince assisted Priam king of Troy with
a body of forces. He was succeeded by Ramasses, al¬
ready mentioned, who built the northern portico of the
temple of Vulcan at Memphis. The next was Moeris ;
who adorned Memphis, and made it the capital of his
empire, about two generations after the Trojan war.
Cheops, Caphrenus, and Mycerinus, succeeded in order
to Moeris ; the last being succeeded by his sister Ni-
tocris. In (he reign of Asychis her successor, both
Ethiopia and Assyria revolted from Egypt; which,
being now divided into several small kingdoms, was
quickly subdued by Sabacon or So, the emperor of
Ethiopia. This monarch, soon after bis accession to
the throne of Egypt, allied himself with Hoshea king
of Israel; by which means the latter was induced to
revolt
A B Y S S I
ivnache-
i defeat*
by Se¬
ll iopi a
rhvssiuia. revolt from the Assyrian* ; and in consequence of this,
—v—; an end was put to the kingdom of Israel by Shalma¬
neser king of Assyria, in the 24th year of the era of
Nabonassar, and 720th before the commencement of
the Christian era. According to Herodotus, this mo¬
narch voluntarily resigned the crown of Egypt after he
had enjoyed it 50 years ; but Africanus relates, that
after a reign of eight years, he died in Egypt, in the
ninth year of Hezekiah king of Judah. His successor
Sethon, supposed to be the Sevechus of Manetho, ad¬
vanced to Pelusium with a powerful army against Sen¬
nacherib king of Assyria j when the bowstrings of the
Assyrians were gnawed in pieces by a great number of
rats and mice, and thus they were easily defeated with
great slaughter bv the Egyptians. Hence Herodotus
informs us, that the statue of Sethon which he saw in
Egypt had a mouse in its hand. Sir Isaac Newton,
however, explains the whole in an allegorical manner.
As the mouse among the Egyptians was a symbol of
destruction, he conjectures, that the Assyrians were on
this occasion overthrown with great slaughter ; and
that Sethon, in conjunction with Terhakah, either king
of the Arabian Cushites, or a relation of Sethon, and
his viceroy in Ethiopia Proper, surprised and defeated
Sennacherib betwixt Libnah and Pelusium, making
as great slaughter among his troops as if their shield-
straps and bowstrings had been destroyed by mice.
In the 78th year of the era of Nabonassar, the em-
idued by pile of Ethiopia was subdued by Esarhaddon king of
ailiad- Assyria ; who held it three years, committing enor-
n* mous cruelties both in that country and in Egypt.
After his death the Ethiopians shook off the yoke, and
maintained their independency till the time of Cyrus
the Great, the first king of Persia 5 who, according to
the Greek historian Xenophon, seems to have also been
isuccess- sovereign of Ethiopia. After his death they revolted,
expedi- and his son Cambyses unsuccessfully attempted to re-
111 duce them. Herodotus informs us, that before he un-
ajnsjJjsdertook this expedition, he sent some of the Ichthyo-
untrv. phagi ambassadors to the king of the Maerohii or long-
lived Ethiopians, under pretence of soliciting his friend¬
ship, but in reality to observe the strength of the coun¬
try. Of this the Ethiopian prince was aware, and told
the ambassadors that he knew their design, reproached
Cambyses with his injustice and ambition, and gave
them his bow j telling them at the same time, that the
Persians might think of invading Ethiopia when they
could easily bend it; and in the mean time, that their
master ought to thank the gods who had never in¬
spired the Ethiopians with a desire of extending their
territories by conquest. Camhyses had sent byr the
ambassadors a rich purple robe, gold bracelets, a box
of precious ointment, a vessel full of palm wine, and
other things, which he imagined would be acceptable
to the Ethiopian monarch. But all these, excepting
the wine, were despised. This, he owned, was superior
to sany liquor produced in Ethiopia ; and he did not
scruple to intimate, that the Persians, short-lived as
they were, owed most of their days to the use of this
excellent liquor. Being informed by the ambassadors
that a considerable part of the food made use of by
the Persians was bread, he said that it was no wonder
to find people who lived on dung unable to attain the
longevity of the Macrobian Ethiopians. In short, the
N 1 A- . 55
whole of his answer was so contemptuous and disgust- Abyssinia,
ing, that Cambyses was filled with the greatest indig- —-'/—J
nation ; in consequence of which, he instantly began
his march without taking time to make the necessary
preparations, or even to procure provisions of any kind
lor his army. Thus a famine ensued among them j
which at last became so grievous, that the soldiers were
obliged to eat one another: and Cambyses himself,
finding his life in great danger, was obliged to give
orders for marching back again j which was not ac¬
complished without the loss of a great number of men.
Another army which he sent on an expedition against
Ammonia, in order to destroy the celebrated oracle of
Jupiter Ammon, perished entirely in the deserts, being
overwhelmed with the vast clouds of sand frequently
raised there by the wind.
At this time, it is doubtful whether Cambyses would Ethiopia at
have accomplished his purpose even if he had found t*me a
Till!
, powerful
’ empire.
practicable to march into the heart of Ethiopia,
empire had hut a short time before received a very
considerable accession of strength by the desertion of
240,000 Egyptians who had been posted by Psamme-
uitus in different places on the frontiers. These not
having been relieved for three years, had gone over at
once to the emperor of Ethiopia, who placed them in
a country disaffected to him ; ordering them to expel
the inhabitants, and take possession of their lands. Not- Ethiopia
withstanding this, however, Sir Isaac Newton hints, sl|PPosed by
that Camhyses conquered Ethiopia, about the 223d or^E ^aact
224th year of the era of Nabonassar ; but his opinion
in this respect does not appear to be well founded, conquered
We are told, indeed, that the Persian monarch, not-hy Camby-
withstanding the misfortunes he met with in the expe-ses*
dition above mentioned, did really make himself ma¬
ster of some of the Ethiopic provinces which bordered
on Egypt } and that these, together with the Troglo¬
dytes, sent him an annual present of two choenixes of
unrefined gold, 200 bundles of ebony, five Ethiopian
hoys, and 20 elephants teeth of the largest size : hut
it appears improbable to the last degree, that even
though Cambyses had employed the whole of his reign
in the attempt, he could have conquered the vast re¬
gions of Ethiopia Proper, Sennaar, and Abassia, which
were all included in the Ethiopia of the ancients.
When Xerxes invaded Greece, we find his array, Ethiopians
according to Herodotus, was partly composed of Etbi-emP*oyed
opians, of whom Herodotus mentions two distinct races ^ XclxeSi’
of people. One of these inhabited the Asiatic coast,
and differed from the Indians only in their hair and
language. Their arms w?ere the same with those of
India •, they wore helmets made of the skins of horses,
the ears and manes of which served them for tufts and
plumes of feathers $ their shields being made of the
skins of cranes. The hair of the Asiatic Ethiopians
was long, but that of the western tribes was frizzled.
The latter were also differently armed, having darts
lighted at one end and covered with leather. We are
not informed particularly from what nations these
troops were brought, nor whether they were natural
subjects of the king of Persia, or only auxiliaries: of
consequence we can conclude nothing certain concern¬
ing the dominion of the Persian monarchs at this time
over Ethiopia, further than that they might possess
some of the provinces next to Esypt j while the main
5^
Abyssinia.
Ethiopia
body of the empire being in a state of independence,
and unconnected with other parts of the world, is not
taken notice of by the historians of those times.
Though Alexander the Great had a desire to know
the sources of the Nile, he did not suffer himself to he
diverted by this curiosity from pursuing his grand ex¬
pedition into Persia. Ptolemy Euergetes, however,
conquered appear8 to have carried this curiosity to such an extre-
Euergetes.* mity as to invade Ethiopia for no other purpose. It
is surprising that the particulars of this expedition are
not recorded by any historian, as it appears by an in¬
scription that he penetrated to the farthest parts of the
empire, and conquered the most powerful nations in it.
Of this we have the following account, which is looked
upon by the best historians to be authentic. It was
copied on the spot (being the western entrance to A-
dule, one of the cities of Ethiopia) by Cosmas Egypti-
us, or, as some call him, Cosmas Indicopleustes, in the
time of the emperor Justin I. by order of Elesbaan
king of the Axumites, and of which the following ac¬
count is given by the person who copied it. “ Here
(says he), facing the road to Axuma, stood a chair of
white marble, consisting of a square base, a small thin
column at each angle of this base, with a larger
wreathed one in the middle, a seat or throne upon
these, a back and two sides. Behind this chair there
•was a large stone three cubits high, which had sustain¬
ed considerable injury from time. This stone and
chair contained an inscription to the following pur¬
pose : ‘ Ptolemy Euergetes penetrated to the farthest
parts of Ethiopia. He subdued Gaza, Agame, Signe,
Ava, Tiamo or Tziamo, Gambela, Zingabene, An-
gabe, Tiama, Athagaos, Calaa, Semene, Lasine, Zaa,
Gabala, Atalino, Bega, the Tangaitse, A nine, Metine,
Sesea, Rauso, Solate, the territory of Rauso, and seve¬
ral other kingdoms. Among the nations he reduced,
were some inhabiting mountains always covered with
a deep snowj and others seated upon the ridges of hills,
from whence issued boiling steams, and craggy preci¬
pices, which therefore seemed inaccessible. Having
finally, after all these conquests, assembled his whole
army at Adule, he sacrificed to Mars, Neptune, and
Jupiter j for his great success, he dedicated this chair
or throne to Mars.”
Conquest From the time of this conqueror to that of the em-
ofEthiopia peror Augustus, we meet with nothing of any conse-
by the Ro- qUence relating to Ethiopia Proper. The Roman
forces having about this time been drawn out of E-
gypt, in order to invade Arabia, Candace queen of E-
thiopia, or perhaps rather of the island or peninsula of
Meroe, took the opportunity of their absence to make
an irruption, with a numerous army, into the province
ofThebais. At there was at that time no force to
oppose her, she met for some time with great success j
but hearing at last that Petronius, governor of Egypt,
was in full march to attack her, she retired into her
own dominions. Petronius pursued her as far as
Pselcha, where with 10,000 men he gained an easy
victory over 30,000 undisciplined Ethiopian savages,
armed only with poles, hatchets, and other clumsy or
insignificant weapons of a similar nature. This vic¬
tory was soon followed by the reduction of several
fortresses ; however, as the Roman soldiers were ex¬
cessively incommoded by the heat of the climate, Pe-
fronius, notwithstanding his success, was obliged at
ABYSSINIA.
last to retire. Boon after, Candace sent ambassadors Abyssinia.
to Augustus himself with such magnificent presents,
that the emperor is said to have been thereby induced
to grant ber a peace on her own terms. From this
time the Romans accounted themselves masters of
Ethiopia. Augustus was complimented on the great
glory he had acquired j and that he had, by reducing
a country till that time unknown even to the Romans,
finished the conquest of Africa. No material altera¬
tion, however, took place in the alfairs of Meroe, in
consequence of this conquest, whether real or pretend¬
ed. Pliny informs us that it had been governed by
queens, who bore the title of Candace, for several ge¬
nerations before that time; and so it continued to be
afterwards, as we learn from Scripture, where w'e are
informed that, in the reign of Tiberius, the sovereign
of Ethiopia wras still named Candace. Some indeed
are of opinion that the Candace mentioned in the Acts
of the Apostles was the same with her who had been
conquered by Augustus; but this seems by no means
probable, as the interval of time is by far too long to
be allowed for the reign of a single princess.
From an anecdote of the debauched emperor Helio-
gabalus who was accustomed to confine his favourites,
by way of diversion, with old Ethiopian women, we
may learn that some intercourse took place between
the two empires, and probably that the Ethiopians
owned some kind of subjection to the Romans. The
Blemmyes, a gang of monstrous banditti, who inhabit-Account of
ed the frontiers ol Thebais, were vanquished by the em- t*ie klem-
peror Probus : but, towards the close of the third cen-m^es*
tury, we find them again become so powerful, that in
conjunction with another nation called 'Nobat(ry who
inhabited the banks of the Nile near Upper Egypt,
they committed such depredations in the Roman ter¬
ritories, that Dioclesian was obliged to assign lands to
the latter, and to pay both of them a considerable sum
annually, to desist from their former practices. These
expedients did not answer the purpose ; the savages
continued their depredations till the time of the em¬
peror Justinian, who treated them with more severity,
and obliged them to remain at peace. We are told by
Procopius, that before the time of Dioclesian, the Ro¬
man territories extended so far into Ethiopia, that their
boundaries were not 23 days journey from the capital,
so that probably the whole empire had been in a state
of dependence on them.
From the time of this emperor to that of their con¬
version-to Christianity, we find nothing remarkable in
the history of the Ethiopians. Three hundred and
twenty seven years are counted from the time of our
Saviour to that of Abreha and Atzbeha, or from A-
bra and Asba, who enjoyed the kingdom when the
gospel was preached in Ethiopia by Frumentius. This Ethiopian
man was a kinsman and companion of a philosopher
named Meropius, a native of Tyre ; who having tra- anity by
veiled all over India, died on an island of the Red sea.Enamen-
After his death Frumentius, with another named 2E-llus*
desius, who had also been his companion, were brought
before the king of Ethiopia, to whom that island was
subject. He took them into his service ; making the
one his treasurer and the other his butler. On the
death of this prince, the queen conceived such a favour
for them, that she refused to allow them to depart out
of the kingdom 5 but committed the management of
her
ABYSSINIA.
The two
lungs re¬
fuse to ad¬
mit Ada-
aism.
Account of
Ahyssinia. Jier affairs entirely to Frumentius, tvho made use of
■' his influence to diffuse the Christian religion through¬
out the country, and at last was appointed bishop of
Axuma. It is said, however, that the court and prin¬
cipal people, if not the nation in general, relapsed into
idolatry, which continued to prevail till the year 521,
when they were again converted by their king Adad
or Aidog.
The two princes Abra and Asba, who reigned joint¬
ly in Ethiopia in the time ef Frumentius, lived in such
harmony together, that their friendship became almost
proverbial. After being converted to Christianity,
they adhered strictly to the orthodox doctrine, refusing
to admit an Arian bishop into their country. In the
time of the emperor Constantins, however, this heresy
was introduced, and greatly favoured by that monarch j
and an attempt was made to depose Frumeatius on ac¬
count of his refusal to embrace it.
The reign of these princes is remarkable for an ex¬
ilic ele*^ °f Arabia Felix, called by the Mohamme-
phanu ^an waters the war of the elephant, and which was
undertaken on the following occasion : The temple of
Mecca, situated nearly in the middle of the Arabian
peninsula, had been held in the greatest veneration for
near 1400 years ; probably from the notion entertain¬
ed by the people in the neighbourhood, that Adam
pitched bis tent on that spot. Here also was a black
stone supposed to possess extraordinary sanctity, as be¬
ing that on which Jacob laid his head when he had
the vision of angels. The most probable account of
the real origin of this temple, according to Mr Bruce,
is, that it was built by Sesostris, and that be himself
was worshipped there under the name of Osiris.
On account of the veneration in which this tower
and idol were held by the Arabians, Mr Bruce sup¬
poses that the thought was first suggested of making
it the emporium of the trade between India and Afri¬
ca 5 but Abra, in order to divert it into another chan-
uel, built a very large temple near the Indian ocean
in the country of the Homerites ; and, to encourage
the resort of people to this new temple, he bestowed
upon it all the privileges of the former which stood in
the city of Mecca. The tribe of Arabians named
Koreish, in whose country Mecca stood, being exceed¬
ingly alarmed at the thoughts of having their temple
deserted, entered the new one in the night, burned all
that could be consumed, and besmeared the remains
with human excrements. Abra, provoked at this sa¬
crilege, assembled a considerable army, with which he
invested Mecca, himself appearing on a white elephant,
from whence the war took its name already mentioned.
Miraculous termination of the war, according to the Arabian
iestructien. historians, was miraculous. A vast number of birds
of the E- named Ababil came from the sea, having faces like
kiopian ar-]jons . c;irrying jn jtg cjaws a smau stone a()0Ut
the size of a pea, which they let fall upon the Ethio¬
pian army in such numbers,, that every one of them
was destroyed. At this time it is said that the small¬
pox first made its appearance j and the more probable
account of the destruction of the Ethiopian army is,
that they perished by this distemper.
The war of the elephant is supposed to have termi¬
nated in the manner above mentioned about the year
360; from which time to that of Elesbaan, named al¬
so Caleb, and probably the same with the Adad or A-
Vol. I. Part L f
First ap-
>earance
jf the
;»allpox.
57
dag already mentioned, we meet with nothing re- Abyssinia-
markable in the Ethiopic history. He engaged in a —v *
war with the Homerites or Sabaeans in Arabia Felix, ReGonTei--
whom he overthrew in battle, and put an end to their j!.011.l? .
kingdom j after which he embraced the Christian reli-^'^.j-j^
gion in token of gratitude for the success he had metbaan.
with. In the time of this prince a violent persecution Christians
of the Christians took place in Ai-abia. The Jewish ?er&ec“t.e(1
religion had now spread itself far into that peninsula Aia la*
and in many places the professors of it were become
absolute masters of the country, insomuch that several
Jewish principalities had been erected, the sovereigns
ot which commenced a severe persecution against the
Christians. Among the rest, one Phineas distinguish- Cruelty of
ed himself by his cruelty, having prepared a great ^hineas a
number of furnaces or pits filled with fire, into whichJewlsl1
he threw those who refused to renounce Christianity.1>11UCC’
The Christians applied for relief to the emperor Justin j
but he being at that time engaged in a war with the
Persians, could not interfere ; however, in the year
522, he sent an embassy to Elesbaan, who was now
also a member of the Greek church, intreating him
to exert himself for the relief of the Christians of Ara¬
bia. On this the emperor commanded his general A-
breha, governor of the Arabian province Yemen, to
march to the assistance of Aretas, son to a prince of
the same name whom Phineas had burnt; while he
himself prepared to follow with a more considerable
force. But before the arrival of the Ethiopian mo-He is de-
narch, young Aretas had marched against Phineas, feated.
and entirely defeated him. In a short time afterwards
the emperor himself arrived, and gave Phineas a se¬
cond defeat 3 but notwithstanding these misfortunes, it
does not appear that either the principality of Phineas
or any of the other Jewish ones, was at this time over¬
turned, though it seems to be certain, that at the time
we speak of, the Ethiopians possessed part of the Ara¬
bian peninsula. According to the Arabian historians,
the war of the elephant, with the miraculous destruc¬
tion of the Ethiopian army, already mentioned, took
place in the reign of Elesbaan.
Some historians mention, that the Ethiopian mo-
narchs embraced the doctrines of Mahomet soon after
the impostor made his appearance j but this seems not
to be well-founded j though it is certain that the Na-
jashi or Ethiopian governor of Yemen embraced Ma¬
hometanism, and that he was related to the royal fa¬
mily. On this occasion, however, the Ethiopians lost
all the footing they once had in Arabia 3 the governors
being expelled by Mahomet and his successors. They
fled to the African side of the Red sea with numbers Ethiopiawt;
of their subjects, where they erected several small king-driven outT
doms, as Adel, Wypo, Hadea, Mara, and others, ot Arabia,
which still continue.
During the conquests of the caliphs, the Jews were
for some time everywhere driven out of their domi¬
nions, or oppressed to such a degree that tfiey volun¬
tarily left them. Ethiopia offered them an asylum : Number of
and in this country they became so powerful, that a Jews in e.
revolution in favour of Judaism seemed ready to take ‘u-
place. One family had always preserved an indepen-crease‘1*
dent sovereignty on a mountain called Samen, the
royal residence being on the top of a high rock 3 and
several other high and rugged mountains were used by
that people as natural fortresses. Becoming by de¬
ll grees
58
ABYSSINIA.
Abyssinia.
Royal fa¬
mily of E-
thiopia
massacred
by Judith.
The kin!
•scapes.
Judith
usurps the
throae.
A new re¬
solution.
Christians
persecuted
in Egypt
fiy to E-
thiopia.
Ealibala
undertakes
to diminish
the stream
*f the Nile
grees more and more powerful, Judith the daughter
of one of their kings formed a design of overturning
the Ethiopian government, and setting aside the family
of Solomon, who had hitherto continued to enjoy the
sovereignty. This design was facilitated by several cir¬
cumstances. The empire had been weakened by an
unsuccessful war, famine, and plague j the throne was
possessed by an infant •, and the absurd custom of con¬
fining the whole royal family on a rock named Dame,
gave her an opportunity ot cutting them all off at once
by surprising that place. Fortunately, however, the
king himself escaped the general catastrophe, and was
conveyed by some of the nobility of Amhara to the.
province of Xea or Shoa j by which means the line of
Solomon was preserved, and afterwards restored, though
not till after a very considerable interval.
Judith having by this massacre established her own
power, assumed the imperial dignity, though in direct
opposition to an established and fundamental law of
the empire already mentioned, that no woman should
enjoy the sovereign authority. The people, however,
seem to have submitted quietly to her government,
as she sat on the throne for 40 years, and afterwards
transmitted the sovereignty to her posterity j five of
Whom reigned successively in this country. We are
not furnished with any particulars concerning their
reigns ; farther than that, during them, the people were
greatly oppressed. By some means, of which historians
have not given any account, another revolution took
place ; and a new set of usurpers, related to the family
of Judith, hut not their direct lineal descendants, suc¬
ceeded to the throne. These were Christians, and go¬
verned with much greater lenity than the Jewish sove¬
reigns had done ; but still, being usurpers, none of their
transactions are recorded in the Abyssinian annals, ex¬
cepting those of Lalibala, who was accounted a saint.
He lived in the end of the 12th or beginning of the 13th
century, and proved a great prince. At that time
the Christians in Egypt were grievously persecuted by
the Saracens, who had a particular abhorrence at ma¬
sons, builders, and stone cutters j looking upon them
as the chief promoters of idolatry by the ornaments
they put upon their works. These were joyfully re¬
ceived by Lalibala j who, by affording them an asylum
in his dominions, soon collected a great number.
They were employed by him in hewing churches out
of the solid rock, after the example of the ancient
Troglodytic habitations} and many works of this
kind remain in the country to this day. He under¬
took, however, a still more difficult and arduous task j
no less than that of lessening the stream of the Nile,
and thus starving the whole kingdom of Egypt, now
in the hands of his enemies, and who persecuted those
of his religion. From the account given by Mr Bruce
of this project, it appears that there really is a possibili¬
ty in nature of accomplishing it; not indeed by turn¬
ing the course of the Nile itself, but by diverting that
of many of its branches, which are the means of con-
veying into it the water supplied by the tropical rains,
and by which it overflows its banks annually. We are
likewise assured by the same author, that Lalibala suc¬
ceeded in his enterprise so far as to divert the course
of two large rivers from the Nile, and that thev have
ever since flowed into the Indian ocean. He next pro¬
ceeded to carry a level towards a lake named ’Z^acvia,
into which many rivers, whose streams contribute to Abyssinia,
increase that of the Nile, empty themselves $ and had y-—-'
this been accomplished, there is no doubt that the loss
of so much water would have been very sensibly felt by
the Egyptians. According to most historians, this
enterprising monarch was prevented by death from put¬
ting his design in execution ; though Mr Bruce informs
us of a written account at Shoa, in which it was as¬
serted, that he was dissuaded from it by certain monks,
who told him, that by sending down such a quantity
of water to the eastern and dry parts of Africa, these
countries would soon become so fertile and populous
that they would rival the empire of Ethiopia, least
withdraw their allegiance from it entirely. I he re¬
mains of these works were seen by the Portuguese am¬
bassador in 1522.
All this time the princes of the line of Solomon
had been obliged to content themselves with tl,e s0* 0f s0i0m0Hi
vereignty of the province of Xoa or Shoa, without
making any attempt to regain their former dignity j
but they were unexpectedly restored without blood¬
shed or disturbance by Naacueto Laeb the grandson
of Lalibala. This prince, who was of a gentle and
pacific disposition, was persuaded by a monk named
Tecla Haimanout, much celebrated for his sanctity,
to resign the crown, to which, though he received it
from his father, he could not pretend any absolute
right. In consequence of the mediation of this monk,
therefore, it was agreed that Naacueto should give up
the empire to Icon Amlac the lineal descendant of So¬
lomon, who then possessed the sovereignty of Shoa. In
consequence of this a portion of lands should be irre¬
vocably and irredeemably assigned to him and his
heirs j and he should likewise be allowed some marks
of sovereignty as a testimony of his former grandeur.
In this treaty, however, the good monk did not for¬
get his own interest. He had founded a famous mo¬
nastery in Shoa, and was primate of the whole empire
under the title of Abuna. He now insisted that one
third of the kingdom should be absolutely ceded to
himself for the maintenance of his own dignity, and
the support of the clergy, convents, &.c. throughout
the country 5 he also insisted that no native Abyssi¬
nian should ever enjoy the same dignity with himself,
even though he should have been chosen and ordained
at Cairo, as was the custom with the Abyssinian pre¬
lates.
These extraordinary terms were complied with, and
Icon Amlac raised to the throne of Ethiopia. He did ^yssjniaa
not, however, remove the seat of government from the history,
province of Shoa ; but continued at Tegulat the capi¬
tal of that province during the whole of his lifetime,
which continued 15 years after his accession to the
throne. We are ignorant of the transactions of his
reign, as well as that of several of his successors j five
of whom ascended the throne in as many years. From
this quick succession Mr Bruce is of opinion, that a ci¬
vil war had taken place among the candidates for the
throne : but the Abyssinian annals make no mention
of this j neither have we any particular account of the
transactions of the empire till the time of Amda Sion,
who began to reign in 1312. He was the son of We-Reign of
deni Araad, the youngest brother of Icon Amlac, Anada Sio?
and succeeded to the throne on the death of his father.
He professed the Christian religion 3 but his practice
seems
A B Y S
Abyssinia, seems to have been very opposite to its precepts. He
J began his reign with living publicly with a concubine
He is ex- 0f bis father’s ; and quickly after committed incest with
ecmmum- ^wo sisters. On this he was first exhorted to re-
lacesu pentance, and then excommunicated, by Honorius, a
monk greatly celebrated for his sanctity, and who has
since been canonized. The prince, enraged at this
indignity, caused the saint to be severely whipped
through every street of his capital. That night the
town was by some unknown means set on fire and re¬
duced to ashes: the clergy persuaded the people, that
the blood of Honorius had turned to fire as it dropped
on the ground, and thus occasioned the catastrophe;
The monks hut the king suspecting that the monks themselves had
Vanished, been the incendiaries, banished or imprisoned them all,
so that their hopes of exciting an insurrection were dis¬
appointed 5 and being dispersed into those provinces
where the inhabitants were mostly Jews or Pagans,
they were now obliged to apply to what was certainly
more incumbent upon them, viz. the diffusion of the
knowledge of the gospel.
While the king was busied with the monks, one of
the factors, who had been entrusted with some of his
commercial interests, was assassinated by the Moors in
the province of Ifat", on which, without making the
.. least complaint or expostulation, he assembled his
tiofr against troops, and with seven horsemen (a) fell upon the
the Maho- nearest Mahometan settlements, massacring all be met
jnetans. without exception. Putting himself then at Hhe head
of bis army, he proceeded in the most rapid career of
desolation, laying waste the whole country with fire
and sword, and carrying off an immense booty.
For some time the Moors were so surprised, that
they did not think of making opposition ; but at last
they took up arms, and attempted to surprise the Abys¬
sinian monarch in his camp, hearing that he had sent
out most of his army in detachments. With this view
they approached the camp in the night time, expect¬
ing to have found the king and his few soldiers im¬
mersed in sleep. Unexpectedly, however, he had been
joined by a considerable part of his army, whom he
drew up in battle array to receive his enemies. An
engagement ensued, in which the king behaved with
great valour, killed the Moorish general with his own
hand, and gained a complete victory. He then com¬
manded such of his soldiers as could not find houses
ready built, to build huts for themselves, and a large
tract of land to be plowed and sown, as if he meant to
stay in the country of the enemy during the rainy sea¬
son. The Mahometans now perceiving that they were
in danger of being totally exterminated, willingly sub¬
mitted to the terms he pleased to impose upon them j
volt again, ^bile the monarch conciliated the affections of his peo¬
ple by dividing among them the vast plunder he had
acquired in this expedition.
The Moors no sooner found themselves freed from
any apprehensions of immediate danger, than they pre¬
pared for a new revolt. The king having intelligence
They at
tack his
camp in
the night
without
success.
They sub¬
mit, but
quickly re
S I N I A.
of their designs, secretly prepared to subdue them be¬
fore they could have time to bring their matters to a
sufficient hearing. The Moors, however, being better
prepared than he expected, began hostilities by sur¬
prising and plundering some villages belonging to the
Christians, and destroying their churches. A most
formidable combination had taken place ; and as the
consequence of allowing the confederate rebels to
join their forces might have been very dangerous, the
king used his utmost endeavours to prevent it. This
design was in some measure facilitated by the supersti¬
tion of Amano king of Hadea, one of the principal re¬
bels. This man, by the advice of a conjurer in whom a
he put great confidence, instead of marching his troops Hadea de-
to the assistance of his adies, x’emamed at home with feated and
them, where he was defeated and taken prisoner by ataken Pr*“
detachment of the king’s army. The governor of Am-soner'
hara was next despatched against Saber eddin the re¬
volted governor of Fatigar, with orders to lay waste
the country, and use every method to force him to a
battle, if he should be disinclined to venture it himself.
These orders were punctually executed j Saber-eddin Another
was compelled to stand an engagement, in which he reb chief
was defeated j the victors plundered bis house, and took^eleatcc**
his wife and children prisoners. But in the mean time
intelligence was received of a new revolt among the
Falasha, who had assembled a great army, and threat¬
ened to become very formidable; their chief keeping
a close correspondence with Saber-eddin, as well as
with the king of Adel. These, however, shared the
same fate with the rest, being entirely defeated byTheFala-
Tzaga Christos another Abyssinian general, who soon s,,a<*efeat'
after joined the king with his whole army. This proved ed'
fatal to the rebel cause : Saber-eddin, no longer able
to support himself against the royal forces, was obliged
to surrender at discretion, and all the rest were quickly
reduced ; so that the king was at leisure to march
against the kings of Adel and Mara, who having now ,
united their forces, resolved to give him battle. AtI|ja*c^Ienssa_
this the Abyssinian monarch was so exasperated, that gainst Adel,
he determined to take the most ample vengeance on his Mara, &c.
enemies. In the presence of his whole army, there¬
fore, and a monk of uncommon sanctity dressed in the
same habit in which he usually performed divine ser¬
vice, the king made a long speech against the Maho¬
metans. He recounted the many violences which they
had committed; and of which the kings of Adel and ^is speech
Mara had been principal promoters. He enumeratedant* ®atk h*
many examples of murder, sacrilege, &c. of which j.’-csei ce
they had been guilty ; setting forth also that they had
carried off great numbers of Christians into slavery,
and that the view of making slaves was now a great
motive with them for making war. He disclaimed
every idea of commencing hostilities from any avarici¬
ous motive ; as a proof of which, he denied that he
would accept of any part of the plunder for his own
use ; concluding with a declaration, that he was now
about to swear on the holy eucharist, that, “ though
H 2 but
(a) On this Mr Bruce remarks, that “ it has been imagined the number should be increased to 70; but
there would be little difference in the rashness of the action.” The word in the Abyssinian annals which he
translates is seven; but if we increase the number at all, it ought more probably to be seven hundred than,
seventy. ...
6o
ABYSS
Abyssinia, tut 20 of his army should join him, he would not
turn his back upon Adel or Mara, till he had either
forced them tribute and submission, or entirely ex¬
tirpated them and annihilated their religion.1’ After
this speech, he took the oath in the presence of the
whole army ; who not only applauded him with loud
shouts, but protested that they looked upon themselves
Enthusiasm to be all bound by the oath he had taken. As he had
of his mentioned in his speech that the plunder had been pur-
troops. c|jaSed by the lives of their Christian brethren, they
determined to show their abhorrence at keeping any
of it on these terms. Taking lighted torches in their
hands, therefore, they set fire to the whole plunder
that had been amassed since the beginning of the war j
and having thus reduced themselves to a state of po¬
verty, they prepared to show their Christianity by
thirsting, not after the wealth, but the blood of their
enemies.
Notwithstanding the enthusiasm of the whole army
on this occasion, the expedition was attended with
Excessive great difficulties. These arose principally from super-
supers titiongtition j and as, on the one hand, the Abyssinians were
of both par-Jjy principle laid under considerable disadvantages,
their adversaries on the other enjoyed equal advanta¬
ges from no better cause. The Abyssinians, according
io Mr Bruce, are very credulous with respect to genii
or spirits which go about doing mischief in the dark.
Hence they are afraid of travelling, but especially of
fighting, in the night-time ; because they imagine that
the world is then entirely given up to these beings, who
are put out of humour by the motions of men, or of
any other terrestrial creature. In the night-time there¬
fore an Abyssinian dares not even throw a little water
out of a bason, lest it should fall upon some spirit and
provoke it to vengeance. The Moors, on the other
hand, though equally fearful, secure themselves against
these invisible enemies by means no less ridiculous than
the fears themselves. A verse of the Koran, sewed up
in leather, and worn round their neck or arm, is suffi¬
cient to defy the power of the most mischievous spirit.
Under such powerful protection, therefore, they laugh
at the terrors of the Abyssinians, and are on all occa¬
sions ready to attack them in the night-time, and even
prefer that season rather than any other for coming to
an engagement. Sensible of this advantage, and en-
The king’s couraged by the little loss which attended even a de¬
troops ha- 'feat in these nocturnal encounters, they determined on
rassed. j]ie present occasion to avoid any pitched battles, and
to content themselves with harassing the king’s army
with continual skirmishes of this kind. Thus, though
the Ahjssinian monarch had always the advantage, his
troops soon began to complain; and, on the com¬
mencement of the rainy season, insisted on being allow¬
ed to return. This was by no means agreeable to a
prince of such a martial disposition as Amda Sion. He
therefore told them, that, if they were afraid of rains,
he would conduct them to a country where there were
none 5 meaning Adel, which, though likewise within
the limits of the tropical rains, has them at another
season than that in which they fall in Abyssinia. Thus
he persuaded his army again to set forward : hut was
so grievously harassed by the nocturnal attacks of the
Moors, that he was once more in danger of being de¬
serted } and when by his eloquence he had found
means to dissipate the apprehensions of the soldiers, he
I N I A.
was seized with a violent fever which threatened Ins Abysshri*.
life. The soldiers now expected that they were soon
to return ; but while they indulged themselves in the js
Carelessness which usually attends an expectation a
this kind, they accidentally received intelligence that dangerous
the Moors, having assembled an army of 40,000 men,tever.
were in full march to attack them, and at a very small
distance. The king was now free from fever, but so
weak that he fainted on attempting to put himself in
readiness for going out to battle. Still, however, his
resolution continued firm and unalterable j having re¬
covered from his faint, washt d and refreshed himself,
he made a speech to his soldiers, filled with the most
enthusiastic expressions ol confidence in the justice and
goodness of the cause in which he was engaged, and in
the continuance of the divine favour and protection.
“ As it never was my opinion (said he), that it was
my own strength and valour, or their want of it, which
has so often been the cause of preserving me from their
hands ; so I do not fear at present that my accidental
weakness will give them any advantage over me, as
long as I trust in God’s power as much as I have ever
done.” By this speech the drooping spirits of the A-
byssinians were revived 5 and they only begged that
their monarch would now trust to the valour of his
troops, and not expose his person to such danger as he
had usually done. He promised to comply with their
request j but matters were soon thrown into confusion His troops
by a report that the Moors had poisoned the wells and^sheaiten“
enchanted all the running water in the front of the ar¬
my. The poisoned wells, however, were easily avoid¬
ed ; and a priest of vast sanctity was dispatched a day’s
journey before the army to disenchant the waters by
his blessings j which, having the advantage of the good
qualities of the element itself on their side, were doubt¬
less more powerful than the spells of the infidels. Not
content with this, the king caused a river to be conse¬
crated by the name of Jordan ; but while his men were
employed in bathing themselves in this holy water, the
Fits-Auraris, an officer who had been dispatched with
a party of men who always go before the Abyssinian
armies, was attacked and driven back on the main bo¬
dy bv a detachment of the enemy, who had along with
them a number of women provided with drugs to poi¬
son and spells to enchant the waters. A dreadful pa-SlrucK
nic now seized the whole army. Unmindful of the with a ps*
promises made to their king, they not only refused tome, they
advance, hut for the most part resolved to leave therel“seto
camp, and return homewards without delay. XheeDi5age“
kinjj, sensible that all was lost it this pernicious scheme
should be adopted, did his utmost to encourage and
persuade them to return to their duty •, but perceiving
that nothing was to be gained by reasoning with men
so much terrified, he only requested that such as could
not be induced to fight, would not leave their places,
but stand quiet spectators of the battle. Even this jje begins
had very little effect: so that, finding the enemy now the fight
ready to make an attack, he ordered his master of the with & very
horse with only five others, to attack the left wing offevv attend^
the enemy ; while he, with a small party of his J!er-tUlts“
vants, made an attack on the right. I his desperate
action was attended with success. The king, notwith¬
standing the weakness he yet laboured under, killed
with his own hand two of the commanding officers of
the enemy’s right wing 3 while bis son dispatched ano-
■■■■■■
A BY S
Abyssinia, ther of consiueraOIe rank belonging lo the left. This
~~v1 had such an efi'ect upon the whole Moorish army, that
they began evidently to lose courage j while the Abys«
sinians, ashamed of their conduct, now rushed furiously
on to rescue their prince from danger. The battle
continued for some time with great obstinacy ; but at
last the centre and left wing of the Moors were entire-
The Moors Jy defeated. The right wing, composed principally of
defeated, Arabians, retired in a body ; but not knowing the
country, they entered a deep valley surrounded by per¬
pendicular rocks entirely covered with wood. 'I he A*
byssinians, imagining they had nothing more to do,
began to strip and mangle the bodies of the killed and
wounded ; but the king, perceiving that the Arabians
had brought themselves into a situation from whence
they never could be extricated, obliged his soldiers to
desist from this barbarous employment, and even killed
and almost two of them who disobeyed his orders. The army was
entirely cut then
divided into two parts, one of which surrounded
the devoted Arabians, while the other was sent a day’s
journey after the remainder of the Moors. Both par¬
ties proved equally successful. The king, with part of
his division, attacked the Arabians in front, while the
rest rolled great stones down from the tops of the rocks
upon them. By this they were thrown into such con¬
fusion, that being neither able to fly nor resist, they
were all killed to a man. The fate of the Moors was
little better. The other division of the Abyssinian
army found them lying round a large pool of water,
which they lapped like as many dogs. In this help¬
less situation there was nothing requisite but to order
them to be slaughtered ; and this cruel order was punc¬
tually executed. The soldiers imagining they should
now discharge their vow to heaven, wearied themselves
with slaughter ; till at last, being almost satiated with
blood, they made a few prisoners, among whom was
Saleh king of Mara, with his queen ; the former of
whom was hanged by order of Amda Sion, and the lat¬
ter eut in pieces, and her body given to the dogs by the
soldiers.
Amda Sioa This signal victory was gained in the end of July
puibues his • but as the rains at that season set in with vio-
® ’ lence, most of the army now again insisted on their re¬
turning home without delay. The king and principal
officers, however, were of opinion, that the advantages
so dearly purchased ought by all means to be pursued
till they had either reduced the Mahometans to subjec¬
tion, or at least deprived them of all power to make at¬
tacks on the empire with any prospect of success. This
opinion being adopted, the king sent back the bag¬
gage, women, and others who could be of no use to
the army j retaining only the veteran soldiers, who
were able to encounter more than six times the num¬
ber of such enemies as he could expect to meet with.
His further Advancing farther into the Mahometan territories, he
conquests. Up ^jg residence in a large town called Zeyla;
from whence he, that very night, sent out a detach¬
ment to surprise a large village in the neighbourhood
named Taraca. This was executed with success ; the
men were massacred, and the women kept to supply
the places of those who had been sent away. Conti¬
nuing still to advance, he detached parties to lay waste
the countries all round j and in this expedition he had
the good fortune to cut olf two of the principal authors
©f the conspiracy against him. He then proceeded to
S I N I A. 61
invade Talab and Abalge in the territories of the king Abyssinia,
of Adel. That monarch, now rendered desperate by 1——...<
the view of approaching ruin, had assembled all the Adel ir-
troops he could raise, in order to make one last effort
against the enemy j but conducted himself with much
less prudence than he ought to have done when con¬
tending with such an experienced and vigilant adver¬
sary. Amda Sion, confident of success, took no less
care how to prevent the enemy from escaping than how
to gain the victory. For this purpose he dispatched
parties of horse to lie in wait in all those avenues by
which he supposed that the Moors might attempt to
make their escape $ after which, falling furiously on
the Adelians himself, and being well supported by his
troops, he gained a complete victory j the king of Adel, The king
with great numbers of his men, being killed on the of Adel de¬
spot, and almost all the rest by the parties of horsefe^ted aud
whom the Abyssinian monarch had posted in ambush to kl led*
intercept them.
As the loss of this battle rendered the affairs of the
Adelians quite desperate, the three young princes, sons
of the late king, with their uncle, waited upon Amda
Sion with rich presents, which they laid at his feet
in the most humble manner, putting their foreheads The prince*
in the dust, and intreating his pardon 5 professing their -Adel
subjection and readiness to obey his commands, provid-su')im*"
ed that he would spare the remainder of their country
and property. To this the king made a very unfa¬
vourable reply, reproaching them with indignities done
to himself; but especially with the sacrilege they had
committed in burning churches and murdering priests,
destroying1 also defenceless people in villages, merely
because they imagined that he could not protect them.
To punish these and other crimes, he said, he was now
in the heart of their country j and he was determined
never to turn his back upon Adel while he had ten men
capable of drawing their swords 5 for which reason he
commanded them to return and expect the approach of
his army.
By this fierce speech the brother and two eldest
children of the king of Adel were so disheartened, that
they could not speak } but the youngest son made a
very spirited speech, in which he attempted to soften
the king by complimenting his valour, and showing
that it was unworthy of his character to push the war
against a people who were already conquered and de¬
fenceless. All the answer he could obtain, however, ^re nnf>a
was, that unless the queen with the rest of the royal vourably
family, and the principal people of the nation, would received.
come by to-morrow evening and surrender themselves
as the princes had done, he would lay waste the terri¬
tory of Adel, from the place w here he sat to the Indian
ocean. On this the princes earnestly requested their
mother to submit without reserve to the clemency cf
the Abyssinian monarch, and to wait upon him next
morning; but she was prevented from this by some of The war
the nobility who had formerly advised the war, and who continues,
justly suspected danger to themselves if they should be
obliged to submit unconditionally to the conqueror.
They resolved, therefore, once more to venture a battle ;
and the better to ensure success, they bound themselves
by an oath to stand by each other to the last extremity.
At the same time they dispatched messengers to the
princes, requesting them to make their escape with all
manner of expedition, and to head the army themselves;
aH
62
Abyssinia.
ABYSSINIA.
An obsti¬
nate battle.
?flie Moor
ish army
entirely.
cut off.
Dreadful
devasta¬
tions.
The royal
family not
confined
as former¬
ly.
Reign of
Saif Araad
®f Theodo
rus.
all of whom were determined to conquer or die as soon
as the royal family should be out of the enemy’s hands.
By this conduct, the Abyssinian monarch was so much
irritated, that he divided his army into three parts ; two
of which he commanded to enter the territory of the
enemy by different routes, and to exterminate both man
and beast wherever they came j while he himself, with
the third, took the straight road to the place where
the new Adelian army was encamped. Here he found
-a number of infantry drawn up and ready to engage
him $ but, besides these, there was a multitude of old
men, women, and even children, all armed with such
weapons as they could procure. Surprised at this
sight, he ordered a party of horse to disperse them ; but
this was found impossible 5 so that he was obliged to
call in the detachments he had sent out, with orders to
fall upon the enemy by the nearest way they could ad¬
vance. The engagement was for a long time very
doubtful j and in opposition to Amda Sion appeared
the young king of Wypo, who everywhere encoura¬
ged his troops, and made the most obstinate resistance.
The Abyssinian monarch having observed him, sheathed
his sword, and arming himself with a bow, chose the
broadest arrow he could find, and took so just an aim,
that he shot the young prince through the side of the
neck, and his head inclining to one shoulder he soon
fell down dead. On this the spirit of the Adelians en¬
tirely forsook them, and they betook themselves to
flight; but unluckily falling in with two Abyssinian
detachments coming to the king’s relief, they were so
completely destroyed, that only three of them are said
. to have made their escape. On the side of the Abys-
sinians, however, the victory was dearly purchased ;
many of the principal officers being killed, and scarcely
one of the cavalry escaping without a wound.
The remainder of this expedition consisted only in
the destruction and burning of towns and villages, and
massacres of helpless people, on pretence of retaliating
the injuries committed by the Mahometans against the
Christians. At last, weary of conquest and of carnage,
this victorious monarch, who never suffered a defeat in
any battle, returned in triumph to his capital, where
he ended his days after a reign of 30 years. In his
time we find that the royal family were not confined,
as had been the usual practice from the time of the
queen of Sheba to the massacre by Judith ; for Saif
Araad, the son and successor of Amda Sion, distinguish¬
ed himself in one of the battles in which his father was
engaged.
Though the new prince, as appears from what has
been just now observed, was by no means destitute of
military talents, the Abyssinian empire enjoyed a pro¬
found peace during his reign. The only remarkable
transaction was the relief given by him to the Coptic
patriarch, whom the sultan of Egypt had thrown into
prison. At this time a great trade was carried on
through the desert by caravans between Cairo and A-
byssinia, as well as from Cairo to Suakem on the Bed
sea ; but the Ethiopic monarch having seized the mer¬
chants from Cairo, and sent parties of horse to interrupt
the caravans in their passage, the sultan was soon con¬
tent to release the patriarch, whom he had imprisoned
only with a view to extort money.
In the reign of Theodoras, who held the crown of
Ethiopia from the year 1409 to 1412, we find an in-
3
fringement made on the treaty between Icon Amlac and Abyssinia,
the Abuna Tecla-Haimanout formerly mentioned. By v——y—
that treaty the Abuna was to have a full third of the
whole empire for the support of his own dignity and
that of the church : but Theodorus, justly considering
this as an unreasonable acquisition, reduced it very con¬
siderably, though he still allowed a very ample revenue
out of every province of the empire ; and even this has
been considered by several ot his successors as far too
large, and consequently has been frequently abridged
by them. The annals of this prince’s reign are very
defective, and Mr Bruce supposes that they have been
mutilated by the ecclesiastics ; which, considering what
we have just now related of his reducing their revenues,
is by no means improbable. By his subjects he was Is celebraf
considered as such a saint, that to this day the people a |
believe he is to rise again and to reign a thousand jears
in Abyssinia ; during which period war is to cease, and
happiness to be universally diflused.
From the time of Theodorus to that of Zara Jacob,
who began his rr ign in I434> ^ie -Abyssinian annals fur¬
nish us with little or nothing of any consequence. The Zara Jaco's
character of this prince is represented as by no means in-
ferior to that of Theodorus, or indeed of any monarch
that ever sat on the throne of Ethiopia, or any other
kingdom in the world. He is, in short, set forth as
another Solomon, and a model of what sovereigns
ought to be ; though, from some particulars of his
reign, his character should seem to be rather exag¬
gerated. The first remarkable transaction of this SetJ(js afl
great monarch was his sending an embassy to the cmijassy t#
council of Florence. The ambassadors were certain the eouncil
priests from Jerusalem, who in that assembly adhered of riorence.
to the opinions of the Greek church ; and the em¬
bassy itself was judged to be of such consequence as to
be the subject of a picture in the Vatican. This prince
obtained also a convent at Home from the pope for
the use of the Abyssinians ; which is still preserved,
though very seldom visited by those for whom it was
designed. He seems to have been very desirous of
keeping up a correspondence with the Europeans as
well as the Asiatics ; and in his time we first read of
a dispute in Abyssinia with the Frangi or Franks on
the subject of religion. This was carried on in pre-A parly for
sence of the king between one Abba George and a A e- the church
netian painter, Francisco de Branco Lone, in which of Rome,
the former confuted and even convinced his antago-foraied>
nist; but from this time we find a party formed for the.
church of Borne, and which probably took its rise from
the embassy to the council of Florence.
The prince of whom we now treat was the first who
introduced persecution on a religious account into his
dominions; and for this reason, most probably, be is
so highly commended by the ecclesiastics. The state Religious'
of religion in Abyssinia was now indeed very corrupt, persecutio*
The Greek profession had been originally established *nUoduee ‘
from the church of Alexandria ; but in the low pro¬
vinces bordering on the coast of Adel, the Mahome¬
tan superstition prevailed. Many of that persuasion
had also dispersed themselves through the towns and
villages in the internal parts of the empire, while in not
a few places the grossest idolatry still took place ; such
as the worship of the heavenly bodies, the wind, trees,
cows, serpents, &c. All this had hitherto passed un¬
noticed ; but in the reign of Zara Jacob, some fami¬
lies
ABYSSINIA.
Ahv.ssinia.
Lmda Sion
cruelin-
uisitor.
\Iurde» of
he king’s
on-in-law.
Persecu¬
tion sup¬
pressed.
Affairs of
he king-
lom regu-
ated.
jliurches
epaired.
fhe queen
mt to a
iruei death.
lies being accused of worshipping the cow and ser¬
pent, were brought before the king, who pronounced
sentence of death upon them. Their execution was
followed by a royal proclamation, that whoever did
not carry on his right hand an amulet with these
words upon it, “ I renounce the devil for Christ our
Lord,” should not only forfeit his personal estate, but
be liable to corporeal punishment. The spirit of per¬
secution thus begun, quickly diffused itself, and an in¬
quisitor was appointed to search for criminals. This
was one Amda Sion, the king’s chief confidant, who
pretended to all that absurd and austere devotion com¬
mon to religious hypocrites. In this he was flattered
with uncommon parade and attendance, the usual re¬
wards of people of that stamp j as he never appeared
abroad but with a great number of soldiers, trumpets,
drums, and other ensigns of military dignity waiting
upon him. He kept also a number of spies, who
brought him intelligence of those who were secretly
guilty of any idolatrous or treasonable practices ; after
which, proceeding with his attendants to the house of
the delinquent, he caused the family first supply him¬
self and his party with refreshments, and then ordered
the unhappy wretches to be all put to death in his pre¬
sence. Among those who suffered in this barbarous
manner were the two sons-in-law of the king himself,
who had been accused by their wives, the one of adul¬
tery, and the other of incest 5 on which slight ground
they were both put to death in their own houses, in
such a manner as deservedly threw an odium on the
king. His conduct was afterwards so severely condem¬
ned by a certain clergyman from Jerusalem, that a re¬
formation seems to have been produced ; and no men¬
tion is afterwards made of the inquisitor or persecution
during this reign.
The attention of the king was now called off from
religion to the state of his affairs in the different pro¬
vinces of the kingdom. As the Moorish provinces
were very rich, by reason of the extensive trade they
carried on, and frequently employed their wealth in ex¬
citing rebellion, it became necessary that the sovereign
himself should examine into the circumstances and dis¬
positions of the several governors j which was likewise
proper on another account, that he might assign to each
the sum to be paid. On this occasion he divided the
empire more distinctly, and increased the number of go¬
vernments considerably j which being done, he set about
repairing the churches throughout the country, which
had fallen into decay, or been destroyed in the war with
the Mahometans. So zealous was he in this respect,
that having heard of the destruction of tiie church of
the Virgin in Alexandria by fire, he instantly built an¬
other in Ethiopia, to repair the loss which Christianity
might have suffered.
The last public transaction of this prince’s reign was
the quashing of a rebellion which some of his gover¬
nors had entered into ; but whatever glory he might
acquire from this or any other exploit, his behaviour
with regard to his domestic affairs must certainly place
him in a very disadvantageous light. In the decline of
the king’s life, the mother of the heir-apparent con¬
ceived such an extreme desire to behold her son in pos¬
session of the throne, that she began to form schemes
for obliging his father to take him into partnership
with him in the government. These being discovered,
63
her husband cruelly caused her to be whipped to death : Abyssinia,
and finding that his son afterwards performed certain—y——<
solemnities at her grave in token of regard for her, he
caused him to be loaded with irons and banished to the
top of a mountain ; where he would probably have been
put to death, had not the monks interfered. These
having invented prophecies, dreams, and revelations,
that none but the young prince Baeda Mariam was to
possess the throne, the old king submitted to the decrees
of Heaven, and relaxed in his severity.
On the accession of the new king in 1468, the oldThe royal
law for imprisoning all the royal family was revived,
atid a mountain named Gcshen chosen for the purpose.C0I1“
Having thus secured himself from any danger of a rival
in case he should undertake a foreign expedition, he
proclaimed a pardon to all those who had been banish¬
ed during the former reign, and thus ingratiated him¬
self with his people : after which he began to prepare
for war. At this the neighbouring princes, particu¬
larly the king of Adel, being alarmed, sent ambassa¬
dors requesting the continuance of peace. The Abys-War with
sinian monarch told them, that his design was to de-tb6 Doha*
stroy the Hobas ; a race of shepherds very wealthy, reso*ve<*
but extremely barbarous, professing the Pagan religion,
and greatly resembling the Gallas. The reason of
his commencing hostilities against them wras, that they
made continual inroads into his country, and commit¬
ted the greatest cruelties 5 on which account he deter¬
mined not to make war as with a common enemy, but
to exterminate and destroy them as a nuisance. The
king of Adel was no sooner possessed of this piece of
intelligence, than he communicated it to the Dobas j
desiring them to send their women and children, with
their most valuable effects, into his country, till the in¬
vasion should be over. This proposal was readily em-They are
braced j but Bseda having got notice of it, seized anniassacrutU
avenue through which they must necessarily pass, and
massacred every one of the company. After this, en¬
tering their country, he committed such devastations,
that they were glad to submit, and even to renounce
their religion in order to free themselves from such a
dreadful enemy. The king then turned his arms against
Adel, where he was attended with his usual success j
a most complete victory being gained over the Moors
by the Abyssinian general : but while the king himself
was advancing towards that country, with a full resolu-®ea£l1
tion to reduce it to the most abject state of misery, he116 in®'
was seized with a pain in his bowels, which occasioned
his death.
The discovery of the kingdom of Ethiopia or Abys¬
sinia by the Europeans took place about this time. It
has already been observed, that some intercourse by
means of individuals had been carried on betwixt this
country and Italy j but the knowledge conveyed to
Europeans in this manner was very imperfect and ob-Discovery r
scure. Even the situation of the country had been®fAby*-
forgotand though some confused notions were enter-!?n*a ^ythe
tained of a distant Christian prince who was likewise a't'urop 3'
priest, Marco Paulo, the famous Venetian traveller,
affirms that he had met with him in Tartary ; and itOf Prester
was universally agreed, that his name was John.
Presbyter, Prete Janni, or Prester John. When the
Portuguese began to extend their discoveries along the
coast of Africa, more certain intelligence concerning
this prince was obtained. Bemoy, one of the kings of
the
64
ABYSSINIA.
Ambassa¬
dors sent
from the
king of
Portugal,
Account of
their tra¬
vels*
Abyssinia, tlie Jalosses, a nation on the western coast ot Africa,
had assured the Portuguese navigators of the existence
of such a prince so strongly, that the king determined
to send ambassadors to him ; and the discovery was of
the greater consequence, that a passage to the East In¬
dies was now attempted both by land and sea. The
ambassadors were named Peter Covillan and. Alphonso
de Paiva. These were sent to Alexandria in Egypt,
from whence they were to set out on their journey j the
intent of which'was, to explore the sources of the In¬
dian trade, the principal markets lor the spice, &c.
but above all, to discover whether it was possible to
arrive at the Esst Indies by sailing round the continent
of Africa.
In the prosecution of this scheme our two travellers
went from Alexandria to Cairo j from thence to Suez
at the bottom of the Red sea ; from Suez they took
their route to Aden, a wealthy and commercial city
beyond the straits of Babel Mandeb Covillan now set
sail for India, and De Paiva for Suakem. 1 he latter
lost his life without making any discovery ; but Covil-
lan passed over to Calicut and Goa. Iron* thence he
returned to the continent of Africa, visiting the gold
mines of Sofala, and passing from thence to Aden and
Cairo } at which place he was informed of the death
of his companion. In this city he was met by two
Jews with letters from the king of Abyssinia. One of
- these Jews was sent back with letters to the Abyssinian
monarch: but with the other he proceeded to the
island of Ormus in the Persian gulf. Here they sepa¬
rated ; the Jew returning home, and Covillan repass¬
ing the straits of Babel Mandel, whence he proceeded
to^Aden, and afterwards entered the Abyssinian domi-
niens.
The reigning prince at this time was named Alex¬
ander ; and when Covillan arrived, he was employed
in levying contributions upon his rebellious subjects.
He met with a kind reception; and was conveyed to
the capital, where he was promoted to the highest
posts of honour, but never allowed to return to Europe
Important again. .The intelligence, however, which he transmit-
inteliigence ^ to tjie court of portugal proved of much import-
rSigai ancc. He not only described all the ports ot India he
by Covib had seen, with the situation and wealth of Solala, but
lan* advised the king to prosecute the discovery ol the pas¬
sage round Africa with the utmost diligence j affirm¬
ing, that the cape at the southern extremity of the
continent was well known in India j and accompany¬
ing the whole with a chart which he had obtained from
a Moor, and which showed exactly the situation of the
cape and neighbouring countries.
Beign of Covillan arrived in Ethiopia about the year 1490 j
Alexander. ain^ tl>e prince to whom he addressed himself was A-
lexander the son of Bseda Mariam, a prince endowed
with many good qualities, and no less versed in mili¬
tary affairs than any of his predecessors. His reign
was disturbed by plots and rebellions, which at last
Meditates proved fatal to him. From his early years he mani-
a war a- fested a great desire to make war on the king of Adel,
gainst Adel. wj10 seems to have been the natural rival of the Ethio-
pic princes. But the Adelian monarch, having now
become sensible that he was not able to cope with such
powerful adversaries, took the most effectual way of
securing himself'*, viz. by gaining over a party at the
court of Abyssinia. In this he had now succeeded so
well, that when Alexander was about fo invade Adel, Abyssinia.
Za Saluce the prime minister, with many of the prin- —7V'““*'J
cipal nobility, were in the interest pf his adversary.
Not being apprized of this treachery, however, Alex-j)i;. p|jine
ander intrusted this minister with the command of amimste»
great part of his forces 5 and with these the latter aban-and most e!,j
dened him in the heat of an engagement. Alexander
and the few troops who remained with him, however, ’a
were so far from being disheartened by this treachery, tory4
that they seemed to be inspired with fresh courage.
The king having killed the standard-bearer of the ene¬
my, and thus become master of the green ensign of
Mahomet, the enemy began to give way j and on his
killing the king of Adel’s son, immediately after, they
quitted the field altogether. The victory wras not by
any means complete 5 neither wTas Alexander in a si¬
tuation to pursue the advantage he had gained. Hav¬
ing therefore challenged the Moors to a second engage¬
ment, which they declined, he returned with a design
to punish his perfidious minister Za Saluce, who had
endeavoured to excite the governors of all the provin¬
ces to revolt as he went along. The traitor, however, Alexandet
had laid his plots too well j so that his sovereign wasnnwctered.
murdered in two days after his arrival in the capital.
Za Saluce did not enjoy the rewards he expected from
his treachery : for having attempted to excite a revolt
in the province of Amhara, he was attacked by the
nobility there j and his troops deserting him, he was
taken prisoner without any resistance, his eyes were put
out, and himself exposed on an ass, to the curses and
derision of the people.
Alexander was succeeded by an infant son, who Reign of
reigned only seven months j after which his younger Naod,
brother Naod was chosen king by the unanimous voice
of the people. He proved a wise and virtuous prince j
but the late misfortunes, together with the corruption
introduced at court by the Mahometans, bad so un¬
hinged the government, that it became very difficult to
know how to manage matters. Judging very proper¬
ly, however, that one of the most effectual methods of
quieting the minds of the people would be an offer of
a general pardon j he not only proclaimed this, but
likewise, “ That any person who should upbraid an¬
other with being a party in the misfortunes of past
times, or say that he had been privy to this or that
conspiracy, had received bribes from the Moors, &c.
should he put to death without delay.” On his enter-Maffudi
ing upon government, he found it necessary to prepare ravag5s t^
against an enemy whom we have not heretofore men-^^f®*".1^
tioned, viz. Maffudi, prince of a district named Arar7
which lay in the neighbourhood of Adel. This chief¬
tain being a man of a very enterprising and martial
disposition, and a most violent enthusiast in the Maho¬
metan cause, had made a vow to spend 40 days annual¬
ly in some part of the Abyssinian dominions during the
time of Lent. For this purpose he kept a small body
of veteran troops, with whom he fell sometimes on
one part, and sometimes on another of the frontiers,
putting to death without mercy such as made resistance,
and carrying oft’ for slaves those who made none. For
30 years he continued this practice 5 beginning exactly
on the first day of Lent, and proceeding gradually up
the country as the term advanced. His progress was
greatly facilitated by the superstition of the people
themselves, who kept that fast with such rigour as al¬
most
A B Y S
Abyssinia, most entirely to exhaust their strength *, so that Maffutli
1—liaving never met with any opposition, was always sure
of success, and thus came to be reckoned invincible.
He is de- On the present occasion, however, he experienced a
ieated. prodigious reverse of fortune. Naod having enjoined
his soldiers to live in the same full and free manner
during the fast as at any other time, and having set the
example himself, marched out against his enemy j who,
being ignorant of the precaution he had taken, advan¬
ced with his usual confidence of success. The Abyssi¬
nian monarch, still pretending fear, as if on account of
the weakness of his men, pitched his camp in very
strong ground, but left some passages open to it, that
the enemy might make an attack. This was done
contrary to the advice of their leader \ and the conse¬
quence was, that almost every one of them was cut off.
On this the king of Adel sent ambassadors to solicit a
continuance of the peace with himself j which was
granted, upon condition that he restored all the slaves
whom Maffudi had carried off in his last year’s expe¬
dition *, with which the Mahometan chief thought pro¬
per to comply rather than engage in such a dangerous
war.
Naod having thus freed his country from the dan¬
ger of any foreign invasion, applied himself to the cul¬
tivation of the arts of peace, and reforming the man¬
ners of his subjects, in which he spent the remainder
of his days. He died in 1508, after a reign of 13
©avid III; years *, and was succeeded by his son David HI. a child
of 11 years of age. Though the affairs of the empire
were at present in such a state as required a very pru¬
dent and active administration, the empress Helena,
widow of Boeda Mariam, had interest enough to get
the crown settled on the infant just mentioned. This
proceeded partly from her desire of engrossing all the
power into her own hands, and partly from a wish to
keep peace with Adel her native country. These ends
could not be accomplished but by keeping a minor on
the throne of Abyssinia j which was therefore her con¬
stant object as long as she lived. But though this
might not have been attended with any very bad con¬
sequence had the two nations been left to decide the
quarrel by themselves, the face of affairs was now quite
changed by the interference of the Turks. That peo¬
ple having now conquered almost the whole of Arabia
Abyssinia to the Indian ocean, being likewise on the point of re-
fronfther ^uc'n£ Egypt, and having a great advantage over their
Turks adversaries in using fire-arms, now projected the con¬
quest of India also. In this indeed they were always
disappointed by the superior valour of the Portuguese :
but as this conquest remained a favourite object with
them, they did not abandon their attempts. In the
countries which they had conquered, they exacted such
enormous contributions from the merchants, that vast
numbers of them fled to the African side of the Red
sea, and settled on the coast of Adel. The Turks
surprised at the increase of trade in this country, which
they themselves had occasioned, resolved to share in the
profits. For this purpose they took possession of Zeyla,
a small island in the Red sea, directly opposite to the
coast of Adel ; and erected a customhouse in it, where
they oppressed and ruined the trade as in other places.
Thus both Adel and Abyssinia were threatened with
a most formidable enemy, which it would have been
utterly out of their power to have resisted, had not the
¥ol. I. Part I. f
S I N I A,
desire of possessing India constantly prevented the Turks Abyssinia.
from directing their strength against these countries. v——'
Helena was sensible enough of the dangerous situation An cm,)assy
of the empire, but preferred the gratification of her *en^10 Poi~
ambition to the good of her country ; however, that ^
she might preserve herself from the attacks of such a
formidable enemy, it was now thought proper to enter
into an alliance with the Portuguese. The ambassa¬
dor from Portugal, Peter Covillan, was denied the li¬
berty of returning to his own country, as has been al¬
ready related 5 and as, for some time past, it had not
been obvious how he could be of much use, he had
begun to fall into oblivion. The present emergenev,
however, recovered his importance. The empress was
sensible of the necessity she lay under of having some
person who understood both the Abyssinian and Por¬
tuguese languages before she could open any correspon,
dence with that nation, and who might likewise in¬
form her of the names of the persons to whom her let¬
ters ought to be addressed. By him she was now in¬
structed in every thing necessary to the success of her
embassy. The message w'as committed to one Matthew
an Armenian merchant, with whom a young Abyssi¬
nian was joined j but the latter died by the way. Th&
letters they carried are by Mr Bruce supposed to have
been partly the work of Covillan and partly of the
less experienced Abyssinian confidants of the empress.
They began with telling the king, that Matthew would
give him information of her whole purpose, and that
he might depend on the truth of what he said : but in
the latter part the whole secret of the embassy was
disclosed, and a force sufficient to destroy the Turkish
power was expressly solicited. Among the other par¬
ticulars of this embassy also it is said, that a third part
of Abyssinia was offered in case her requisitions were
complied with 5 but this, as well as the embassy itself
was always denied by David when he came of age.
Matthew, though raised from the rank of merchant The ambatij;
to that of an ambassador, could not, it seems, act ac-sador
cording to his new dignity in such a manner as toli:sCtl*
screen himself from the most mortifying and dangerous
imputations. Having arrived at Dabul in the East
Indies, he was seized as a spy, but relieved by Albu¬
querque the viceroy of Goa j and that not out of any
regard to his character as ambassador, but because he
himself had a design upon Abyssinia. This viceroy
used his utmost endeavours to induce Matthew to de¬
liver his commission to him •, but the ambassador con¬
stantly refused to show any letter he had, except to
the king of Portugal in person, and in his own king¬
dom. This put him out of favour with the viceroy ;
while his attendants, displeased at the mean appear¬
ance of the man, insisted sometimes that he was a spy
from the sultan, at others that he was a cook, an im¬
postor, or a menial servant. Matthew, however, per¬
ceiving that he was now out of danger, maintained
that his person was sacred, and insisted on being treat¬
ed as the representative of a sovereign. He let the
viceroy, bishop, and clergy know, that he had with
him a piece of the wood of the true cross, sent as a
present to the king of Portugal : and he required
them, under pain of sacrilege, to pay respect to the
bearer of such a precious relic, and to celebrate its ar¬
rival as a festival. This was instantly complied with,
and a solemn procession instituted j but very little re-
1 gard
Oi
65
ABYSSINIA.
Abyssinia.
Maffurli re¬
news his
depreda¬
tions.
David
itnarches a-
gaiust him.
Mafia ]i
prophesies
his own
ileath.
gard appears to have been paid to this ambassador ei¬
ther hi his temporal or spiritual character, as he could
not obtain leave to depart for Portugal till 1513, which
was three years after he arrived in India. In his pas¬
sage he was extremely ill-treated by the shipmasters
vvith whom he sailed : but of this they soon had cause
to repent ; as on their arrival at Lisbon they were all
put in irons, ami would probably have died in confine¬
ment, had not Matthew made intercession for them
with the king.
In the mean time, MafTudi having recovered from
the defeat given him by Naod, and formed alliances
with the Turks in Arabia, had renewed his depreda¬
tions on the Abyssinian territories with more success
than ever. Such a number of slaves bad been, by bis
assiduity, sent to Mecca, that he was honoured with
a green silk standard (an emblem of the true Mahome¬
tan faith), with a tent of black velvet embroidered
with gold, and he was likewise made Sheykh of Zey-
}a ; so that, as this island was properly the key to the
Abyssinian empire, he could neither be rewarded with
greater honour nor profit. This happened when David
bad attained the age of 16 ; and in consequence of
such surprising success the king of Adel, never a
hearty friend to Abyssinia, determined to break the
peace with that empire and make an alliance with
Maffudi. Having taken this resolution, the two princes
invaded Abyssinia with their joint forces, and in one
year carried off 19,000 Christian slaves, so that a ge¬
neral terror was spread over the whole empire. David,
already impatient of the injuries his people had sustain¬
ed, determined to raise an army, and to head it in per¬
son as his ancestors had done, contrary to the advice
of the empress, who considering only his youth and in¬
experience in military affairs, wished him to have em¬
ployed some of his veteran officers. A very powerful
army was raised, and ample supplies of all kinds were
procured. With one part of his forces the emperor
took the road to Aussa the capital of Adel; sending the
other under the command of an officer named the Be-
twudet, to meet the Moorish army, which was then ra¬
vaging part of Abyssinia. It was natural to be ima¬
gined, that the Moors, on hearing that an army was
marching to destroy the capital of their country, would
abandon the thoughts of conquest or plunder to pre¬
serve it. In doing this, David knew that they had
certain defiles to pass before they could reach Adel.
He ordered the Betwudet therefore to allow them to
enter these defiles ; and before they could get through,
he himself, with the main body of the army, marched
to attack them at the other end. Thus the Moors
were completely hemmed in by a superior army : hut
besides this unfavourable situation, they were farther
dispirited by Maffudi. That hero came, on the morn¬
ing of the engagement, to the king of Adel, inform¬
ing him that his own time was now come j that he
had been certainly told by a prophet, long ago, that
if this year (1316) he should fight the king of Abyssi¬
nia in person, he should lose his life. He was assured
that the Abyssinian monarch was then present, having
seen the scarlet tent which was used only by the sove¬
reigns of that country j and therefore advised the king Abyssinia,
of Adel to make the best of his way over the least—y——j
steep part of the mountain before tlie engagement be¬
gan. The Adelian monarch, who had at any rate no
great inclination to fight, was not inspired with cou¬
rage by this speech : he therefore followed the advice
given him j and, with a few of his friends, passed the
mountain, leaving his troops to their fate. The
Moors, in the mean time, being abandoned by one
leader, and having another devoted to destruction,
showed an uncommon backwardness to engage, which
was taken notice of by their enemies. Mafludi, how¬
ever, as soon as he supposed the king of Adel to be
out of danger, sent a trumpet to the Abyssinian Camp,
with a challenge to any man of quality in the army to
fight him *, on condition that the party of the victori¬
ous champion should be accounted conquerors, and
that the armies should immediately separate without
further bloodshed. The challenge was instantly ac¬
cepted by a monk named Gabriel Andreas; who, in
the reign of Baeda Mariam, had been condemned to
lose the tip of his tongue for speaking slightly of the
king’s proclamation of amnesty. Maffudi showed no fje yn,
reluctance to present himself j but received such a^
stroke from his antagonist with a two-handed sword as
almost cut his body in twm, and he immediately fell
down dead. Andreas cut off his head j and throwing
it at the king’s feet, cried out, “ There is the Goliath
of the infidels.” This became the signal for a general
engagement, notwithstanding the terms stipulated by
Maffudi before the combat. The Moors were quickly The Moers
repulsed by the king’s troops, and driven backward defeated
through the defile. At the other end they were metant^^®"
by the Betwudet (b), who drove them back to thestl0^e
king’s forces j so that at last being forced to fly to the
mountains, they were all slaughtered by the peasants,
or perished with hunger and thirst.
The same day that this victory was gained over the2eylata-
Moors by David, being in the month of July I5i6,ken by the
the island of Zeyla in the Red sea was taken and theP°rtuSuese*
town burnt by the Portuguese fleet under Lopez Sua¬
rez de Alberguiera. The Abyssinian ambassador,
Matthew, in the mean time, had been received wdth
the greatest marks of esteem in Portugal. The utmost
attention w’as paid to his embassy ; he was lodged in
the most splendid manner } and his maintenance w'as
suitable to his lodging. The king prepared an em-Embassy
bassy on his part, and sent home Matthew on board from th«
the Indian fleet commanded by Lopez. The ambassa- kinajot
dor ordered for Abyssinia was one Edward Galvan, a^ortu^a^
man who had filled many state departments with the
utmost applause 5 hut who by reason of his age, being
now 86, was certainly very unfit for such a distant and
perilous voyage. He died accordingly on the island
of Camaran in the Red sea, where Suarez had impru¬
dently landed, and passed the winter in the utmost di¬
stress for want of provisions of every kind. This ad¬
miral was succeeded by Lopez de Seguyera j who sailed
first to the island of Goa in the East Indies, where he
fitted out a strong fleet ; after which he returned to
the Red sea, and landed on the island of Masuah, hav^
ing
(b) This is the title of one of the officers in Abyssinia, not the proper name of a man.
1 Portu¬
guese fleet
rrives on
he coast
tf Abyssi-
Abyssinia. ing along with him Matthew, about the authenticity
—v ' of whose mission there had been such disputes. At his
first approach the inhabitants fled j but at last he was
accosted by a Christian and a Moor from the continent,
who informed him that the coast opposite to Masftah
was part of the kingdom of Abyssinia, and that it was
governed by an officer named the baharmtgash; that all
the inhabitants of the island were Christians j that the
reason of their flying at the sight of the Portuguese
fleet was that they took them for Turks, who fre¬
quently made descents, and ravaged the island, &c.
The admiral dismissed them with presents ; and soon
after had a visit from the governor of Arkeeko, a town
on the continent ; who informed him, that about 24
miles up the country there was a monastery, seven of
the members of which were now deputed to wait upon
him. These instantly knew Matthew, and congratu¬
lated him in the warmest manner upon his return from
such a long voyage. An interview scon took place
between the baharnagash himself and Lopez. The
Abyssinian informed him, that the coming of the Por¬
tuguese had been long expected, in consetj[uence of cer¬
tain ancient prophecies 5 and that he himself and all
the officers of the emperor were ready to serve him.
They parted with mutual presents ; and all doubt about
Matthew being now removed, he prepared to set out
for the emperor’s court} while Rodengo de Lima was
nominated ambassador in place of Galvan who died.
Along with them were 15 Portuguese j all men of the
most determined courage, and who would hesitate at
nothing which they thought might contribute to the
glory of their king, their own honour, or the advan¬
tage of their country. Their present journey indeed
_ was much more perilous than their voyage from Por¬
tugal to Abyssinia. The emperor was at this time in
the southern part of his dominions, but the Portuguese
had landed on the northern part; so that they had al¬
most the whole breadth of the empire to pass before
they could meet with him. The very first journey
they attempted was through a wood so thick that it
could scarce afford a passage either to man or beast,
while the inteistices of the trees were so interwoven
with briers and thorns of various kinds, that their pas¬
sage was rendered almost impracticable. This was ren¬
dered still more terrible by the vast numbers of wild
beasts they saw, and which seemed only to be prevented
from devouring them by the appearance of so many
men together. The rainy season was also now begun ;
so that they were exposed to incessant deluges of water
descending from the clouds, besides frequent and vio¬
lent storms of wind, thunder, and lightning, &c. To
add to their misfortunes, an epidemic fever broke out
among them, which carried off Matthew and one of
the servants of Don Roderigo. At last, alter a most
tedious and toilsome journey, from the 16th of April
to the 18th of October 1520, the Portuguese ambassa¬
dor, with his retinue, came within sight of the Abys¬
sinian camp at the distance of about three miles. Plis
reception was by no means favourable ; for instead of
being immediately admitted to the presence of the em¬
peror, he was waited on by one of the officers of state,
styled, in token of humility, Hadug Has, or commander
of asses; who caused him pitch his tent three miles
farther off from the camp : and it was not till five years
afterwards that he was enabled to finish the business
ABYSSINIA. 67
of his embassy, and obtained leave to depart for Portu- Abyssinia.
Difficult
ourney of
he ambas
adors
1 rough
ibyssinia.
re very
different-
received
S the em-
;ror, and
»g detain-
3.
gal-
During all this time, not a single tvord had passed
relating to the affairs of the two nations ; so that it is
difficult to imagine what might have been the design At last al-
of the Abyssinian emperor. At last, having resolvedIowed to
to send an embassy to Portugal, he allowed Roderigo depar5 wilh
to depart, hut detained two of his people j appointing dor from
Zaga Zaab, an Abyssinian monk, his ambassador to Por- the empe-
tugal. ror.
1 his long intercourse betwixt two such distant na- Bad effects
tions, however, could not hut greatly alarm the Maho-oi this de-
metan powers, who were natural enemies to both. Se-
lim, the Turkish sultan, having been constantly defeat¬
ed by the Portuguese in the east, and alarmed at the
thoughts of having a fleet of that nation in the Red
sea, where they might greatly annoy his settlements
on the coast of Arabia, determined to carry his arms
to the African side ; while the king of Adel, having
strengthened himself by alliances with the Turkish of¬
ficers in Arabia, was now become a much more for¬
midable enemy than before. This was soon experitn-The empe-
ced in a battle with the Adelians ; in which the Ain s-'°r defeat-
sinian monarch was overthrown with the loss of almosted b> thc
all his great officers and principal nobility, besides a Vlooi's'
vast number of private men. The victory was princi¬
pally owing to the assistance given by the Turks ; for
the army was commanded by Mahomet surnamed
Gragne, i. e. left-handed, governor of Zeyla, which had
now received a Turkish garrison. This man, havino
the conquest of Abyssinia greatly at heart, resolved, as
soon as possible, to effect something decisive ; and
therefore having sent to Mecca all the prisoners taken
in his late expedition, he obtained in return a consider¬
able number of janizaries, with a train of portable ar¬
tillery. Thus the fortune of the war was entirely de-T, . ,
cided in favour of the Adelians and Turks 5 the empe-1^ aj,',..
ror was defeated in every battle, and frequently hunt-ed by the "
ed from place to place like a wild beast.. The Moors, Turkl«
finding at last no necessity for keeping up an army,deteat th®
overran the whole empire in small parties, everywheretmperor‘
plundering and burning the towns and villages, and car¬
rying off the people for slaves.
This destructive war continued till the year 1537 $
when Gragne sent a message to the emperor, exhorting
him not to fight any longer against God, hut to make
peace while it was in his power, and give him his
daughter in marriage : on which condition he would
withdraw his army j but otherwise he vvould reduce
his empire to such a state that it should be capable of
producing nothing but grass. David, however, sti|[refuse»
refused to submitj replying, that he put his confidence10 subrait'
in God, who at present only chastised him and his
people for their sins; but that Gragne himself, being
an infidel, and enemy to the true religion, could not
fail of coming in a short time to a miserable end. This
unsuccessful negotiation was followed by several encoun¬
ters, in which the emperor was Constantly defeated 5 in
one of them his eldest son was killed, and in another
his youngest was taken prisoner; so that he now seem¬
ed entirely destitute, being obliged to wander on foot,
and all alone, hiding himself throughout the day among
the bushes on the mountains.
The invincible constancy with which this forlorn
monarch bore his misfortunes, proved a matter of sur-
I 2 prise
prise both to friends and enemies. Many of his vete-
' ran soldiers, compassionating the distresses of thmr so-
. i . l  I a i o Kirlinrr t licit
A new em¬
bassy to
Portugal.
A body of
Portuguese
ordered to
assist the
emperor.
ran soiuieia,  . .... , ,
vereign, sought him out in his hiding places 5 so that
he once more found himself at the head of a small ar¬
my, with which he gained some advantages that served
to keep up his own spirits and those ot his adherents.
His greatest enemy was Ammer, one.of Gragne s of¬
ficers, who headed the rebellious Abyssiuians, and who
had formed a scheme of assassinating the king*, but,
instead of accomplishing his purpose, he himself was as¬
sassinated in 1538 by a common soldier, on what ac¬
count we are not informed.
By the. death of Ammer and the small successes
which David himself had obtained, the affairs of Abys¬
sinia seemed to revive j but still there was no probabi¬
lity of their being ever brought to a fortunate issue.
An embassy to Portugal was therefore thought of in
good earnest, as the mischievous effects of slighting the
proffered friendship of that power were now sufficient¬
ly apparent. One of the attendants of Hodengo na¬
med John Bermudes, who had been detained in Abys¬
sinia, was chosen for this purpose *, and to his tempo¬
ral character of ambassador was added that ot Abuna,
primate or patriarch. John, who was not a clergy¬
man originally, had received all the inferior ecclesia¬
stical orders at once, that the supreme one might be
thus conferred upon him but happening to be a great
bio-ot to the popish- religion, he would not accept of
his new dignity but with a proviso, that his ordination
should be approved by the pope. . 1 his was indirectly
submitting the church of Abyssinia to that of home 7
to which David would never have agreed,, had it not
been for the desperate situation of his affairs at that
time. John was therefore allowed to do as he thought
proper : when passing through Arabia and Egypt to
Italy, he had his ordination confirmed by. the pope ;
after which he set out on the business of his embassy.
On his arrival at Lisbon, he was acknowledged by the
Ling as patriarch of Alexandria, Abyssinia, and of the
sea for this last title had also been conferred upon
him by his Holiness. Entering then upon the pur¬
pose of his embassy, he began by putting Zaga Zaab in
irons for having wasted so much time, and done no¬
thing effectual since he had lelt Abyssinia. Then he
represented to the king the distresses of the Abyssmians
in such a strong light, and insisted so violently for re¬
lief to them, that an order was very soon procured for
400 musketeers to be sent by Don Garcia de Noren.ha
to their relief. To accelerate the progress of the in¬
tended succours, John himsell proposed to sail in the
same fleet with Don Garcia •, hut his voyage was de¬
layed for a whole year by sickness, occasioned, as he
supposed, by poison given him by Zaga Zaab, the monk
whom he had imprisoned, and who had been set at li¬
berty by the king. After his recovery, however, he
set sail for India, where he arrived in safety. The
death of Don Garcia, which happened in the mean
time, occasioned another delay ; hut at last it was re¬
solved, that Don Stephen de Gama, who had succeed¬
ed to Don Garcia, should undertake an expedition to
the Red sea, in order to burn some Turkish galleys
which then lay at Suez. But intelligence having in
the mean time been received of the intended voyage,
these vessels had withdrawn themselves. Anchoring
then in the port of Masuah, Don Stephen sent over to
ABYSSINIA.
Aikeeko on the continent to procure fresh water and Abyssinici
other provisions j but the Turks and Moors being now --—v >
entirely masters of that coast, the goods he had sent in l!lK S«c-
evchamre were seized without anything being given'*™1'’;®'11
exchange were seized without anything being glven an;rt^ve
in return. A message was brought back, impoi tuig, }0W11 0f-
that the king of Adel was now master of all Ethiopia, Arkeeko,
and consequently, that no trade could be canied on
without his leave j but if Don Stephen would make
peace with him, the goods should be restored, a plen¬
tiful supply of water and all kinds of provisions grant¬
ed, and amends likewise made for 60 Portuguese who
had been killed at Zeyla. These had run away from-
the fleet on its first arrival in the Red sea, and landed
on the coast of Adel, where they could procure no iva-
VMA   7 ^ * ,
ter; of which the barbarians took advantage to decoy
them up the country $ where, having persuaded them
to lay down their arms, they murdered them all. To
this Don Stephen returned a smooth answer, sent more
goods, obtained provisions, and promised to come ashore
as soon as a Mahometan festival, which the savages
were then celebrating, should be over. This treaty
was carried on with equal had faith on both sides , but
Don Stephen had now the advantage by obtaining the
provisions he stood in need of. These were no sooner
brought on board, than he strictly forbade all inter¬
course with the land ; and choosing out 600 men, he
attacked the town of Arkeeko, killed the governor,
and sent his head to the Abyssinian court j massacring
at the same time all the people in the town he met
with. ,
During this long interval, a considerable change Afiairs of
had taken place in the Abyssinian afiairs. We have Aby^ssmia^
already seen that David had been reduced to great di-j
stress j but afterwards met with some little successes,
which seemed to indicate an approaching change of
fortune. In these, however, he was soon disappoint-Royal fa-
ed. A Mahometan chief called Vixir Mugdul made mily mas.
an attack upon the rock Geshen, where the royal fa-sacrc
mily were kept; and finding it entirely unguarded, as¬
cended without opposition, and put every person to the
sword. This last disaster seems to have been too great Death 0f
for the resolution even of this heroic prince, as he diedDavld’.and
the same year, 1540. He was succeeded by Ins son Gkuclius t0
Claudius, who, though then but about .18 years of age,^ empire,
was endowed with all the great qualities necessary for
managing the affairs of the empire in such a dreadful
crisis, and had made considerable progress before the
arrival of the Portuguese.
On his accession, the Moors, despising his youth, in-A powerful
stantly formed a league among themselves to crush himj.®®^ &
at once 5 but, like almost all others too confident ofgaingt the
victory, they neglected to take the proper precautions new empe.
against a surprise. This was not unobserved by Clau-ror.
dius ; who falling upon one party which lay next to
him, gave them a total defeat. The king PursVe^ Jefeafed0”
them the whole day of the engagement, the ensuing
night, and part of the following day 5 putting to death
without mercy every one who fell into his hands. This
excessive ardour very much damped the spirits of his
enemies, and at the same time inspired his own party
with the most sanguine hopes of success j whence he
soon appeared at the head of such an army as convin¬
ced his enemies that he was by no means to be despi¬
sed. They now found it necessary to desist from the
practice they had so long continued, of plundering and
ravaging
<3e
ABYSSINIA.
• Osyssinia ravaging tlie country j to call in their scattered par-
ties, unite their troops, and spend the rainy season in
such parts ot Abyssinia as they had conquered, with¬
out returning into Adel, as had hitherto been usual
with them. They now came to a resolution to force
. the king to a general engagement, in which they ho¬
ped to prove victorious by dint of numbers. For this
purpose all the rebel chiefs in Abyssinia were called in,
and a formidable army collected. They waited only
for one very experienced chief named Jonathan ; after
whose junction they determined to attack the royal ar¬
my without delay. But Claudius took his posts at all
times with such judgment, that any attempt upon his
onatban a camp would have been almost desperate: and getting
|J;bel chief, intelligence where Jonathan lay with his forces, he
nd kb]1 d marc^e^ ou^ ^ie time, came upon him quite
unprepared, defeated and killed him, sending his head
to the rest of the confederacy by a prisoner, the only one
lie had spared out of all those who were taken. By
the same messenger a defiance was sent to the Moors,
' and many opprobrious epithets were bestowed upon
them 5 but though the armies approached one another,
and continued for several days under arms, the Moors
were so much intimidated that they would by no means
venture an engagement.
Bv this victory the spirits of the Abyssinians were so
much elevated, that they flocked in from all parts to
join their prince } and even many of the Mahometans,
having experienced the lenity of the Christian govern¬
ment, chose rather to submit to Claudius than to the
I Jnsnccess- Turks and Adelians. The king, however, was in dan-
ul attempt-ger 0f ke]ng assassinated by one Ammer, a treacherous
r\ oecocci O O # 1111 *1
governor y who knowing- that he had retired to some
distance from his army to celebrate the festival of
Easter, attempted to surprise him when almost desti¬
tute of attendants ; hut Claudius having timely notice
of his designs, laid an ambush for him with a consider¬
able part of his army which he headed in prison. The
rebel, not being equally well informed, fell into the
snare, was defeated, and almost his whole army cut off
on the 24th of April 1541.
Such was the situation of affairs when the Portu¬
guese arrived. The head of the governor of Arkeeko
had been received by the queen, who regarded it as a
happy instance of the valour of her allies, and as a
presage of future victories. The Portuguese admiral,
Eon Stephen de Gama, lost no time in employing the
men allowed by the king to assist the Abyssinians.
* These were in number 450 5 but as the officers who
commanded them were all noblemen of the first rank,
the army was considerably increased bv the number of
of their servants. The supreme command w'as given
to Don Christopher de Gama the admiral’s youngest
brother. Almost every man on hoard, however, was
ambitious to share in the glory of this enterprise 5
)erivation whence great complaints were made by those who were
f the name not allowed to go : and hence, Mr Bruce informs us,
lasiiah ^ the bay in the island of Masuah, where the admiral’s
'he Poitu- Salley mtle, had the name of Bahia dos Agravados ;
uese under the bay of the injured, not of the sick, as has been er-
)on Chri- roneously supposed.
I da 'pjjjg gal]ant army instantly set forward by the most
ut tu meeteasy roat* through the Abyssinian territories, in order
> he empe- to j°*n f'16 emperor. Still, however, the way was so
7 w. rugged, that the carriages of their artillery gave way,
69-
a assassi-
late Clau-
ias.
and they were therefore .obliged to construct new ones Abyssinia.
as they went along, splitting the barrels of old mus- '——v *
kets to furnish them with iron, which was extremely
scarce in Abyssinia. In this journey the general was interview
met by the empress, attended with her two sisters and a with the
great many others of both sexes, whom he saluted with empress,
drums beating and colours flying, accompanied by a
general discharge of the fire-arms, to their great con¬
fusion and terror. Her majesty, whose person was en¬
tirely covered, indulged the Portuguese general with
a view of her face ; and after a mutual exchange of ci¬
vilities, the queen returned with 100 musketeers ap¬
pointed by him as her guard. After eight days march,
through a very rugged country, Don Christopher re¬
ceived a defiance in very insulting terms from Gragne
the Mahometan general, which was returned in the same
style. An engagement took place on the 25th of Battle be-
March 1542 ; in which little was done by either party tween t,ie
besides wounding both the commanders : however, ^la^es*
Gragne, though greatly superior in horse, had already Moors,
felt so much of the Portuguese valour, that he did not
choose to venture a second battle.
As the season was now far advanced, the Portu¬
guese put themselves into winter-quarters ; while Grag¬
ne remained in their neighbourhood, in hopes of for¬
cing them to a battle before they could be joined by
the king, who advanced for the purpose as fast as pos*
sihle. This being the case, it was to the last degree
imprudent in Don Christopher to think of venturing
an engagement without previously forming a junction
with his royal ally ; especially as Gragne had now dou¬
bled the number of his horse, increased his train of
artillery, and otherwise received considerable rein¬
forcements. Unfortunately, however, the Portuguese Don Chri--
general suffered himself to be hurried away by the im-stopher
petuosity of his own temper; and paying regard to raslllyen*
the defiances and reproaches of a barbarian whom he a
ought to have despised, was induced, contrary to all tage.
advice that could he given, to venture an engagement
at a vast disadvantage. Yet when the armies encoun¬
tered each other, the superiority of the Portuguese
was so great, that victory seemed likely to be decided
in their favour. On this Gragne ordered some artille¬
ry to he pointed against the Abyssinian allies. These,
entirely unaccustomed to fire-arms, fled almost at the
first discharge. Gragne, well knowing that it was his
interest to destroy the Portuguese, who were only 400
in number, ordered no pursuit against the Abyssinians,
but fell with his whole force upon the Europeans. Even
yet his success was doubtful, till Don Christopher, ex¬
posing himself too much, was singled out and shot
through the arm. This produced such confusion, that Is wounded
a total defeat, with the loss of the camp, ensued 5 when and defeat-
the barbarians, according to custom, put to death alled'
the wounded, and began to abuse the women, who had
all retired into the tent of the general. This being ob¬
served by a noble Abyssinian lady married to one of the
Portuguese, she set fire to some barrels of gunpowder
which happened to be in the tent, and thus perished
along with her ravishers.
Don Christopher, who by his rashness had occasioned
this disaster, obstinately refused to fly, till he was put
into a litter by force, and set off’ along with the queen
and patriarch, who happened to be present. The two.
latter had set off’ before the battle } but Don Christo-
7©
Abyssinia. r)}ier sent some ll0rsenicn in Pursuit of t,iem> ^ whom
they were brought back, and reproached by the gene-
ABYSSINIA.
on him unexpectedly, and cut him in pieces with all Abyssinia,
his men. * ’ v--’-**'
ken, and
put to
death.
Gragne, a-
bandoned
by his al¬
lies, is de
ral for the bad example they had shown to the army.
Takes shel-^n.;v;ng at tiie approach of night in a wood where
ter in a ^ei.e wa8 a Cave, Don Christopher entered it to have
kern and*1* his wound dressed, but obstinately refused to proceed
farther. Next day he was taken •, betrayed, as is most
probable, by a women whom he loved •, who is said to
have pointed out this cave to him, and promised to
send some friends to convey him into a place of safety.
Instead of this, a party of the enemy entered the cave ;
and on his readily informing them of his name, they
instantly carried him in triumph to Gragne. Here,
after several insults had passed on both sides, the bar¬
barian, in a fit of passion, cut off his head ; which was
sent to Constantinople, and his body cut in pieces and
dispersed through Abyssinia.
This cruelty of Gragne proved more detrimental to
his cause than a complete victory gained by the other
party could have been. On the one hand, the Portu-
feated and guese were so exasperated by the loss of their leader,
killed. that they were ready to embark in the most desperate
undertakings, in order to revenge his death *, on the
other, the Turks, on whom he principally depended,
were irritated to the last degree at the disappointment
of sharing his ransom, which they imagined would have
been an immense sum j and therefore abandoned their
leader to return to their own country. Gragne, thus
left to decide the quarrel with his Africans, w'as quick¬
ly defeated by Claudius ; and in another engagement
which took place on the 10th of February 1543, bis
troops were defeated and himself killed. This last
misfortune was owing to his boldness in advancing be¬
fore his army which was giving way, so that he be¬
came known to the Portuguese. On this he was
singled out by a Portuguese named Peter Lyon, who
had been valet de ehambre to Don Christopher. This
man, to make his aim more sure, crept for a consider¬
able way along the bank of a river towards the place
•where Gragne vras *, and when come sufficiently near,
shot him quite through the body. Finding himself
mortally wounded, he quitted the field of battle 5 and
was followed by Lyon, who in a short time saw him
fall from his horse. He then came up to him, and cut
off one of his ears, which he put in his pocket and
returned to the battle to do what further service he
could. The next day Gragne’s body was found by
an Abyssinian officer, who cut off his head and claim¬
ed the merit of killing him; but Lyon having pulled
out the ear which he carried in his pocket, vindicated
his own right to the reward which was to be given to
the other. On this occasion the Moorish army was al¬
most entirely destroyed ; Gragne’s wife and son were
taken prisoners, with Nur the son of Mugdid, who
destroyed the royal family 5 and it had been happy for
Claudius, as we shall afterwards see, that he had put
these prisoners to death. Very soon after this engage-
Joramare-ment, the emperor had intelligence that Joram, a rebel
bel chief chief who had once reduced his father David to great
distress, was advancing rapidly in hopes of being still
able to be present at the battle. This was the last of
his father’s enemies on whom Claudius had to revenge
himself; and this was effectually done by a detachment
of bis army, who posted themselves in his way, fell up-
defeated
and killed
Claudius being now freed from all apprehension of
foreign enemies, began to turn his thoughts towards
the reparation of the damages occasioned by such a
long war, and the settlement of religious affairs. We Distuiban.
have already mentioned, that John Bermudes was
pointed by the Pope, as he said, patriarch of Alexan-g;on
dria, Abyssinia, and of the sea. This, however, is said
by others to have been a falsehood 5 that John was
originally ordained by the old patriarch of Abyssinia ;
and that the Pope did no more than give his sanction
to this ordination, without adding any new one of his
own. But whether this was so or not, certain it is,
that John, who was very insolent in his behaviour, and
of a turbulent disposition, now began to insist that
Claudius should not only embrace the doctrines of the
church of Rome, hut establish that religion throughout
the empire, which he said his father David had engaged
to do) and which, considering the extreme distress in
which he was involved, it is very probable that he did.
Claudius, however, was of a different opinion, and re-Altercation
fused to alter the religion of the country, upon which betwixt the
a contention began, which was not ended but by the^P4^
total expulsion of the Catholics, and the cutting off all{,Ij.,rc]ie ^
communication with Europeans. At that time the Eesmudes.
Portuguese and Abyssinians intermarried, and attended
religious worship promiscuously in each others churches j
so that the twro nations might have continued to live in
harmony, had it not been for the misbehaviour of Ber¬
mudes. Claudius, perceiving the violence and ever¬
bearing disposition of the man, took every opportunity
of showing his attachment to the Alexandrian or Greek
church } denying that he had made any promise of sub¬
mitting to the see of Rome. On this Bermudes told
him that he was accursed and excommunicated j the
king in return called him aNestorian heretic j to which
Bermudes replied by calling him a liar, and threaten¬
ed to return to India, and carry all the Portuguese
along with him. To this insolent speech Claudius an¬
swered, that he wished indeed that Bermudes would
return to India 5 but that he would not allow the Por¬
tuguese, nor any person, to leave his territories with¬
out permission.
Thus matters seemed likely to come to an open rup¬
ture 5 and there can be no doubt that the worst extre¬
mities would have followed, had not the emperor been
restrained by the fear of the Portuguese valour on the
one hand if he should attempt any thing against them,
and the hopes of further advantages should he retain
them in his service. For these reasons he bore with
patience the insults of the patriarch ; attempting to
gain the rest of the Portuguese over to his side. ^He
succeeded perfectly with their commander Arius Dias,'The PoiW-
who privately renounced the church of Rome, and wasSue^® c0™‘
baptized into that of Abyssinia by the name of Marcus
or Marco ; in consequence of which, the emperor, look-the RomisJ
ing upon him as a naturalized subject, sent him a stand-religion,
ard with the Abyssinian arms to be used instead of those
of Portugal. This, however, was not delivered 5 for
a Portuguese named James Brito, meeting the page
who carried it, took it from him and killed him with
his sword. The apostasy of Arius is said to have been
owing to the great honours which had been conferred
upon
A B Y S
Abyssinia, upon him hy the Abyssinian monarch : for having, in
——v——^ an expedition against Adel, defeated and killed the
king, and taken the queen prisoner, he bestowed her in
Fie is in- marriage on Arius 5 and that the mate!) might be
zested with equal, he raised him also to the royal dignity, by giving
oval dig- {,jm ([jg kingdoms of Doar and Belwa.
dy‘ The altercation on the suJ>ject of religion hecoming
every day more violent, Bermudes was prohibited hy
the emperor from sending anv farther orders to the
Portuguese, they being now under the command of
Marco the Abyssinian captain-general; meaning Arius
Dias, to whom the name of Marco had been lately
given. To this the patriarch replied, that being sub¬
jects of the king of Portugal, they were under no ob¬
ligation to obey a traitor to his king and religion 3 and
that since his majesty still persisted in refusing to sub¬
mit to the pope, he was resolved to leave the empire
with his forces. The emperor, however, still insisted
that he was absolute in his own dominions 3 and he
expected the Portuguese to pay obedience to his gene-
Ipstilities ral, and none else. The Portuguese, enraged at this
he'Ab"s declarat*on> resolved to die sword in hand rather than
iniansand snbmit to such terms 3 and therefore began to fortify
‘ertnguese.their camp in case of any attack. The emperor on
this, thinking a defiance was given him in his own ter¬
ritories, ordered the camp to be instantly attacked. The
attempt was accordingly made, but with very little
success 3 the Portuguese having strewed the ground with
gunpowder, set fire to it as the Abyssinians marched
along, which destroyed great numbers, and intimida¬
ted the rest to such a degree that they instantly fled.
Finding it in vain to think of reducing them hy force,
the emperor is then said to have been advised hy Mar¬
co to consult his own safety, and break the power of
the Portuguese by artifice. With this view he sent
for the patriarch, pretended to be very sorry for his
frequent breach of promise, and desirous to make what
amends for it he could. Instead of complying with the
patriarch’s demands, however, he first ordered his sub¬
jects to supply them with no provisions : then he stop¬
ped the mouths of the Portuguese by a considerable
quantity of gold, giving the patriarch himself a very
valuable present 3 adding to all this a large supply of
provisions; but at the same time taking proper me¬
thods to disperse their leaders into different parts of
the empire, so that they should find it impossible ever
to reunite in a body.
Such is the account given of this transaction hy the
Portuguese historians ; but that of Mr Bruce, who says
that he translated his from the Abyssinian annals, is
somewhat different. He only informs us, that the quar¬
rel betwixt the Portuguese and Abyssinians was in¬
flamed by the “ incendiary spirit of the brutish Ber¬
mudes : from reproaches they came to blows 3 and this
proceeded so far, that one night the Portuguese as¬
saulted the king’s tent, where they slew some and grie¬
vously wounded others.” The event, however, was,
that no absolute quarrel ever took place betwixt this
emperor and any of the Portuguese, excepting this pa¬
triarch, whom he was on the point of banishing to one
of the rocks used as prisons in Abyssinia. This was
dispensed with on the interposition of Caspar de Suza
the new Portuguese commander (who had succeeded
Arius Dias), and another named Kasmati Robel, both
of whom were in great favour with the emperor j and
3
S I N I A. 7r
Bermudes persuaded to withdraw to India. According Abyssinia,
to Mr Bruce he repaired to Dobarwa, where he re- ^ ■■■■■ y -j
mained two years quite neglected and forlorn, saying Bcrmudes
mass to no more than ten Portuguese who had settled |eav.es. A"
there after the defeat of Don Christopher. He then ^ &
went to ?;IasHah 3 and the wind soon becoming favour¬
able, lie embarked in a Portuguese vessel, carrying with
him the ten persons to whom he had officiated as priest,
from Goa he returned to Portugal, and continued there
till his death. On the other hand, the Portuguese
writers inform us, that he was narrowly watched by
order of the emperor 3 and that Caspar de Suza, the
Portuguese commander, had orders to put him to death
if he should attempt to make his escape. Bermudes,
however, being determined at all events, to make his
escape, pretended to he ill of the gout, and that a
change of air was necessary for his recovery 3 for which
reason he went to the town above mentioned, where
there was a monastery. On this pretence he was al¬
lowed to cross the kingdom of Tigre, accompanied by
eight faithful servants, with whom he reached Dobarwa
unsuspected. Here he remained concealed in a mona¬
stery for two years before he could find an opportunity
of getting to the island of Masuah, from whence he pro¬
ceeded to Goa.
The emperor was scarce freed from this troublesome A new de»
priest, when he was in danger of being involved in newPutation
difficulties by the intrusion of others into his dominions. J‘om ^
Ignatius Loyola, founder of the order of the Jesuits, °^e'
was at that time at Rome 3 and so much attached to
the cause of the pope, that he proposed to go in per¬
son to Abyssinia, in order to make a thorough conver¬
sion of both prince and people. His holiness, how¬
ever, who, from what he had already seen of Ignatius,
conceived that he might he of greater use to him by
staying in Europe, sent in his stead Nugnez Baretto,
one of the society of Jesuits, whom he invested with
the dignity of patriarch, and honoured with a letter to
Claudius. With these commissions, and a number of
priests, Baretto sailed for Goa in the East Indies 3 by
which, however distant, the only passage to Abyssinia
was at that time. On his arrival at that place he was
informed that the Abyssinian monarch had such a steady
aversion to the church of Rome, that there was no pro¬
bability of his meeting with a favourable reception.
For this reason it was judged more proper to send some
clergymen of inferior dignity, with proper credentials,
as ambassadors to the emperor from the governor of
India, without running the risk of having any affront
put upon the patriarch. These were Oviedo bishop of
Hierapolis, Carneyro bishop of Nice, and several others,
who arrived safely at Masuah in the year 1558. Clau¬
dius, on hearing of their arrival, was greatly pleased,
as supposing that a new supply of Portuguese soldiers
was arrived. Finding, however, that they were only
priests, he was very much mortified, but still resolved
to give them a civil reception. But a more important
consideration, and which concerned the welfare of the
empire in the highest degree, now claimed his atten¬
tion. This was the appointment of a successor to the
throne, Claudius himself having no son. A project pr,’nee
was therefore set on foot for ransoming Prince Menas, nasre-
the emperor’s youngest brother, who had been taken deemed
prisoner by the Moors in the time of David, and hi-^.°.ni taP'
therto detained in captivity on a high mountain in Adel. V1
This
ABYSSINIA.
This was not likely to be accomplished ; for the Moors
1 would not willingly part with one who they knew was
their mortal enemy, that he might be raised to the so¬
vereignty of » great empire. By detaining him pri¬
soner also, they might reasonably hope for disputes con¬
cerning the succession to the Abyssinian throne •, which
would enable them to attack the empire with advan¬
tage. In these circumstances, it is probable that Clau¬
dius would have found great difficulty in procuring his
brother’s liberty, had it not been that the son of the
famous Gragne had been taken in that battle in which
his father was killed, and in like manner confined on
a mountain in Abyssinia. A proposal was then made
to his mother, who had escaped into Atbara, that her
sou should have his liberty, provided the king’s brother
should be restored. This was accepted *, and by means
of the bashaw of Masuah, an exchange was made.
Tour thousand ounces of gold were given for the ran¬
som of Menas, which were divided between the Moors
and the bashaw of Masuah while on his part Claudius
set at liberty Ali Gerad the son of Gragne without any
farther demand.
According to Bermudes’s account of these times,
the widow of Gragne was taken prisoner at the battle
in which her husband was killed, and was afterwards
married to Arius Dias. In this case we must suppose
her to have been the same with the queen of Adel,
mentioned as his consort by other historians : but Mr
Bruce treats this account as a mere fable j and informs
us, that by means of Nur the son of Mugdid, murderer
of the royal family as already related, she made her
escape into Atbara. On that occasion Nur fell in love
with her •, but she refused to marry any man unless he
brought her the head of Claudius, who had killed her
former husband. To attain his wishes, therefore, Nur,
now governor of Zeyla, undertook the task } and when
Claudius marched towards Adel, sent him a challenge
to fight 5 telling him that there was yet a particular
instrument for shedding the blood of the Abyssinian
princes, and desiring him to be prepared, as he was
very soon to set out to attack him. The emperor did
not decline the combat, but is said to have been advised
against this expedition by all his friends. This advice
seems to have proceeded from a number of prophecies,
probably trumped up by the clergy, that he should be
unfortunate, and lose his life in the campaign. These
prophecies ought no doubt to have had weight with
him, as they most certainly indicated a spirit of dis¬
affection among his troops j and the event accordingly
Defeat and evinced that it was so. The Abyssinians fled almost
death of on the first fire, leaving the king in the midst of his
enemies, attended only by 18 Portuguese and 20 horse¬
men of Abyssinia, who continued faithful to the last.
AH these were killed after the most desperate resist¬
ance } the king himself receiving upwards of 20 wounds
before he fell. His head was cut off, and brought by
Nur to his mistress, who hung it up on a tree before
her door. Here it remained for three years, when it
was at last bought by an Armenian merchant, who
buried it at Antioch in the sepulchre of a saint of the
same name. Nur gained on this occasion a very com¬
plete victory *, the king and most of the principal
nobility being killed, a great number made pri¬
soners," and the camp taken with an immense booty.
On his return to Adel, he refused to accept of any
Nur deter
mines to
destroy
Claudius.
congratulations, or to allow rejoicings to be made for Abyssinia,
his victory, but passed along in the habit of a common v—J
soldier, mounted on an ass ; saying, that he owed the
victory to the mercy of God alone, who had imme¬
diately interposed for the destruction of the Christian
army.
This fatal engagement took place on the 22d of
March 1559 and as the succession had been already
settled, Menas ascended the throne without any oppo¬
sition. On his accession lie found his affairs in great Reign 01
confusion, and he had still to contend with foreign and Uenas*
domestic enemies. The first of these was Badaet the
king of the Jews, who had a terrutory in the empire of
Abyssinia, the capital of which w^as on a rock named
Samen. The cause of this quarrel is not known, hut
the event was unfortunate ; the king being obliged to
abandon the enterprise, after having bestowed a consi-
■derahle time upon it. Jhis was followed by an attempt
to assassinate him, which had very near taken place *,
and this again by a conspiracy among bis principal
nobles headed by Isaac the Babarnagash. He had been Baiiarna.
a very faithful servant of the late emperor Claudius jgash.
but ill used by Menas, who was of a very haughty and
morose disposition. In attempting to suppress this re¬
bellion, the first attempts of the emperor were likewise
ineffectual, his forces being attacked by surprise and
entirely defeated. Soon after this, Isaac proclaimed
Tascar, the nephew of Menas, who was then at liberty,
king of Abyssinia ) hoping thereby to strengthen his
cause, and enable him to cope with the emperor, who
was assembling a powerful army against him. This ex¬
pedient did not answer the purpose. His army was Hois de-
entirely defeated by Menas j Tascar taken prisoner, feated.
and thrown headlong from the top of a precipice j
and Isaac himself escaped with great difficulty to the
confines of his own government in the neighbourhood
of Masuah. Here he entered into an alliance with the
Turkish bashaw of Masuah 5 whose friendship he gained
by putting him in possession of the town of Dobarwa, Allies witli
with the flat country adjacent, which abounds with the t^,e
provisions wanted at Masuah, and is looked upon gUese.
the key to the province of Tigre and the high lands*
of Abyssinia. Besides this, Isaac strengthened himself
also by an alliance with the Portuguese j which, had
their number been at all considerable, must have been
very formidable. Their inclination to desert their for¬
mer protector and ally the emperor, proceeded entirely
from the shameful behaviour of their priests, who never
would be satisfied without enslaving the emperor as
well as his subjects to the tvranny of Rome. We haveReasonoS
, . . t-. , * « 1 .. r- (mar.
the empe
ror.
already seen that Bermudes had proceeded so far on
this subject, that, he narrowly escaped with his life. His
successor Oviedo (for the patriarch Nugnez died by the peror.
way) fared still worse. On his introduction to the
emperor Claudius, he informed him, that the pope and
king of Portugal now expected no less than an imme¬
diate fulfilment of his engagements of submission to the
see of Rome. This requisition was made with such an
air of insolence, that the prince could scarce conceal his
resentment; but restraining his passion, he promised to
consider of it, and to call meetings of the learned in
these matters to debate the point. This was a very
fruitless task ; and therefore Oviedo thought proper to
quit the court towards the end ot December 1558;
leaving behind him an insolent letter addressed to the
Portuguese
ABYSSINIA.
73
uountiUti.
s eom-
nanded to
eave the
Ahypslnia. Portuguese and such converts as they had made •, in
—-y——^ which he exhorted them not to converse with schisma¬
tics, and the Abyssinians to forsake their errors. Be¬
ing now debarred from access to the emperor, he be¬
gan to entertain the people with seditious discourses j
which practice he continued during the remaining part
of the reign of Claudius and the beginning of that of
Menas. The latter, perceiving the pernicious tenden¬
cy of his discourses, positively commanded him to de¬
sist } which the patriarch refusing, the emperor fell
upon him with his own hands, beat him severely, tore
his clothes and beard, and took his chalice from him
that he might thus be disabled from saying mass : after
)viedo ba-which he banished him, with Francis Lopez another
ashed to a0f jj[g associates, to a barren mountain, where they re¬
mained seven months in great misery. Not content
with this, he issued many severe edicts against the Por¬
tuguese ; prohibited them from intermarrying with the
Abyssinians ; and such of the Abyssinian women as
were already married to Portuguese husbands, he com¬
manded not to accompany them to their churches.
His next step was to call Oviedo again into his pre¬
sence, and command him, under pain of death, in-
mpire, but stantly to leave his dominions. The insolent and fool-
efuses. js|, priest refused obedience to this express command :
he declared that he would obey God rather than man *,
and presenting his hare necl£ to the emperor, desired
him to strike and put an end to his life at once. Menas
drew his sword, but was prevented by the queen and of¬
ficers who stood near him from giving the fatal stroke,
entence of ^ second beating and banishment to the mountain suc-
anishment cee(]e(j . anj in t|ie ]atter part of the sentence all the
11 the Por- Portuguese priests as well as others were included. 1 he
uguese, Portuguese, however, determined not to submit to such
vho there- an indignity j and therefore, to a man, joined Isaac ;
he rebels w^°> *n exPectation of more auxiliaries from India, pro¬
fessed a great desire of embracing the Romish religion.
The king was very apprehensive, and not without rea¬
son, of the arrival of more Portuguese ", but it appears
that Oviedo had not sufficient interest to procure the
saac again SUpply he promised. An engagement, therefore, took
place without them, in which Menas was again victori¬
ous j though the battle was not so decisive as to put an
end to the rebellion.
The emperor died a short time after his victory, and
was succeeded in 1563 by his son Sertza Henghel,
then only 12 years of age. The beginning of his
reign was disturbed by new rebellions ; which, however,
were happily suppressed. Isaac, with his allies the ba¬
shaw and the Portuguese, seems to have remaiued for
some time unmolested ; and in the year 1569, a kind of
accommodation took place. It is by no means easy to
say how the Portuguese were again received into fa¬
vour after such ^flagrant treachery and rebellion. Mr
Bruce only simply tells us that “ Oviedo and the Por¬
tuguese did not appear at court.” This indeed is not
to be wondered at, as they had been so lately at open
war with the emperor. Other accounts say, that after
the last battle with Isaac, “ their name became so odious
to all the Abyssinians, especially to their monarchs,
that they would never suffer any of them to be in their
army from that time.” Some of these accounts say
also, that Menas was defeated and killed in another
battle j others, that he was driven to some high moun¬
tains, where he wandered about till death put an end
Vql. I. Part I. f
lefeated.
teign of
rei’tza
Jeaffhel.
to his misery. Accounts of this kind, however, are Abyssinia,
by Mr Bi'uce treated as mere falsehoods, and expressly ——\
contradictory to the annals of those times. All we
can say upon the subject therefore is, that after the
defeat of Isaac, the Portuguese, not excepting Oviedo
himself, remained in Abyssinia, where they were more
favourably dealt with by the new emperor than they
had been by his father; though he was no friend to
their religion, as supposing it to be destructive of mo¬
narchy and all civil government. It is probable also,
that the various disturbances which happened, together
with his own tender age during the beginning of his
reign, would prevent him liom paying that attention
to them which he would otherwise have done. Thy
Galla, a very barbarous nation, and who have at last
greatly reduced the power of the Ethiopian monarchs,
made frequent inroads during this reign 5 and in the fsaac and
year 1576, a league was/formed by Mahomet king of1'10 ^shavv
Adel, with Isaac and the Turkish bashaw, who had ei-
ther continued their hostilities or renewed them about Adel;
this time. The emperor, however, marched with such
expedition, that he did not allow them time to join
their forces •, and attacking them separately, gained a but are ea.
complete victory over them all. Almost the whole t‘re'y c*e-
Moorish army was destroyed; but while the emperorfealet*"
entered Adel with a design to make a full end of his
enemies on the east, he received information that the
Galla had invaded his dominions on the west. Traver¬
sing the whole breadth of the empire therefore with the
utmost expedition, he came up with these enemies, who
were afraid to encounter him. On this he turned his The empe-
arms against the Falasha, obliging them to deliver up!
their king, whom he banished to a mountain. Then ^u<. courury
invading the country of the Galla and Falasha, he ra-oi the Gallat
vaged it for four years successively, protecting at the a'"1 i'ala-
same time the kingdom of Narea from the inroads of s'ia*
these barbarians.
While Sertza Denghel employed himself in repress¬
ing the incursions of the Galla, one Cadward Basha, a
Turkish officer of great valour and experience, who
had been invested with the office of bashaw of Masuah,
began to make inroads into the province of Tigre.Tigreinva-
The emperor hastened to oppose him ; but in his pas. ded by Cad-
sage committed great devastations in the country of the ^"avv !*a"
Falasha, in order to provoke them to descend from
their mountains and come to an engagement. These
Falasha prafess the Jewish religion, and were then go-King of the
verned by a king named Geshen. This monarch, pro-^a*a^la de-
voked at the ravages and destruction he beheld, de- aUti
scended with vast numbers of his subjects, in order to
revenge it; hut was killed and his army utterly de¬
feated by the Abyssinians, on the 19th of January
1594. The victorious Sertza then hastened to encoun¬
ter the bashaw; who, confident of the superiority of his
own troops, not only waiterl for him patiently, but gave
him every advantage he could desire. A very desperate
battle ensued ; the event of which was doubtful, till
Robel, commander of part of the king’s household,
troops, who were armed with pikes, attacked that part
of the Turkish horse where he saw the bashaw, and kill¬
ed the officer who carried the standard. In doing this
he broke his pike; but though then destitute of any The ba-
other weapon than a short crooked knife which the^aw^e*
Ahyssinians always carry in their girdles, he instantly ait
pushed up to the bashaw, and with it wounded him mor-
K .tally
74
Abyssinia
Death of
the empe¬
ror.
Two suc¬
cessors no¬
minated.
Jacob rais¬
ed to the
throng.
Deng',
hel raised
to the
throne.
A B Y S
tally in the throat. This unexpected event instantly
decided the victory } the Turkish horse betook them¬
selves to flight, and the rest of the army soon followed
their example. A dreadful slaughter ensued among
the Moors, who were pursued to the island Masuab j
and many were driven into the deserts, where they pe¬
rished with thirst. After this, marching back to the
western part of his territories, the emperor proceeded
to Nai ■ea, destroying the Galia as he went along. His
last expedition was towards Damot to chastise some re¬
bels there. Before he set out, a priest of great sancti¬
ty and talent for divination, is said to have warned him
not to undertake the war j but his advice was rejected
with contempt : on which he requested him only not
to eat the fish taken out of a certain river ; but this ad¬
vice was also neglected, and the fish being really of a
poisonous nature, the king died in consequence of eat¬
ing them.
On the death of Sertza Denghel a dispute ensued
about the succession. In the beginning of his sickness
the late king had named for his successor his son Jacob,
a boy of only seven years of age } but finding death
approaching, he named his nephew Za Denghel, as be¬
ing come to the years of manhood, and more fit for the
government of such a numerous and turbulent people.
This last resolution proved highly disagreeable to the
queen and some of the principal nobility, who wished
for a minority, during which they might engross the
power into their own hands. In conjunction with her
two sons-in-law, Kesla Wahad and Has Athanasius,
therefore, the empress determined to raise Jacob to the
throne, notwithstanding the final determination of the
late king above mentioned. This was put in execution
immediately after the death of Sertza Denghel ; Jacob
was raised to the throne, and Za Denghel confined in
an island of the lake Dembea or Tzana. An attempt
yvas likewise made to seize Socinios, natural son to Fa-
cilidas grandson of the unfortunate David, who had
likewise a claim to the throne •, for his not being born
of a lawful marriage was no objection in Abyssinia.
Socinios, however, no sooner saw the fate of his cousin
Za Denghel, than he withdrew himself from the power
of his enemies ; and Za Denghel himself, after being a
short time confined in the island above mentioned, found
means to escape, and took refuge among the inaccessi¬
ble mountains of Gojam.
Thus disappointed in their attempts on the princes,
the empress, with her two sons-in-law, were obliged
to pretend loyalty to Jacob, whom they governed till
lie was 17 years of age. The young king then, per¬
ceiving that his tutors were taking some steps to pro¬
long their dominion over him, took the government
into his own hands, and banished one Za Selasse, whom
they had employed in the execution of their projects,
to the kingdom of Narea. The conspirators, alarmed
at this bold exertion of royal prerogative, determined
instantly to depose Jacob, and raise Za Denghel, whom
they had banished, to the throne. This, however, was
now a matter of some difficulty, as he had concealed
himself so effectually among the mountains of Gojam,
that he could scarce be found out. His retreat being
at last discovered, Ras Athanasius took an opportunity
of insulting Jacob, even while sitting on the throne ;
called him an obstinate, stubborn, and foolish boy ;
declared him degraded from the imperial dignity, and
S I N I A.
that Za Denghel was coming to supplant him. Jacob Abyssinia,
perceiving, by the insolence of this speech, that he was v——v——J
entirely in the power of his enemies, left his palace in
the night, in order to fly to the mountains of Samen,
where his mother’s relations were, from whom he ex¬
pected protection. He got to the borders of that coun-^^1**"
try, but was there discovered, seized, and brought back
to his rival, who was now seated on the throne. Za
Denghel, however, with a clemency not very usual in
Abyssinia, did not either put him to death, or mutilate
him in such a manner as to render him incapable of af¬
terwards enjoying the kingdom 5 but contented himself
with banishing him for life to Narea.
Za Denghel was no sooner settled on the throne,
than he unluckily behaved in such a manner as to ali¬
enate the affections of his people from him entirely. Decline of
This was occasioned by his attachment to the church ofd^Romhb
Rome. Ever since the time that the Portuguese had^^T]
joined Isaac the Baharnagash, the entrance into Abyssi¬
nia had been shut up by the Turks, so that no new mission¬
aries could have access 5 and all those who came with
Oviedo being dead, the Romish religion had languished
for want of preachers to support it. The last of these
died in 15965 and all the rest havings been dead some
time before, little could be expected from the labours
of a single person. Next year Melchior Sylvanus, a
vicar of the church at Goa, was sent on a mission to
Abyssinia 5 being supposed to be a proper person for this
work, on account of his language and complexion which
might baffle the vigilance of the Turks. He entered
without being suspected ; but the great defeat given the
Turks by Sertza Denghel, already mentioned, had re¬
duced their power so much, that less danger now at¬
tended this expedition than formerly, and other mis¬
sionaries quickly followed.
The most learned, as well as best qualified for p9ter Pae?
the undertaking in every respect, was Peter Baez, who restores it.
came to this country in the year 1600; and on his ta¬
king upon him the whole charge of the mission, Sylva¬
nus returned to India. The new missionary did not at
first affect to intrude himself on the emperor; hut ta¬
king up his residence at the convent of Fremona in the
province of Tigre, he first applied to the study of the
learned language of the Abyssinians called Geex, and in.
which their hooks are usually written. In this he made
such progress as quickly to surpass the natives them¬
selves ; after which he set up a school, where the chil¬
dren of the Portuguese and Abyssinians were taught
promiscuously. The progress made by his scholars was
so great, that he was spoken of at court, and recommen¬
ded in the warmest terms to the emperor Jacob before
his deposition. On this he was sent for, and appeared^6 amves
before the court in 1604; where, to the great dissatis-at c*ult‘
faction of the Abyssinian monks, he received such ho¬
nours as are usually bestowed on men of the first quali¬
ty. Next day, in a dispute before the king, two of his
scholars, whom he had brought along with him, fairly
vanquished the best theologians that could be found to
oppose them. Mass was then said in the Romish man¬
ner ; and this was followed by a sermon, which in the
purity and elegance of its diction (whatever the sub¬
stance might he) excelled any thing that had ever been
composed in the Abyssinian language.
Though Paez had been called to court by Jacob, yet
Za Denghel was on the throne before he arrived, and
it
ABYSSINIA. 75
it tvas he who witnessed the dispute and heard the ser- The news of Za Denghel’s death were received with Abyssinia.
tholic reli-
gion.
His impru¬
dent con¬
duct occa¬
sions a re¬
bellion.
j mon. He was so much charmed with the latter, that
The empe- he instantly resolved to embrace the religion of the
ror embra- church of Rome j which resolution he soon after com-
fc!i^t,j.a'niunicated to several of his friends, and even to Paez
himself j but under an oath of secrecy. The empe¬
ror’s own zeal, however, rendered this oath of no
use ; for in a little time he issued proclamations for¬
bidding the observation of the Jewish Sabbath, and
wrote letters to Pope Clement VIII. and Philip III.
of Spain, desiring a supply of mechanics to instruct
his people in the useful arts, and Jesuits to teach them
religion.
This precipitate conduct had the effect which might
have been expected. The Abyssinians were generally
disaffected to the church of Rome, and no pains had
been taken to gain them over : they were also turbu¬
lent, savage, and rebellious: ever ready to revolt j and
now had a favourable opportunity of excusing their
treasons upon pretence of zeal for religion. This op¬
portunity was quickly made use of by Za Selasse,
whom, as we have already mentioned, Jacob had ba¬
nished 5 but who, on the advancement of Za Denghel,
The empe- ]la(} probably been set at liberty. This traitor having
municated" many seditious meetings in private, prevailed
on the Abuna, or Abyssinian patriarch, to excommuni¬
cate the king, and absolve his subjects from their al¬
legiance. He then set out for the territory of Gojam,
where the people had always been remarkable for their
aversion to the church of Rome. In this place, there¬
fore, he found no difficulty in raising an army to fight
An army against his sovereign. Za Denghel, who was an ex-
^ainst him Per^ warrior, did not fail to go in quest of him with
' w'hat forces he could raise ; but soon found, by the
great desertion among his troops as he passed along,
how much the excommunication pronounced by the
Abuna had availed. This was so alarming, that. John
Gabriel, an experienced Portuguese officer, advised
him to decline an engagement for the present, and
take shelter in some fortress until his subjects should
return to a sense of their duty. This salutary advice
was rejected, from the absurd notion that it was a dis¬
honour not to fight a rebel who had defied his sove¬
reign. In the beginning of the engagement, victory
seemed to favour the royal cause. The Portuguese
carried every thing before them, and routed that wing
of the enemy which opposed them. In the other wing,
however, the cowardlvand treacherous Abyssinians de¬
serted their king, who was quickly surrounded by his
^^Sia')an*enemies, and left in a desperate situation. A body of
bis uoop* n°kility, with his own officers and domestics, attended
and killed, him, and fought desperately in his defence. Za Den¬
ghel himself, being an excellent horsemen, and admi¬
rably skilled in the use of arms, performed astonishing
feats of valour. At last he was thrown to the ground,
grievously wounded in the breast by a lance. Notwith¬
standing this, he instantly recovered himself, drew his
sword, and resisted his assailants so violently, that they
were fain to keep at a distance and annoy him with
missile weapons. In this situation he stood till almost
fainting with fatigue and loss of blood ; when the trai¬
tor Za Selasse, pushing up his horse violently against
him, threw him to the ground by a blow on the fore¬
head, and a multitude then rushing upon him he was
dispatched with many wounds.
such general indignation throughout the Abyssinian
empire, that the rebels durst not name any successor. IJ,.S death
As it seemed natural to think, however, that Jacob
would now be re-elected, messengers were dispatched
to acquaint him of his good fortune j but during this rhe empire
interval Socinios appeared, not as a candidate, but as claimed by
already in possession of the empire, and ready to sup- Soeimos.
port his rights by force of arms. His first step was
to let Ras Athanasius know his pretensions to the
throne, and desire his assistance with his army, pro¬
mising to reward him as soon as it should be in his
power. Without waiting for any answer, he advanced
so rapidly, that Athanasius had scarce time to consider
what he should reply, when a second message was sent,
importing that Socinios was in the neighbourhood, and
ordering preparations to be made for receiving him as
his sovereign. This expeditious mode of action so
much confounded Athanasius, that he complied with
the requisitions, saluting him king, and joining his
troops to his. Thus successful in his first attempt, So¬
cinios made a similar one on Za Selasse. In this, how¬
ever, he was disappointed. Za Selasse having first
sent an equivocal answer, marched against him with
his whole army; while Socinios, happening to fall
sick, and putting little confidence in Athanasius, with¬
drew to the mountains of Amhara. Athanasius like- He is ob-
wise, not knowing to whom he should attach himself,'Igcd to re¬
withdrew his forces, and stood neuter.
Za Selasse had refused to join Socinios, in expecta¬
tion that Jacob would make his appearance, whom he
rather wished to enjoy the crown than Socinios $ as
under the former he might hope to engross all the
power to himself. For a long time, however, no an¬
swer was returned to his messages j his troops became
impatient 5 so that fearing lest a mutiny or general de¬
sertion should take place, he dispatched a messenger to
Socinios, acknowledging him for emperor. But scarce
was this done, when a messenger arrived from Jacob,
informing him that he was then in Dembea, and pro-*Jatjob set
mising Za Selasse great honours if he would acknow-
ledge him for his sovereign. With these terms theym<
traitor instantly complied, and his example was fol¬
lowed by Athanasius ; while Socinios, not as yet able
to resist all his enemies, retired again to Amhara.
This, however, he was not long of accomplishing.
J^cob was by no means possessed of equal military skill j
and though Za Selasse was an experienced officer, yet
his extreme perfidy, pride, and obstinacy, rendered it
very dangerous to have any concern with him. This
appeared remarkably in the present case. His pride i5a(j con_
in the first place would not allow him to join his forces duct and
to those of Jacob, lest the latter, who was inferior Jndefeat of
military skill, should have a share in the victory he was
to gain. Then, intoxicated with his opinion of him-^ai. S °e
self, he neglected to behave with the caution necessary
in the neighbourhood of such an experienced general
as Socinios, which gave the latter an opportunity of
cutting off almost his whole army. Being now obliged
to fly with a few attendants to Jacob’s camp, he met
with an indifferent reception on account of his defeat ;
for which reason he made proposals to join Socinios.
The latter accepted his offer, though lie could put no
confidence in one who had been guilty of such com¬
plicated treachery; only he thought it would be an
K 2 advantage
ABYSSINIA.
76
Abyssinia, advantage to put it out of his power to join his anta-
' v ' gonist. Jacob, on the other hand, confident in his
Jacob de- numbers, which are said to have been almost 30 to 1,
IdMcil1 and advanced boldly to give his antagonist battle. Soci-
nios declined the engagement till he had drawn him
into a situation where his forces could not act with ad¬
vantage. A dreadful carnage ensued, Jacob himself
perished among the multitude, and his body was
never afterwards found. In this battle also was killed
the wicked priest Abuna Petros, who was the occasion
of Za Denghel’s death, as we have already related.
Has Athanasius escaped by the swiftness of his horse,
and took refuge in a neighbouring monastery. He
was afterwards pardoned at the intercession of Peter
Paez ; but his goods and estate being confiscated on
various occasions, he fell into universal contempt, was
abandoned by his wife, and died at last of want. Ac¬
cording to the Abyssinian accounts, Socinios ordered
the pursuit to be stopped as soon as he saw the head of
Abuna Petros 5 but the Portuguese writers inform us,
that he kept it up with the utmost vigour throughout
the whole day and part of the night. They particular¬
ly mention, that a number of Portuguese, who had join¬
ed the army of Jacob, lost their lives on this occasion,
by falling over a precipice which they could not avoid
in the dark. One of these, named Manual Gonsalve'X,^
bad the good fortune to light on a tree, wThere he sat
till morning in great terror, but at last was relieved and
made his escape.
By this victory Socinios was fully established on the
throne, though his situation might still be accounted
precarious by reason of the rebellious disposition of
many of the provinces. He began with making a ge¬
neral proclamation of pardon, excepting only the mur¬
derers of Za Denghel, with whom he had been in terms
of intimate friendship. Being informed therefore, that
one Mahardin, a Moor, had given him the first wound
in that battle in which he was killed, he ordered his
head to be instantly struck oil' with an axe before the
gate of the palace.
Socinios fa- The Portuguese were much favoured by this prince *,
yours the an(} they were become very numerous by continual in-
lortugucse. j.ei,maiTjages the Abyssinians ; the male children
were always trained to the use of fire arms by their
parents, and incorporated as soldiers with them ■, and
they were now all united in one body under an expe¬
rienced officer named John Gabriel, whom we have al¬
ready had occasion to mention. As their numbers and
valour made them objects of consideration, Socinios
determined to attach them to himself as much as pos¬
sible *, and the best means to do this he knew was by
favouring their priests. Peter Paez was therefore sent
for to court 5 where a dispute concerning the supre¬
macy of the pope and the two natures of Christ (the
great subjects of debate in Abyssinia), took place, and
a sermon was preached w'ith as great success as that in
He resolves Za Denghel’s time. The king first enlarged the ter-
the^’atho6 r^01T Possessed by the Jesuits at Fremona } after which
lie relMon. declared to Paez his resolution of embracing the
0 Catholic religion ; giving him at the same time two
letters, one to the king of Portugal, the other to the
pope, the purport of which was to request a number of
more Portuguese to deliver Abyssinia from the incur¬
sions of the Galla, as they had formerly done from the
yoke of the Moors.
Before any thing of importance could he done in Abyssinia,
matters of religion, the king was called forth to sup- 1—-v—
press a rebellion which had already taken place. An An impos-
impostor had appeared, who called- himself Jacob the
late king, and pretended to have escaped from thethg]ate®
battle 5 but so much wounded in the face that he kepteniper0r
one side of it constantly covered to conceal the defor-Jacob ap-
mity. He made his appearance among the mountainsPears*
of Habab near Masuah 5 and being joined by great
numbers of people, Sela Christos, brother to the king,
and governor of Tigre, marched against him. The Is defeated,
impostor’s troops, though numerous, fled at the first
onset ; but he escaped to the mountains, where it was
very difficult to follow him. This, however, was at¬
tempted j and a great many of the posts he had taken,
were stormed like as many forts 5 but still the impos¬
tor himself, though driven from place to place, found
means to make good his retreat to the country lying
between the mountains of Habab and the territory of
the Baharnagash. Thither he was pursued by Sela
Christos \ but that general, finding the rebellion likely
to spread through the whole province of Tigre, thought
proper now to acquaint his brother Socinios with the
state of affairs, and to desire his assistance. The king,
though at that time he had sent away most of his troops
in an expedition against the Shangalla and Gongas,
who dwelt on the north-west of Abyssinia, set out im¬
mediately with such troops as he could collect. These
were but few in number j his cavalry, particularly,
amounting to no more than 530, besides a small rein¬
forcement brought by his brother Emana Christos, go¬
vernor of Amhara. As he proceeded, he was inform¬
ed that a party of Galla were lodged on a hill at no
great distance from him. Determining to cut them off,
he surrounded the hill where they were posted j but
having caused his cavalry to advance before, and pass
a deep ravine, they were almost entirely destroyed,
while the rest of the army were seized with such a
panic that they refused to stir. In this extreme dan¬
ger, the Galla passed the ravine to attack them : but
the king having advanced singly, and killed the first of
them, his troops, ashamed of their cowardice, rushed
forward on the enemy, and gained a complete victory, The Gaik
which obliged the savages to leave the province they c^e^eatc^‘
infested at that time.
The misfortune of the cavalry on this occasion
quickly occasioned a report that the king had been
defeated j of which the impostor Jacob did not fail to
take advantage ; and descending from his mountains,
committed great devastations in the low country. But The impe-
though attended by a great multitude, who likewiseslor.Jaceb
fought with more obstinacy than formerly, he was still
defeated by Sela Christos with a force greatly inferior. a C
But before any thing effectual could be done for his
reduction, the Galla made a dreadful irruption into
the southern provinces, murdering all who fell into their
hands, and burning and destroying towns, churches,
and villages, in the most dreadful manner. The king
bore those excesses for some time with patience, till at
last he drew them into ouch a disadvantageous situa¬
tion, that being surrounded by his forces, and inferior
in number as well as in valour, they were all cut off An army oij
to a man, with the loss of only 400 on the part of Galhi cut
the Abyssinians. Soon after this victory the kingun-ofl‘
derwent the ceremony of coronation. He then march-
ed
assassina¬
ted.
Tjangerous
rebellion
begun by
Melchize-
dec.
Defeats one'
A B Y S
Abyssinia, against the impostor Jacob ; but the latter was
s——Y—^ too sensible of the superiority of his rival to lace
him in the field. He therefore retired again to his
mountains, while the king left the suppression of the
rebellion to an experienced officer named Amsala
The impos-Christos j who employed two young men, who had
ter Jacob {jeen outlawed for murder, to assassinate the impostor.
This being done, it was found that the pretended
Jacob was no other than a herdsman among those
mountains to which he so constantly fled for refuge }
and that he had neither wound nor scar on his face,
but had kept one half of it covered to conceal the lit¬
tle resemblance he bore to Jacob whom he personated.
The king being now freed from this rebellion, began
again to turn his thoughts towards religion. His first
step wras to make a handsome present to the Jesuits j
but he soon showed his inexperience in religious matters,
by attempting to reconcile the two contending parties
in his empire. Before he could see the lolly ol this
attempt, however, his attention -was called by a most
dangerous rebellion, which was begun by one Melchi-
zedec, a servant of the late Sertza Henghel, but a
man of great experience in war. He was first opposed
by Sanuda, a brave officer ; but being totally destitute
of troops, he was obliged to apply to the attendants ot
the king of Sennaar, who had been deposed by bis
subjects, and was at that time in Abyssinia, jhese
of the kina’s readily joined him; and a bloody battle ensued, in
generals. which Sanuda was so totally defeated, that he alone
had the good fortune to escape, and that grievously
wounded, his men being all killed on the spot. On
this misfortune Sociniossent his brother Emana Christos
with a considerable force to reduce the rebels. Mel-
chizedec finding himself opposed by such an able re-
neral, exerted himself to the utmost, in order to raise
a force sufficient to resist him ; and in this he succeed¬
ed so well, that his army soon struck terror into all
the neighbouring country, notwithstanding the pre-
Causcs Ar sence ant^ known valour of the king’s brother. A
so be pro- prince of the blood-royal, named At'^zo, was likewise
claimed found out and proclaimed king, in order to give some
**“£• sanction to the rebels; soon after which they boldly
marched to meet the royal army. The engagement
took place on the 9th of March 1611, and was fought
with great obstinacy on both sides j the advantage
even appeared for some time on that of the rebels j
till Emana Christos, perceiving that all was at stake,
pushed desperately forward to the place where Melchi-
zedec himself was. The latter seeing no probability
of avoiding a single combat, which he did not choose
to try, instantly turned his horse and fled j and the rest
Is defeated ^ie army 80011 followed his example. Melchizedec,
taken pri- ' however, did not much avail himself of this cowar-
soner, and dice } for he was closely pursued by the peasants, taken
prisoner, and executed as a traitor, together with se¬
veral of his principal officers. The fate of Prince Arzo,
whom, to support their cause, the rebels had proclaimed
king, is not known.
This victory, so far from extinguishing the spirit of
Hon «onti- rebellion, seemed to have inflamed it beyond all bounds :
sues. f01. news Were now received that the whole country
round the head of the Nile to the province of Tigre
had revolted ; so that there was a necessity for the im¬
mediate presence of the emperor himself j and even
this was insufficient, as the rebels were dispersed over
put to
death.
The rebel-
S I N I A. 77
such a large tract of territory. His two brothers, Abyssinia.
Emana and Sela Christos, were therefore both em- 1 y*—1
ployed against different rebel chiefs, while the king
marched against those who were most formidable. The Cruel man-
principle on which this war rvas carried on seems tonerofcar4
have been very cruel, viz. that of killing all the men,
and carrying off the women and children for slaves.
This was rigidly executed, first upon the inhabi¬
tants of a mountainous district named Gusman on the
Nile 5 though, at the intercession of the missionary Peter
Paez, the women and children, instead of being sold
for slaves, were given to the Jesuits to be educated in
the Cvtholic religion. The Gongas and Agows were
next attacked with equal success, and still greater cruel¬
ty 3 one of their tribes named Zalabassa, being almost
entirely exterminated : but this, instead of having any
good effect, seemed to multiply the rebels still more.
The Agows and Galla invaded the provinces in the
neighbourhood 3 and another impostor, whose true Amdo, an-
name was Amdo, but who pretended to be the unfor-ot'ler *m_
tunate emperor Jacob, appeared as a competitor f°i' po^u-d by
the crown. This last rebel proved much more formi-the Jews,
dable than any of the rest. He was indeed surprised
before he had time to collect any forces 3 but Gideon,
king of the Jews of Samen, having killed the guards
who watched him, set the impostor at liberty, and
supported his cause. Thus he soon collected a very
formidable army, with which he defeated and killed an
officer named Abram, who opposed him with a consi¬
derable force. This brought Socinios himself against
him, who instantly attacked the Jewish monarch Gi¬
deon, as being the principal support of his cause. As '^ar wiLh
the country of the Jews was naturally strong, and very ^J‘l'eon'
full of fortified places, the reduction of it was evidently
a very difficult task. The first place attacked was a
fortress named Massiraba ; which, though very strongly
fortified and garrisoned, was soon taken by storm, and
every one in it put to the sword without distinction.
Hotchi and Amba Za Hancasse, two other strong for¬
tresses, shared the same fate. A fourth, named Senga-
nat, no less strong than any of the former, was also
taken 3 Gideon himself narrowly escaping with his life
in the attack. Discouraged therefore by so many mis¬
fortunes, and apprehending the total ruin of his coun¬
try, this prince at last was content to sue for peace5
which was granted on condition that Amdo should be
delivered up. This traitor was condemned to a pn-
nishment very unusual among Christians, viz. that °fandpuu-w
being crucified 3 but in nailing him to the cross, his death,
cries and groans so much affected the king, that he
ordered him to be taken down and beheaded.
The war was now resumed against the Gongas and
Cuba 3 whom the king annually invaded for the pur¬
pose of making slaves. In this expedition his officers Other mili-
not only executed their commission against these sa-tary expe-
vages, but likewise carried oft’a great number of cattle clitlons‘
from the Agows, who were then at peace with the
emperor. This conduct was highly resented by Soci¬
nios, who obliged them to make restitution of what
they had taken away 3 and the doing them justice in
this particular, had more effect in reducing the rest of
these people to obedience, than all the cruelti'eS which
had been committed since the beginning of the war.
In 1616, the emperor set out on an expedition a-
gainst the Galla : but this was laid aside on the death
cf
78
ABYSSINIA.
ed.
Abyssinia, of liis eldest son, for whom he entertained a great af-
'—--v-—' fection. It was succeeded by a very cruel order
The Jews agaJnst the Jews, whom Socinios now determined to
exterminate without any apparent occasion. His com¬
mands, however, were executed with the utmost punc¬
tuality, so that very few escaped •, and among the rest
perished their prince Gideon lately mentioned. He
was supposed to be immensely rich, and to have con¬
cealed his riches, which have been sought for in vain
by the Abyssinians from that time to the present. 1 he
children of the murdered Jews were sold for slaves ;
and such of the profession as were scattered through
the empire, had orders to renounce their religion and
be baptized, under pain of death. Thus almost the
whole Jewish religion was extinguished at once, as most
of them chose rather to embrace Christianity than suf¬
fer death. In token of the sincerity of their conver¬
sion, they were all ordered to plough and harrow on
the Sabbath day.
expedition After this massacre, the expedition against the Gal-
agalnst the was resumed, and carried on with the usual cruelty :
Galla. while the Galla never once appeared to prevent the
desolation of their country. Next year, however, a
new association was made among these savages, and
the empire invaded by them in two different parts at
once. One of their armies was cut off to a man be¬
fore they had time to begin their ravages ; while the
other fled on the lirst approach of the royal army, leav¬
ing their wives, children, and baggage, to the mercy
of the enemy. Thus the king was left for a short time
at rest from rebellions or foreign invasions ; and this
interval he determined to make use of in making war
"iCav ryith on jjjs neighbour the king of Sennaar, from whom he
Sonnaar, formerly received an affront. In this expedition
he was assisted by one Wed Ageeb, a prince of the
Arabs, who lived on the frontiers of Abyssinia. The
allies proceeded with their usual cruelty, killing all the
men, and selling the women and children for slaves.
Vast numbers of cattle were carried off 5 and the vic¬
torious armies returned with an immense booty. The
next expedition was against Fatima queen of the Shep¬
herds, otherwise called queen of the Greeks, who resided
on the north-east of Atbara. In this also the king
proved successful, though less blood was shed than
usual: but it was not long before this extraordinary
Success met with a severe check by the entire loss of
an Abyssinian army •, the favourite son of the emperor
himself being killed in the engagement, with some of
the best officers in the empire.
Progress of -A-11 tllis time Pete1' Pae7- !iad aPPlied himself with
the Romish the utmost assiduity to the conversion of the Abyssi¬
nians to the Catholic faith 5 and in this undertaking
he had been attended with wonderful success. He was
indeed singularly qualified for an undertaking of this
kind among a rude and barbarous people : for besides
an uncommon share of learning, he possessed an emi¬
nent degree of skill in the mechanical arts $ by which
he was enabled to teach the Abyssinians how to build
houses of stone and lime, which they had never known
before. In these he was at first mason, carpenter,
smith, and architect himself j and thus, to the astonish¬
ment of the whole empire, he buijt some churches
and a palace for the king. His universal genius
prepared the people for the reception of his opini¬
ons j while the barbarous ignorance and savage man¬
3
religion
Excellent
character
of Peter
Paez.
ners of his antagonists tended to prejudice every one Abyssinia,
against their tenets, though ever so just in themselves, i—
Sela Christos, the king’s brother, is said to have been
converted by only reading the Abyssinian books with
attention j in which, it seems, the ignorance of the
priests had been displayed in an extraordinary manner.
We have already seen how well the emperor himself
was disposed towards the Romish church ; and his ex¬
ample was followed by many of the principal people
of the kingdom. At last the Abyssinian patriarch,
named Simon, made a complaint that irregularities in
religion had been committed, and disputes held on
matters of faith, without calling, him, or permission
granted him, to support the clergy in these controver¬
sies. As Socinios bad no high opinion of this priest’s
learning or eloquence, he did not imagine that any
harm could ensue to the cause from granting what he
wanted. A public dispute was accordingly appointed j
in which Simon’s inferiority was so apparent, that So¬
cinios now publicly declared his belief in the two na¬
tures of Christ.
While the conversion was in this prosperous way, Letters
letters arrived from the pope and king of Spain, from the
but without any promise of the temporal assistance P°Pe a”ct
which had been solicited j though they assured him gj^0
of an ally far superior, the Holy Spirit himself, pro¬
vided the emperor continued firm in his resolutions of
embracing the Catholic faith. Socinios would pro-Determines
bably have been as well satisfied with an account of atesuL,™1J;t0
reinforcement of soldiers j but as matters stood, he wasl ie p0l>e*
obliged to be content, and resolved to submit in form
to the pope, renouncing for ever his connexion with
the Greek church. As it was improper, however, to
send letters on a subject of such importance by a com¬
mon messenger, proper persons were to be appointed
who might occasionally assume the character of am¬
bassadors, and act accordingly. This being resolved
on, the next thing was to determine the way by which
the ambassadors were to reach Europe. The usual
track by Masuah was now shut up on account of the
rebellion which existed in the neighbouring provinces j
so that the more eligible way seemed to be through
Narea and the provinces to the southward, by which
they might reach Melinda, and from thence embark
for Goa.
The ambassadors were chosen by lot ; which falling Ambassa-
first on Antonio Fernandez, he named Fecur Egzie^ors set out
as his companion •, and, all things being settled, theseioi ^ur0Pe’
two set out for Gojam in the beginning of March
1613. It seems surprising that the Abyssinian mo¬
narch should have sent ambassadors on such a danger¬
ous expedition through barbarous countries, without
being accompanied by a proper guard. This, however,
seems undoubtedly to have been the case 5 as wre hear
of no other attendants than ten Portuguese, whom
Fecur Egzie took with him, six of whom were to go
no farther than Narea, but the other four were to pro¬
ceed to India : forty men armed with shields and
javelins were also granted, but this force was much
too small to answer any useful purpose. Sela Christos
indeed furnished them with gmdes from the barbar¬
ous nations in the neighbourhood of Narea, taking
hostages for the security of the travellers 5 but the in¬
sufficiency of these precautions soon appeared. Oui Account of
travellers had proceeded but two days journey into the their jour-
country
ABYSSINIA.
Abyssinia, country of the Congas, when they were treated in
 such a hostile manner, that one of the Portuguese was
obliged to return with Fernandez to complain of the
treatment of the savages. On this information Bela
Christos instantly dispatched three officers, with a pro¬
per number of troops, to chastise them 5 by which means
the ambassadors got safe to Mine, tiie name of some
miserable villages on a ford of the Nile. Here they
crossed the river on skins blown up, and next day en¬
tered the country of the Pagan Galla ; and soon after,
though not without great difficulty, they reached the
kingdom of Narea, the most southerly province of the
Abyssinian empire, but quite surrounded by the Galla.
Here they were received with great kindness by the
commanding officer of the first fortified place they came
to; but on being introduced to the king himself, they
met with a very different reception. This was owing
to the insinuations of an Abyssinian monk, that they
were to bring Portuguese soldiers that way into Abys¬
sinia ; which would be destructive to his kingdom. On
calling a council, it was resolved to send them into the
kingdom of Bali ; so that they would be obliged to
pass through a much more difficult and dangerous road
than what was first intended. Having thus, as lie sup¬
posed, provided against the danger which threatened
his kingdom, lie made them a present of 50 pieces of
gold, recommending them at the same time to the am¬
bassador from the sovereign of Gingiro, through which
they were next to pass.
On leaving Narea, they received a convoy of 80 sol¬
diers to conduct them safely to their next stage ; after
which they passed four days through countries totally
laid waste by the Galla, and where they were obliged
to hide themselves for fear of meeting with these sa¬
vages. Proceeding still through woods and vast chains
of mountains, they came to the river Zebee, or more
properly Kibbee, from its white colour resembling melt-
>f the river et^utter’as t^16 'vortl imports. Fernandez describes
£ebee. this river as larger than the Nile, and vastly more ra¬
pid. They passed it by a kind of bridge, but certainly
a most tremendous one. The channel of the river is full
of rocks ; and betwixt every two of these a single tree was
laid, so elastic that it would bend with the weight of
one person ; while the vast height of the precipice, and
the sight of the roaring current below, was sufficient to
strike the boldest with terror. At a small distance from
this bridge was a ford, through which it was necessary
that their mules should pass ; which being accomplish¬
ed without any accident, though with difficulty and
danger, they entered the territory of Gingiro. Here
they were hospitably received by the sovereign, and
after a mutual exchange of presents proceeded to San-
gara, the capital of another small kingdom named Com¬
bat, which was at this time governed by a Moor named
Amelmal. During the time of their residence hex*e, one
Manquer, a schismatic Abyssinian, arrived, who insi¬
nuated to the king that the recommendations they had
brought along with them were false. This reduced
them to the necessity of staying there till messengers
could be sent to Socinios to know whether it was so or
not; which occasioned a delay of three months. At
last orders were brought to send them off immediately.
This favourable answer procured the dismission of the
ambassadors with presents ; while the malicious Man-
quer was detained prisoner. He escaped, however, and
79
overtook them in the next kingdom, named Aloha, Abyssinia*
whicn was governed by a Moor named Aliko. Here v—
he accused them of a design to overturn the Mahome¬
tan religion altogether: which so exasperated the bar¬
barian, that he threatened them all with death ; and
actually put them in prison, where some of the Portu¬
guese died. At last, after holding a council, in which Hie ambas-
Manquer gave his voice for putting them to death, itsadortiare
was resolved that they should be sent back to Amelmal; ob.iiged t0
which was accordingly done, and from his dominions ^
they returned to Abyssinia. Thus ended this memo¬
rable embassy, by which the pope was deprived of any
authentic documents which might show that, any Abys¬
sinian emperor had ever voluntarily submitted to him •
and there can be no doubt that this miscarriage, more
than any thing else, prevented the establishment of
Popery in this country.
Socinios had now gone so far in favour of the Ca-A number
thohe party, that lie began to share in some measure 0^rebel-
the fate of Za Denghel ; numberless conspiracies beingiionson ac"
formed against him, which it was undoubtedly owingf™"1 ^re'
only to the altered situation of affairs by the preaching lol°n’
and assiduity of Peter Paez, that he was able to with¬
stand. The conspirators were at this time supported,
not only by the Abuna, but by Emana Christos him¬
self, the king’s brother, whom we have frequently had
casion to mention. Their first step was the very
occasion to mention. Their first step was the very
same which had been so successfully taken by Za Selasse
in the time of Za Denghel, viz. to pronounce sentence
of excommunication on the emperor. He was at that The Abuna
time absent on an expedition against the Agows; butexoommu-
returned immediately on hearing what was transacted n‘cates the
in his absence; informing the Abuna, that if he did emPP'or>
notrecal the excommunication without delay, his head S toS
should pay the forfeit. This spirited declaration had draw his
such an effect, that the anathema was annulled, and the sentence,
conspiracy dissolved for that time. It was next resol-Attempt
ved between Emana Christos the king’s brother, Ju-to assassi-
lius Ins son-in-law, and Kefla AY a had master of (bg^atethe.
household, to assassinate the king in his palace. fp0emPcror‘
accomplish this purpose it was concerted that they
should desire an audience ; that Julius should enter
first, and present a petition of such a nature as would
probably be refused : on this he was to begin an alter¬
cation ; and during the continuance of it the other two
assassins were to come up, and stab their sovereign be¬
fore he had time to put himself in a posture of defence.
Happily for Socinios, however, he was informed of
his danger by a page just before Julius made his ap¬
pearance : on which, instead of refusing the petition
he granted it immediately ; so that there was no room
for dispute. He then got up to walk ; which was
scarce done Emana Christos also came; on which
Socinios invited them all to the terrace to walk with
him. This prevented their falling upon him at that
moment; and as they supposed they would have still a
better opportunity on tiie terrace, they readily consent¬
ed. But Socinios having opened a private door, atr
which he entered first, drew it quickly after him ; and^T^
as this door had a spring-lock made by Peter Paez,
which shut it in the inside, but could not be opened
from without, the conspirators were disappointed. Be¬
ing also sensible that their design had been discovered.,
they were obliged for some time to keep at a distance,
but did not for that reason abandon their wicked pro¬
jects.
g0 ABYSS
. . :ectSt Their next scheme was to be put in execution
. w[jen the king was absent on an expedition against the
The rebel- people of Sennaar, who had made a violent irruption
lious spirit into the Abyssinian territories. The object now was not
of the con- ^ assassination 0f the emperor, but of his brother Sela
continaes. Christos j because the emperor had taken the govern¬
ment of Gojam from Emana Christos, who was a schis¬
matic, to give it to Sela Christos, who was a violent
Julius the Catholic. The enterprise was begun by Julius j who
emperor’s isguetl a proclamation, that all those who believed two
first'appears natures in Christ should leave the province of Tigre,
in arms. where he was governor j and that such as were true
' friends to the Alexandrian faith should repair to his
standard to fight for it. He then ordered the goods of
all the Catholics in Tigre to be confiscated j and march¬
ed without delay into Gojam, in hopes to surprise Se¬
la Christos. But here the whole scheme was baffled
by the vigilance and activity of the emperor 5 for he
having received information of what was going for¬
ward,0 returned into that province before the conspi¬
rators had received certain intelligence of his having
left it. This so much damped the ardour of Emana
Is deserted Christos and Kefla Wahad, that they stood aloof with-
by his asso- out attempting any thing till Julius should try his for-
eiates, tune. That rebel was at first very much disconcerted 5
hut soon recovering his courage, advanced to the place
where the Nile issues out of the lake of JDembea, wheie
he met with the Abuna. Being confirmed by that
priest in his wicked designs, he resolved, by his ad¬
vice, to fall upon the king before he could he joined
by Sela Christos, Simon himself (the Abuna) offering
to share his fortune: and to confirm all, a new and
Socinios ex- solemn excommunication was pronounced against the
* king and all his adherents. Socinios, alarmed at these
cond time* proceedings, sent a message to Sela Christos, desiring
him to come to his assistance as fast as possible. In the
mean time he himself advanced to meet Julius j but
chose his posts so judiciously, that he could not be for¬
ced to an engagement without great disadvantage on
the part of the enemy. Notwithstanding this, Julius
pitched his camp close to that of the king, with a de¬
sign to force him to a battle at all events. I his rash
action rvas followed by one still worse. Simon had
persuaded him, that as soon as the royal army should
see him, they would abandon the standard of the em-
Raslmess Peror to j0^"1 *1's* tl"S’ w^10ut fart^er considera-
and death tion, he rushed into the camp of Socinios with a very
of Julius, few attendants, and reached the emperor’s tent. Here
he was known by the guards, and instantly dispatched
with all his followers 5 the whole army betook them¬
selves to flight after his death, and were pursued with
great slaughter by the royalists. The plunder of the
camp was immense, Julius having brought all his riches,
which he had amassed by a long course of extortion,
into the field along with him j and all of these were
distributed among the soldiers. A vast number of
cattle were likewise taken, which Socinios distributed
F. aana among priests, judges, and lay-officers. By this
Christos complete victory the whole scheme of the conspirators
taken, but was overthrown. Emana Christos having no forces
pardohed. capable of coping with his brother, and unwilling, as
we have said, to assist Julius openly, had retired to a
high mountain named Melca Amba, in the territory of
Gojam. Here he was invested by Af Christos, an ex¬
perienced general, whom Sela Christos had left gover-
I N I A.  
nor when he joined the emperor. Emana, who was Abygsini*.
likewise an expert commander, would have made a vi-' y—^
gorous defence ; but unfortunately the mountain was
so destitute of water, that in three days he was deli¬
vered up by his own men, to save themselves from pe¬
rishing with thirst. On being brought to the king, he
was tried in a full assembly of judges, and condemned
to death 5 but the king pardoned and sent him to Am-
hara.
This terrible conspiracy had been occasioned by the
dispute concerning the two natures of our Saviour :
another quickly followed on account of the dis¬
pute concerning the Sabbath-day j the Abyssinian
church insisting on the observance of the seventh day
of the week as a Sabbath, and the llomish church on
the observance of the first day. Hie author of this Another re I
rebellion was one Jonael, who had been concerned inbe'lion by j
the expedition formerly mentioned, in which the A-Jonael,
gows cattle were driven away, and afterwards restored
by the king. It is more than probable that his re¬
sentment on this account contributed much to increase
his zeal on the present occasion j but whatever was the
real cause, religion was the sole pretence. He began
with a most insolent but anonymous letter to the
king j in which the arguments of the Alexandrians
for the observance of the Jewish Sabbath were stated,
and the contrary doctrine condemned with the utmost
virulence of expression. The king himself was reviled
in the most opprobrious manner, compared to another
Dioclesian, the Jesuits said to be relations of Pontius
Pilate, and all of them devoted to hell without re¬
demption. By this stupid performance the king was
so much offended, that he added a clause to the
former proclamation, commanding that “ all out-door
work, such as plowing and sowing, should be publicly
followed by the husbandmen on the Saturday, under
penalty of paying a web of cotton cloth for the first
omission, the value of the cloth to be 5s. ; the se¬
cond offence to be punished by a confiscation of move¬
ables, and the offence not to be pardoned for seven
years.” To this Socinios added a speech from the
throne in vindication of himself, concerning the part
he had taken in religious matters ; and to show that
he was in earnest, caused the tongue of a monk to be
cut out for denying the two natures of Christ, and
one of his generals to be whipt for observing the Jewish
Sabbath.
In the mean time Jonael having collected what for¬
ces he could, openly declared against his sovereign ;
but not daring to meet him in the field, he retired in¬
to the country of the Galla, on hearing that Socinios
was approaching him with an army. On this the king
entered their territories, and laid them waste j which
created a dissension among the savages themselves j one
party being for affording him protection, the other
for delivering him up. This being made known to ife is mar
the king, he sent a few presents to the faithless barba-dered by
rians of Jonael’s party j who returned his kindness by Lllc t‘alla
sending him the head of the rebel, though hut a short
time before they had fought with their brethren for
his rescue.
A more formidable enemy than Jonael, however, Another
still remained. The province of Damot was one ofrebelhua,
the most disaffected to Socinios in the whole empire ;
and to this place the greatest part of the religious fa¬
natics
ABYSSINIA.
81
of the
monks.
The emper-
renounces
the Alex¬
andrian
faith.
Abyssinia, natics in other provinces had retired. They now mus-
u—-v—^ tered up an army of more than 12,000 men, among
Desperate whom were 400 monks, all of them armed with
enthusiasm shields, lances, and swords ; inspired, besides, with
such a degree of religious enthusiasm, that they expect¬
ed to be rendered invulnerable by all terrestrial wea¬
pons, and that armies of angels would fight in their
cause. Against these Sela Christos was dispatched with
about 7000 excellent soldiers*, and as the general him¬
self was a zealous Homan Catholic, as well as most of
his men, we need not doubt that both parties imagined
themselves sure of the protection of heaven, and con¬
sequently that the encounter would be very violent.
The two armies met on the 16th of October 1620;
but Sela Christos was unwilling to destroy the infatuated
people, who he knew would be unable to resist his ve¬
teran troops. He therefore first showed them his supe¬
riority in some skirmishes ; and then sent a pathetic
message, offering a general pardon if they would lay
down their arms. The messengers, however, were not
allowed to approach, so that an engagement became
unavoidable. The numbers of the rebels, as Sela
Christos had foreseen, availed very little against the
discipline of the veterans he commanded. The 400
monks made a most obstinate resistance ; and did not
yield till after 180 of them had been killed on the
spot.
Socinios, having once more vanquished his enemies,
or publicly now determined to show his attachment to the church
of Rome more openly. Having therefore sent for
Peter Paez, he told him his final resolution to embrace
the Catholic religion in its full extent $ after which he
renounced the Alexandrian church in the most expli¬
cit manner. His renunciation was followed by a pro¬
clamation vindicating his conduct j in which, besides
the arguments used for the pope’s supremacy, &c. he
insisted much on the bad lives of the clergy of the op¬
posite party, and for which it appeared that there was
in reality too much foundation. This was the last
work of the excellent missionary Peter Paez, who died
of a fever immediately after his leaving the king. The
example of the sovereign, however, had very little ef¬
fect upon his subjects. The proclamation was follow¬
ed by a new rebellion in Amhara. Unluckily the ene-
keaks out. mies of his brother Sela Christos had persuaded Soci¬
nios to deprive him of his government: and there was
no other in the kingdom who could be intrusted with
such an important commission j so that the king soon
found himself under a necessity of replacing and com¬
mitting to him the charge of the war against the re¬
bels. In this he was attended with his usual success :
for the rebel chief, finding himself unable to contend
with his enemy, repaired for assistance to the Galla;
The rebel who no sooner had him in their power, than they killed
chief mur- him on the first offer of the imperial general, mangling
theGalki *n suc*‘ a manaer that scarce a hit of it re¬
mained to be sent to his antagonist.
In the mean time news of the revolution in reli¬
gious matters which had taken place in Abyssinia,
arrived in Europe. Though the embassy to the pope
A aew pa- and king of Spain could not pass, as has already been
tnarch and related, yet frequent accounts had been otherwise
aries arrive tra,isil>itted j which produced such an effect, that a new
in Abyssi- set missionaries, with a patriarch (Alphonso Mendes)
at their head, were sent to Abyssinia. They arrived
VOL. I. Part I, t
A new re¬
bellion
hi a
at Gorgora, the seat of royal residence, in the beginning Abyssinia.
of the year 1626 ; and at the very first audience of the v——
emperor, it was agreed that he should take an oath of
submission to the pope. The ceremony was perform-
ed with all the splendour that could he contrived : the0(t|1 0f
patriarch then preached a sermon on the pope’s su-submission
premacy in the Portuguese language, intermixed with to ihe
Latin quotations; which is reported to have greatlyP°Pe’
confirmed the faith of the emperor and his brother,
though neither of them understood a word of the lan¬
guages in which it was preached. An answer to this
unintelligible discourse was made in the Amharic lan¬
guage, which was equally unintelligible to the patriarch
and his attendants; and to this the patriarch added a
few words of a reply equally ill understood. At the
conclusion of the dispute, an oath of the pope’s supre¬
macy was taken by the emperor himself on his knees, *
then by the princes, and afterwards by all present, ac¬
cording to their different stations. Sela Christos, not Violent
contented with taking the oath, drew his sword, andron-unt
in words not easily understood, denounced vengeance'
on “ those who fell from their duty and he likewise 1
added to the oath of supremacy another to the empe¬
ror and Facilidas the prince royal ; but if the latter
should fail in the defence of the Catholic faith, he swore
to be his greatest enemy : nor would he be satisfied
without imposing this clause upon all the officers, whe¬
ther civil or military, then present.
This violent conduct of Sela Christos procured him an^ of the
a number of enemies, and at last was the occasion ofc^eror.
his destruction; hut that of the king and patriarch
set the whole empire in a flame. An excommunica¬
tion was first pronounced upon all who did not keep
the oath : a proclamation was next issued, that all
priests should previously embrace the Catholic religion
under pain of death ; and that every one, under the
same penalty, should observe Lent and Easter, accord¬
ing to the rules of the Romish church. The patriarch
proceeded in the same style ; reordaining the clergy,
consecrating the churches over again, rebaptizing the
people, even such as were full grown, abrogating cir¬
cumcision, polygamy, and divorce (for these had been
allowed by the Alexandrian church), and reducing the
moveable feasts entirely to the rules of the church of
Rome.
Though polygamy and divorce are no doubt incon¬
sistent with the pure doctrines of the gospel, yet it
was very improper to meddle with these practices at
once in such a violent manner. Besides the confusion
that this would naturally occasion in private families,
these practices gave occasion to many questions in law,
which it belonged to the civil judges to decide ; but
now these were all subjected to the authority of the
patriarch : and from some other steps taken by this
prelate, it appeared that he intended to encroach much
farther upon the civil authority. One of these related
to the church lands ; which in Ethiopia are granted
by the king, and resumed at his pleasure ; others be¬
ing granted in their place, so that neither priests nor
monks have any property in them. On the present An Abys-
occasion, an Abyssinian nobleman had possessed somes,”,an
lands belonging to a Catholic monk ; for which he was"xcomniu-
called before the patriarch. On his refusing to sub-nicated.
mit to this new tribunal, he was instantly condemned
to restore the lands ; but refusing this also, the patri-
L arch
82
ABYSSINIA.
of the
grave.
Abyssinia, arch took an opportunity, as he was attending the em-
1 —v— > peror at church, to pronounce sentence of excommu¬
nication against him, giving him over at once, soul and
body to the devil.-—On hearing this terrible sentence
pronounced, the nobleman fainted away, and was with
difficulty recovered. On the intercession of the em¬
peror, however, the curse was taken oflp; hut the in¬
cident produced a very disagreeable effect on the
minds of the people, who from that day began to en~
v f an ter^a*n a greater aversion than ever to the Roman Ca-
°„:an tholics and their priests. This aversion was greatly
an saint increased by the absurd conduct ot the patriarch, in
thrown out ordering the body of an Abyssinian saint to be taken
up, and thrown out of the grave in an ignominious
manner, because it had been buried under the altar of
a church, which he imagined was thus defiled. In all
other respects, the patriarch behaved in such an insolent
and overbearing manner, that the effects of his op¬
pression soon began to be universally felt, and the
Catholic religion began very quickly to decline.—
The first stroke given to it was the alteration of the
liturgy ; which wras done at the desire of the empe¬
ror. Ever since the establishment of the Catholic re¬
ligion, the Latin mass book, &c. had been made use
of according to the practice of the church of Rome j
but as it seemed very unreasonable to impose this at
once upon the Ethiopians, Socinios ordered the patri¬
arch to make such alterations in the old Abyssinian li¬
turgies as he thought proper, that the people might
th us have an opportunity of paying their devotions in
a language they understood. The patriarch, not being
able to assign any solid reason to the contrary, was
obliged to comply •, but no sooner was this done than
the people made use of their old liturgies entirely, with¬
out the least regard to the innovations of the patriarch.
In the midst of the confusion which daily took place
from these causes, the Galla made a dreadful invasion,
and cut oft' one of the emperor’s generals with his
whole army : nor were all the abilities of Sela Chri¬
stos, who had so often distinguished himself, sufficient
to retrieve matters ; so that the savages, after having
ravaged the country for some time at pleasure, return¬
ed home loaded with booty. This misfortune was
Catholic
liturgy al¬
tered.
An army
tut off by
the Galla.
Tecla Ge-
, VI IJWIJJC/ iwctltcil \\ ALII IJ VJ \J • JLlJlo IJ1 i 01U J It-IHvs v* CVo
king’s swi f°^owe(l fiy the revolt of Tecla Georgis the king’s son-
in-law, re. in-law ; who not only made religion the pretence for
volts, taking up arms, but insulted the Catholics in the most
outrageous manner •, collecting their images and other
religious trinkets into a heap, and then publicly set¬
ting fire to them. After this he called before him his
own chaplain, named Abba Jacob, who was a Catholic,
stripped him of his pontificals, and killed him with his
own hand. A reconciliation with Socinios was now
impossible; so that he had no resource but in arms. In
i. Ideated '10Wever» he 'vvas equally unsuccessful with the
taken aud'°^ier re^)e^s t^1‘s reign 5 being defeated, taken pri-
cxecuted. soner, and put to death, along with his sister Abdera,
notwithstanding the intercession of a Catholic mission¬
ary for him, and that of the queen and ladies of the
court for his sister.
As the reasons given by the king for refusing such
tkeVAgov\s Powei^1^ intercession were purely religious, the people
who set up became more and more averse to a profession so ex-
Melcha tremely oppressive and sanguinary as that of Rome
Christos. seemed to be. A revolt of the Agows quickly follow¬
ed j not that religion had really any share in their de¬
terminations, but that they were exasperated by the Abysslni*
slavery and oppression to which they saw themselves sub-—r-—'
jected. They now therefore set up Melcha Christos, a
prince of the royal blood, as a pretender to the crown;
and soon put on such a formidable appearance, that the
king himself thought proper to march against them with
an army of 30,000 fighting men, w hich with the ser¬
vants and other attendants amounted to more than
80,000. Melcha Christos retired with his troops to the
craggy mountains ol the country ; and being impru¬
dently followed by the emperor, rolled down such quan¬
tities of stones from the precipices, that Socinios was
obliged to retreat with great precipitation, alter having
lost almost one half of his army.
On this defeat the emperor found himself obliged to The rebels
apply to Sela Christos, whom he had again disgraced defeated by
and deprived of his government. He succeeded in giv- '^l clai-
ing the rebels a dreadful overthrow, which for .someLae‘aM
time entirely broke their power ; but this success wasriam’sre_
quickly followed by the revolt of Lseca Mariam, avoltand
near relation of the king. He also was defeated, and death,
obliged to retire to a mountain so steep, that though
he ascended it in safety, he W'as dashed in pieces with
many of his followers in attempting to descend ; the
rest, who escaped this danger, being killed by their
pursuers. Still, however, the rebel Melcha Christos gevfra]
was unsubdued ; against whom Prince Facilidas, the misfortunes
heir-apparent to the throne, was sent, having under befal the
him a nobleman of most distinguished character named enif,eror’
Keba Christos. The latter was defeated and killed,
without its being in the power of Facilidas to do any
thing towards the suppression of the rebellion. This
misfortune w'as followed by the death of Fecur Egzie,
formerly ambassador with Antonio Fernandes to the
pope, but now lieutenant-general to Sela Christos. He
was cut off- with a small body of troops by the
Galla ; and from many misfortunes befalling the
imperial troops, the power of Melcha Christos was
augmented to such a degree, that he now began to
act as a king, and appointed a deputy-governor to
one of the provinces. His opinion of his own impor-a rebel ge-
tance, however, had almost proved his ruin ; for theneralen-
new governor having appointed a great festival on a
Saturday, in opposition to the royal edict, he was at- e‘
tacked by a party of the king’s troops, and entirely
routed with the loss of 4000 of his men. This defeat prjnce pa.
wras revenged by an overthrow given to Prince Faci-c;ii,jas ^e-
lidas himself; the blame of which was laid upon Selafeated.
Christos. The latter, as we have often had occasion
to observe, was not only a most valiant commander,
but a rigid Catholic ; and these two qualities might
naturally have been thought to secure him in favour
with the emperor. His violent conduct in regartl t°Scla Chri-
the Catholic religion, however, had raised him so ma-stos univer-
ny enemies, that accusations were perpetually brought sally hated
against him ; and one disgrace constantly followed an¬
other, notwithstanding all his services. The present
accusation w'as brought by one Lesana Christos, whom
Sela Christos had formerly condemned to death. For
this offence he had received a pardon from Socinios ;
and he now revenged himself upon his former judge by
accusing him to his sovereign. Sela Christos was not
unmindful of his conduct; and therefore, as soon as
he had him in his power, put him to death without
regarding the pardon he had received. The emperor
on
ABYSSINIA.
83
Abyssinia,
Deprired
• »f the go-
▼ernment
cT Gojani.
Revolt of
the new go-
*ior.
Me is de¬
feated, ta¬
ken, and
pit to
death.
The empe¬
ror relaxes
111 his seve¬
rity con¬
cerning re¬
ligion,
■which is
resented by
the patri¬
arch.
on this deprived him or the government of Gojam,
which he gave to Serca Christos, who has supposed to
be a dependent on Prince Facilidas, and was besides
cousin to the emperor himself. The new governor,
on his entering upon office, promised solemnly to sup¬
port the Catholic religion ; but no sooner did he arrive
in Gojam than he solicited Prince Facilidas to rebel
against his father, and re-establish the Alexandrian
faith. This was not the only instance in which he
showed his disobedience. He had received the charge
of a caravan which came annually from Narea ; but
instead of acting properly in this respect, he employ¬
ed himself in driving oft' the cattle of the Agows and
Damots, who expected no harm, and were consequent¬
ly quite unprepared. Such numbers of them were
carried off on this occasion, that 100,000 are said to
have been sent to the Abyssinian market. Socinios,
when informed of such an atrocious robbery, ordered
him to restore the cattle, and to surrender himself pri¬
soner; but instead of complying with this order, he
again solicited Facilidas to revolt against his father.
For this he was sharply reproved ; but now deter¬
mined to make the world believe that the prince had
entered into his schemes, he sent a public message to
him in which he was desired to come and take posses¬
sion of the kingdom. Facilidas imprisoned the per¬
son who brought this treasonable message, and soon af¬
ter sent him to Socinios ; but Serca Christos still per¬
sisted in his mad attempts. He now proposed to abo¬
lish the Romish religion throughout the kingdom ; and
with that view attacked a convent which Sela Christos
had built in Gojam : but the fathers having been fur¬
nished with some fire-arms, made so good a defence,
that he was obliged to give over the enterprise. He
then took the last step to complete his folly, by open¬
ly revolting against the emperor, and setting up a
prince of the royal-blood in opposition to him, whom
he had found living in obscurity among his mother’s
relations. To cut oft all possibility of reconciliation
with the emperor, he renewed the sacrilegious practices
of Georgis, and put to death a priest for refusing to
deny the two natures of Christ. Thus he procured a
multitude of enthusiasts to join him ; but when the
affair came to a decision, and Prince Facilidas with a
well-disciplined army was sent against him, it then be¬
came evident how little the fanaticism of a tumul¬
tuous rabble availed against the skill of a regular army.
The rebels fought, however, with great obstinacy till
most of them were killed, their commander being ob¬
liged to take refuge on a mountain; from whence, be¬
ing unable to make his escape, he at last came down
and surrendered at discretion. We need not doubt of
his fate ; but notwithstanding the execution of this
rebel, another still remained. This was Melcha Chri¬
stos, against whom the emperor next prepared to
march. He now found, however, the bad conse¬
quences of having acted so violently in favour of the
Catholic religion. His army was so disaffected, that
he could scarcely put any confidence in them. For
this reason he issued a proclamation, that such as chose
to observe the Wednesday as a fast instead of Satur¬
day, had liberty to do so. This and some other in-
dulgencies being reported to the patriarch, the latter
sharply reproved him as committing an encroachment
on the priesthood ; and put him in mind of the pu¬
nishment of leprosy inflicted upon Uzziah for assum- ABysdnia.
ing the priest’s office. Thus an altercation commen- '■ - 1
ced ; and it was evident, from the behaviour of So¬
cinios, that his extreme favour for the Romish reli¬
gion began to decline. After (his he set out for the
country of Lasta, where Melcha Christos was, and the
entrance to which was guarded by very high and rug¬
ged mountains. Among these the rebels had strongly
fortified themselves : but were driven from four posts
by the king’s troops, so that the latter imagined a
complete victory had been gained. Assembling them¬
selves, however, on the top of another high mountain,
the rebels watched their opportunity; and descending >i>}ic cn)fe_
suddenly upon them, cut off great numbers, and obliged ror deftau
the rest to make a precipitate retreat. Another cam-ed.
paign was therefore necessary ; but now the army lost
all patience. They were become weary of making war
on their countrymen, and after slaughtering them in
the field, seeing the intervals between the campaigns
filled up with numerous executions of those who had
escaped the sword. A deputation was therefore sent The army
from the soldiers by Prince Facilidas, who, though heiet*u,re flie
had never declared his sentiments openly, was stronglyot tjie‘Ale
suspected of being no friend to the Catholics. Theandriaa
purport of the deputation was, that they did not mean failk,
to say that the Romish profession was a bad one, but
it was such as they could not understand ; and conse¬
quently there could be no merit on their part in pro¬
fessing it. They were ready, however, to lay down
their lives for the public good, provided their ancient
religion was restored ; but this was a point they would
not give up, and without which they would neither
concern themselves in the quarrel, nor even wish suc¬
cess to the emperor’s arms. With regard to the Ro¬
mish religion, they added this declaration, perhaps the
strongest possible mark of aversion, that they did not
wi.sk to know any thing about it. Socinios, therefore,
according to the Abyssinian accounts, promised to re¬
store the Alexandrian faith, on condition that he re¬
turned victorious from Lasta. The army then readi¬
ly agreed to follow him wherever he pleased ; while
the rebels, having left their fortresses in Lasta, pro¬
bably from a confidence in their own strength, boldly
marched towards the royal army. In the engagement,
however, they did not show their usual alacrity, and
were soon defeated with the loss of 8000 men. ManyMeleka
of their best officers were killed on the spot, and Mel-Christos de-
cha Christos himself escaped only by the swiftness of^eatc(^-
his horse.
By this victory the power of the rebels was broken ;
hut it was not attended with the same satisfaction to
the people with which other victories were wont to be
accompanied. On viewing the field of battle along
with Facilidas next day, the prince is said to have madepaihetic
a pathetic speech to his father; in which he told him,speech of
that the bodies of the men he saw dead on the field of^.1’*1166 ^'a'
battle were neither those of Pagans nor Mahometans,
but 01 ms own Christian subjects; and that victories ofcouce,ni„„
this kind were like driving a sword into his own en-the war.
trails. “ * How many men (says he) have you slaugh-* Bruce's
tered ? how many more have you yet to kill ? We are A ^
become a proverb even to the Pagans and Moors forp0^^19
carrying on this war ; and for apostatizing, as they say,
from the faith of our ancestors.” The king did not
make any reply at that time; but the effects of the
L 2 prince’s
84
Abyssinia.
Au univer¬
sal tolera¬
tion grant¬
ed.
Opposed by
the patri¬
arch.
The empe¬
ror restores
the Alex¬
andrian
faith, and
resigns the
kingdom.
The new
emperor
an enemy
to the Ca¬
tholics.
The patri¬
arch com¬
manded to
quit Abys¬
sinia,
A B Y S
prince’s words were soon appment. -The pntrmich tooic
the first opportunity of upbraiding him with his ingra¬
titude to the Catholics, and deserting the religion
whose professors had by their prayers obtained such a
signal victory. To this Socinios replied in general,
that he had done every thing in his power to establish
the Catholic religion •, for which he had shed the blood
of thousands, and had still as much more to shed: but
that he should consider of the matter, and acquaint him
with his final resolution. This was by no means fa¬
vourable •, for next day, in a message to the patriarch,
he recounted the many rebellions which had been ex¬
cited on account of religion 5 and concluded with tell¬
ing him, that though the faith of Rome was not a
bad one, yet the people of Abyssinia did not understand
it. For this reason he was determined to grant a tole¬
ration, by allowing such as professed the Catholic faith
to do so in peace, and such as rather chose that ol A-
lexandria to do the same. T-he patriarch replied, that
he had no objection to grant this indulgence to such
as had not yet embraced the Catholic faith } but those
who had done so could not be permitted to renounce it
without a grievous sin. Thus a new system of perse¬
cution would have commenced : but the emperor, un¬
derstanding well the purport of his discourse, replied,
that if this was the case he was no longer master of his
own kingdom ; and immediately afterwards issued a
proclamation, wherein he declared the Alexandrian
faith restored, with the altars for the sacrament, litur¬
gy, and every other thing belonging to it •, at the same
time, that being now old and infirm, he himself resign¬
ed the crown and empire to Facilidas.
This remarkable proclamation was made on the 14th
of June 1632J after which Socinios took no farther
care of public affairs ; nor did he long survive this
transaction. He died on the 7th of September this
year, and with him fell all the hopes of the Jesuits.
Facilidas, as has been rightly conjectured, was an in-
veteiate enemy to the Catholic faith. As soon there¬
fore as he had obtained the government, even before
he took upon himself the title of the king, the Catholics
were everywhere displaced from offices of trust and ho¬
nour *, but as soon as he found himself established on
the throne, a letter was sent to the patriarch, informing
him, that as the Alexandrian faith was now restored,
it was become indispensably necessary for him to leave
the kingdom, especially as the new Abuna was on the
way, and only deferred his journey till the Romish
priests should be out of the country. For this reason
he commanded the patriarch, with all his brethren, to
leave their convents throughout the empire, and retire
to Fremona in the kingdom of Tigre, there to wait
his further pleasure. The patriarch attempted to soft¬
en him by many concessions, but in vain } on the 9th
of March 1633 he was ordered with the rest of the
fathers, to proceed immediately for Fremona. This
they were obliged to comply with ; but the emperor,
understanding that they were about to establish them¬
selves, and to solicit succours from Spain to accomplish
their purposes by force, he sent orders to the patriarch,
instantly to deliver up all the gunpowder they had at
that place, and to prepare, without delay, to set out for
Masuah. Still the infatuated and obstinate priest de¬
termined not to comply with the emperor’s orders. At
last he thought proper to deliver up the gunpowder j
3
S I N I A.
hut resolved to leave his companions behind him, and Abyssinia.
to disperse them as much as possible through the em- ' —‘
pire, in case lie himself should be obliged to embark at
Masuah ; which, however, he did not by any means
intend. For this purpose he applied to the Bahama-He applies
gash, named John Akay, then in rebellion against the tov protec-
emperor j who carried them all off from Fremona
the night time, under a guard of soldiers, and lodged gasjl tjlen
them safely in a strong fortress n&meii Adicotta. Here iu rebellion.
the patriarch imagined that Ije might remain in safety
till he should be able to procure succours from India.
In this, however, he was deceived. John conveyed
them from place to place, through many unwholesome
situations, till their strength as well as their patience
was exhausted. At last, on receiving a present of gold,
he allowed them to return to their old habitation Adi-
cotta. Facilidas, then, being determined at all events
to get rid of such troublesome guests, endeavoured to
prevail upon John by bribes to deliver them into his
hands. John was too delicate to comply with this re¬
quest, which he supposed would be a violation ot hos¬
pitality ; but he consented, on receiving a proper com-The patri.
pensation, to sell them to the Turks. Two were left arch and
in Abyssinia, in hopes of soon sharing the crown of ot'ler l13*5”
martyrdom j and this indeed Facilidas did not delay sold t0 the
to put them in possession of, being both ordered for Turks,
execution as soon as he got them into his power.
Not content with this, and being perpetually appre¬
hensive of fresh invasions from Europe, he entered into
a treaty with the Turkish bashaws to keep the ports
of Masuah and Suakem shut against them j by which
their entrance into Abyssinia would be effectually pre¬
vented.
During these transactions, the emperor took the
most effectual methods otherwise to eradicate the Ro¬
mish religion, by cutting off the principal persons who
professed it, or obliging them to renounce their profes¬
sion. The principal of these was his uncle Sela Chri-
stos, who had deserved so well of the late emperor So-^^11110
cinios, and of the whole empire in general. His ex¬
cessive bigotry in religious matters proved the cause of
his destruction, as has formerly been hinted. When
it was proposed to him to renounce his faith, he abso¬
lutely refused to do so, either to avoid the greatest pu¬
nishment the king could inflict, or to obtain the great¬
est gift he had in his power to bestow. On this lie was
banished to an unhealthy district among the mountains
of Samen ; hut as even here he kept up a correspon¬
dence with the Jesuits, and wished to facilitate the in¬
troduction of more Portuguese from India, he was sen¬
tenced to be hanged on a cedar tree.
The expulsion of the present race of missionaries did
not entirely discourage the Europeans from attempting
to introduce a fresh mission into Abyssinia. The ob¬
stinate, haughty, and rebellious spirit of the Jesuits was
universally condemned, and regarded as the cause of
the extreme aversion showed by the emperor and the
whole empire against the doctrines they professed. It
was therefore hoped, and not without some appearance
of reason, that the point might still be gained, provi¬
ded the mission were undertaken by others less violent A new mis
and insidious in their behaviour. After the execution sion under,
of those who remained in Abyssinia, six Capuchins, the La*u'u
reformed order of 'St Francis, were sent with protec-Slx **aIlus
tions from the Grand Sign!or to facilitate their passage cgins ^11
into
Abyssinia.
’our of
iiem rnur-
Fkree o-
hers mur-
lered by
irderof Fa-
ilidas.
lelcha
’Inistos
till con-
inues in
ebellion.
, A B Y S
inlo Abyssinia, where they hoped to revive the droop¬
ing, or rather Jost, cause of the Catholic religion.
The event of this undertaking was truly unfortunate.
The Galla murdered two who attempted to enter A-
byssinia by the way of Magadoxa. Two who arrived
he other sa^y 1,1 t^ie country rvere stoned to death ; while the
nv return, remaining two, hearing at Masuah of the fate of their
companions, returned home with the melancholy ac¬
count of it. This bad success did not deter three
others from making the same attempt a short time af¬
terwards but they having imprudently informed Fa-
cilidas of their intention, were murdered by the bashaw
ot Masuah, who had received orders from him to this
purpose. So particular was the emperor with regard
to the execution of this order, that he caused the ba-
ehaw to send him the skin of their faces and heads ;
that he might know by their faces that they were
Europeans, and by their shaved heads that they wei’e
priests.
The Catholic faith xvas now totally suppressed, hut
the spirit of rebellion still prevailed j and Melcha Chri¬
stos continued as much in opposition to his sovereign
as when he first took up arms on pretence of religion.
At first he met with extraordinary success 5 totally de¬
feated the royal army, though commanded by Facili-
das in person j after which, pursuing his good fortune,
he made himself master of the capital, entered the pa¬
lace, and was formally crowned king. This, how¬
ever, was the last of his good fortune. Facilidas hav¬
ing quickly recruited his army, sent three able gene¬
rals to attack his rival, who was now acting the sove¬
reign in his palace. The rebels were attacked and sur-
nd killed! rounde(1 before they expected an enemy, were almost
entirely cut off, and Melcha Christos himself was killed
in the engagement.
The victory over Melcha Christos was followed bv
several successful expeditions against the Agows and
Galla *, but in the 6th year of the reign of this empe¬
ror, the rebels of Lasta, who seemed determined not to
yield while there remained a possibility of resistance,
ke rebels chose the son of Melcha Christos for their king, and
koose his again began their depredations on the neighbouring
leirTead Prov‘nces* Faciiidas marched against them with his
‘#eir eau’ usual activity *, but had the misfortune to lose the
lie emper-g*’eatest part of his army hy cold among the mountains
of Lasta, though it xvas then the time of the equinox,
and consequently the sun was only 1 20 from being ver¬
tical, the latitude of Lasta being no more than 120,
and the sun 12 hours in the day above the horizon.—
Before this rebellion could be suppressed, another was
begun, at the head of which was Claudius the king’s
brother. He had not the same good fortune with tSxe
rebels of Lasta *, but was quickly defeated, taken pri-
Jt„luuu soner, and banished to a mountain called Wee/me ;
gain im- which served from that time for the imprisonment of
risoned the princes of the blood-royal. The suppression, of one
Jaamoun* rebel lion, however, seemed to have no other effect than
that of giving rise to another. A new expedition was
to he undertaken against the Agows and Shangalla j
efe«tcd\YbUt tllCy had l30Steri themselves so advantageously, that
ie Agows the ro-yal army was entirely defeated without' being
"d Shan- able to make any impression on their enemies. Faci-
*!!a. lidasr however, knowing that this defeat could be at¬
tended with no other bad consequence than the loss of
the men, which had already happened, marched direct-
> defeated
r s army
erishes
ilk cold.
’nnees of
if blood
S I N I A. ' 85
ly against the rebels of Lasta without attempting to Abyssinia.
revenge the defeat he had sustained. The rebel gene-  v—-*
ral, weary of a contention, in which he probably saw The rebels
that he would be finally unsuccessful, chose to submit
unconditionally to the emperor; who, though he at
first affected to treat him with severity, soon after re¬
leased him from prison, bestowing upon him large pos¬
sessions in Begemder, with his daughter Theoclea in
marriage.
Faciiidas died in the month of October 1665, andReJgu 0f,.
was succeeded by bis son Hannes. This prince was Hannes,
such an enthusiast for Christianity, that in the very be¬
ginning of his r^ign he issued a proclamation, forbid¬
ding the Mahometans to eat any flesh but what was
killed by Christians ; but so far was he from any in¬
clination to favour the Catholics, that he ordered all
their books which could he found in the empire to be
collected and burnt. Much of his time was spent in
regulations of church matters, and in contentions and
trifling disputes with the clergy ; which conduct so
disgusted his son Yasous, that he fled twice from the
capital, hut was pursued and brought back. The last
time was in the year 1680, when he found his father
ill of the distemper of which he died. Hannes expired
on the 19th of July that year, having lived at peace
during the whole of his reign, excepting some trifling
expeditions against the Shangalla and rebels of Lasta.
Aasous, who succeeded to the throne with the ap-j^gj^ 0f
probation of the whole kingdom, was of a very differ-Yasous.
ent disposition from his father. Genercus, active, and
brave, he was less bigotted, and differed from him
considerably in religious principles. Having settled
church matters as he thought proper, his next step,
and the most glorious action of his whole reign, was ,
to pay a visit to those of the royal family who were His gene-
confined on the mountain of Wechne. He found them rosily to ths
in the most miserable condition; all in tatters, and banished
many almost naked ; their revenue having been ill paid Pnnces’
by his father, who was of a sordid disposition, and
the little they received having been embezzled by
their keepers. Yasous was greatly moved at this spec¬
tacle, ordered a large sum of money to be divided-
among them for present relief, clothed them accord¬
ing to their rank, and settled matters so that no part
of their revenue could ever afterwards be improperly
applied. To the governor of the mountain he assign¬
ed a large tract of territory, to make amends for the
profit he had been accustomed to derive from the re¬
venue of the princes; and finally he left all the prison¬
ers at the foot of the mountain, at perfect liberty ei¬
ther to tv.ke up their residence again on it or any
where else. By these extraordinary instances of royal
munificence, the emperor so effectually gained the af¬
fection of his relations, that they unanimously deter¬
mined to return to their former state of confinement;
and during the whole time of his reign not one of them
ever appeared as a competitor for the crown.
Though Yasous is said to have possessed all the qua¬
lities which constitute a great and good monarch, the
natural turbulence of his subjects, and the restless dis¬
position of the monks, soon began to show themselves Irruption of
by new seditions. These were preceded by a violent
irruption of the Galla, who were overthrown, as usual,^t1^ons
with great slaughter ; but soon after, being solicitedni01lks re_
by seme monks who had drawn over a party of the bellion,&c.
Agows
36
A B Y S
Abyssinia. Agows to their side, the disturbances were renewed.
* ' 1 yi A grandson of Socimos, who had fled to the Galla
when Facilidas first banished the princes to Wechne,
was proclaimed king. A multitude of savages imme¬
diately flocked to his standard, so that he was soon at
the head of a very formidable army, while the Agows
and other malecontents were ready to join him as soon
as he should repass the Nile. The king, however, en¬
tirely disconcerted the scheme by his activity 5 for,
advancing with the utmost celerity, he reached the
banks of the Nile before the Galla on the other side
W'ere ready to join their allies on this side of it. The
Agows were so confounded at his presence, that they
allowed him to pass the river unmolested. The Galla
were equally surprised at seeing the war transferred
into their own country; and, with their usual fickle¬
ness, deserted the prince whose cause they had pre¬
tended to espouse. A few remained faithful, but were
utterly defeated by the forces of Yasous j the unhap-
tyuelled by py prince himself, whose name was Isaac, being taken
the empe- prisoner, and put to death in the presence of his rival.
l'*r- After this, many great exploits were performed against
the rebellious Agows, Galla, and other savages : but
which, as they produced no other consequence than
that of establishing the emperor’s character for person¬
al valour and military skill, we shall here pass over ;
only remarking, that, in the opinion of his subjects,
one of his campaigns was the most glorious ever re¬
corded in the annals of Abyssinia. The most memo-
Attempt to rable events in the present reign regarded religion, and
revive the a renewal of the correspondence betwixt Europe and
religious Abyssinia j of which we have a particular account from
fVom°Eu- Mr Bruce to the following purpose. About the end
rope. of the 17th century, a number of Franciscans from
Italy settled.at Cairo in Egypt, and were maintained
at the expence of the fathers in Palestine, though pre¬
tending to be independent of their superior the guar¬
dian of Jerusalem. The latter, displeased at this me¬
thod of proceeding, offered to supply the mission to
Egypt entirely at the expcnce of Palestine, and like¬
wise to furnish from thence missionaries capable of in¬
structing the people in the Christian religion. This
proposal meeting with a favourable reception at Rome,
a new set of missionaries from Jerusalem, called by our
author Capuchins, appeared at Cairo1, from whence the
Franciscans- were banished, only two of them being
allowed to remain in that city. The others returned
to Rome ; where, finding that they could not re-esta¬
blish themselves by fair means, they had recourse to
artifice and fiction. It was now pretended, that, on
the expulsion of the Jesuits from Abyssinia, a great
number of Catholic Christians had fled into the neigh¬
bouring countries of Nubia and Sennaar, where they
found themselves so grievously oppressed by the Ma¬
hometans, that, without some spiritual assistance, they
■would he under the necessity of renouncing their re¬
ligion. This story being confirmed by the two Fran¬
ciscans who remained at Cairo, the cause of these sup¬
posed Christians was eagerly espoused by the religious
in Italy, and a new mission set on foot at the expence
of the pope for their relief, which continues to this
day under the title of the Ethiopic mission. The mis¬
sionaries had it also in charge to penetrate if possible
into Abyssinia; and to keep up, as far as was in their
power, the Catholic faith, until a better opportunity
S I N I A.
should offer of making an attempt to convert the whole Abyssinia,
empire. For this purpose a convent was procured for
them at Achmim in Upper Egypt; and permission was
granted, notwithstanding their former banishment, to
settle two of their order at Cairo independent of the fa¬
thers of Palestine.
While these transactions passed in Italy and Egypt,
Louis XIV. of France was in the height of his glory.
He had attempted to rival the ancient Greeks nnd
Romans in the magnificence of his works ; but his
conduct with regard to religion, his persecution of the
Protestants, and revocation of the edict of Nantz., had
stigmatized him throughout the greatest part of Eu¬
rope as a bloody and merciless tyrant. To wipe off
this stain, the Jesuits, his great spiritual directors, form¬
ed a scheme of inducing the emperor of Abyssinia to
send an embassy to Fiance ; after which they hoped
that they might get themselves replaced in the Ethiopic
mission, to the exclusion of the Franciscans. The king,
whose pride was very much flattered by the proposal,
readily embraced it ; but the pope’s consent was still
necessary. His holiness was by no means pleased with
this intrusion of a temporal prince into spiritual affairs:
nevertheless he did not choose to enter into any contest ;
hut that he might undo with one hand what he did
with the other, he appointed six Jesuits, of whom ^ er-
seau, the ambassador of Louis to himself was one, to he
missionaries to Abyssinia, hut the superior of the Fran¬
ciscans to he his legate a latere at that court; provid¬
ing him with suitable presents for the emperor and
principal nobility.
The Jesuits now finding themselves in danger of be¬
ing supplanted by the Franciscans, applied to the pope
to know which of the two orders should make the first
attempt to enter Abyssinia ; hut received no other
answer than that those who were most expert should
do so. Verseau, probably displeased at this conduct
of the pope, went to a convent in Syria, of which lie
was superior, without making any attempt to enter
Ethiopia : therefore the mission remained in the hands
of two persons of opposite professions, a Jesuit and a
Franciscan ; the name of the latter being Paschal, an
Italian ; and of the former Brevedent, a Frenchman.
The latter was accounted a man of learning and pro¬
bity, zealous in the cause of his religion, but by
no means imprudent or rash in his attempts to pro¬
mote it.
In the mean time an unforeseen accident procured Yasous fal
admittance to the missionaries into Abyssinia more siek, and
readily than could have been expected in the present senc*s tor
situation of affairs. Yasous and his son had both been pean pin-
attacked by a scorbutic disorder which threatened to siciun.
turn to a leprosy ; on which one Hagi Ali, a Maho¬
metan factor at Cairo, received orders to bring with
him an European physician on his return to Abyssinia.
It happened that this man had formerly been acquaint¬
ed with Friar Paschal, who had administered some me¬
dicines to him. He now proposed that Paschal should Friar Pas
accompany him to Abyssinia in the character of a dial and
physician; and that Friar Anthony, another of his own anol^V
order, should go with him as his companion. undertake
this scheme was frustrated by Maillet the French con-^ 0^te<
sul, who had the charge of the whole from Louis X1Y.
and wished that the Jesuits alone should have the con¬
duct of the mission. For this purpose he represented
to
A B Y S
tbjssinia. to HagI Ali, that Friar Paschal understood nothing of
—^ 1 medicine j but he promised to furnish him with ano-
isappoint-ther, whose skill he extolled above all those of ancient
' l!et °r mo^ern t‘mes' Hagi Ali, who knew nothing of
the matter, readily agreed to Maillet’s proposal j and
aacet and Charles Poncet, a Frenchman, who had been bred a
revedent chemist and apothecary, was appointed to the office
pointed, of physician, with Father Brevedent to attend him as
his servant. Thus the scheme of the Franciscans was
for the present overthrown : but unluckily Maillet em¬
ployed one Ibrahim Hanna, a Syrian, to write letters
to the Abyssinian monarch and some of his principal
nobility,, which he desired him to submit to the in¬
spection of one Francis, a Capuchin or monk of the
Holy Land, and consequently an enemy to the Fran¬
ciscans. Ibrahim, not being acquainted with the
monk he mentioned, and thinking any other would
answer as well, carried the letters to one of the same
i he Fran-name> ^Llt the Franciscan order. Thus the whole
scans re- secret was divulged at once } and the Franciscans, with
live the the malevolence essential to such religious miscreants,
'the mis” reso^ve^ on ^ie destruction of Poncet and his atten-
enaries. ^ants* At present, however, their sanguinary inten-
| oncet sets tions were defeated; Poncet set out immediately after
it on his he had received his commission, and arrived safe at
;turnafter Gondar the capital of Abyssinia, with his attendant
)>;s"S a' Brevedent, on the 2ist of July 1699. Bre¬
vedent died on the 9th of August; but Poncet lived
to execute his commission, by making a full cure of his
royal patient. On the 2d of May 1700, he set out on
his return for Europe, and arrived at Masuah without
any bad accident.
It has been already’ observed that the main end of
this undertaking was to procure an embassy from A-
byssinia to the French monarch ; and this end also was
gained. An ambassador was procured, but unluckily
not such a one as M, Maillet, the chief manager of the
he Abys- whole project desired. This man, intoxicated with
is adoi-11" a*3SUr^ notions of nobility and distinctions of rank,
sagree- could not make allowance for the difference between
hie to M. the appearance of an ambassador from a barbarous mo-
laillet, narch, however powerful, and one from the sovereign
of civilized and polite nation. The ambassador sent
by Yasous, therefore, having been originally no other
than a cook, could not be agreeable to a man of such
I a disposition. The presents sent by the Abyssinian
monarch, indeed, had they arrived, would have pro¬
bably conciliated matters. These were, an elephant,
some Abyssinian young women, &c. but unluckily the
elephant died, and the ambassador was robbed of all
the rest by a Turkish bashaw. Maillet, therefore na-
Iturally proud, imperious, and covetous, thought proper
to call in question the authenticity of Morat the am¬
bassador’s mission, to call Poncet himself a liar, and
le is not not to allow the former to proceed to France. The
JHowed to transactions on this occasion are set forth at length by
sTef10 ®ruce greatly to the disgrace of Maillet; but as
details of this kind would swell the present article be¬
yond due bounds, we must refer the curious reader to
the work just mentioned.
Thus the scheme of procuring an embassy from A-
byssinia having proved abortive, the next project of the
Jesuits was to get an embassy sent from France, whose
object was to be the cementing a perpetual peace be¬
tween the two nations, and to establish a lasting and
S I N I A.
commercial intercourse ; though, whatever friendship Abyssinia.
or good-will might take place, it was evident that  v~—
there was not a single article that could be exchan¬
ged between them, nor was there any ready com¬
munication between the two countries either by sea
or land. The person pitched upon as ambassadorM.de
was M. de Roule, vice-consul at Hamietta. He is Koule sent
characterised by Mr Bruce as “ a young man of some *r”1^ssa^or
merit, who had a considerable degree of ambition, jrrance-
and a moderate skill in the common languages spo¬
ken in the east : but absolutely ignorant of that of
the country to which he rvas going, and, what was
worse, of the customs and prejudices of the nations
through which he was to pass. Like most of his
countrymen he had a violent predilection for the dress,
carriage, and manners of France, and a hearty con¬
tempt for those of ali other nations : this he had
not address enough to disguise ; and this endangered
his life.” Besides these disadvantages, he had the mis¬
fortune to be under the displeasure of all those of his
own nation who resided at Cairo •, so that the mer¬
chants were very much averse to his embassy ; and, as
the Franciscans and Capuchins were his mortal enemies,
he had not a single friend in the world except Maillet
and the Jesuits. Unluckily the consul misled him in
one of the most material articles, and which was un¬
doubtedly of the utmost consequence to him in the ac¬
complishment of his purpose, viz. the presents neces¬
sary to be taken with him for the barbarous people
through whose country he was to pass. Brocades,
satins, and trinkets of various kinds, according to Mr
Bruce, were the proper wares ; but, instead of this, he
had taken along with him mirrors of various kinds,
with the pictures of the king and queen of France,
wearing crowns upon their heads. The former of
these subjected him to the imputation of being a ma¬
gician ; while the latter, if shewn to a Mahometan,
tvould bring upon him the charge of idolatry. The
worst misfortune of all was the malice and treachery
of the Franciscans, who had already prejudised against
him the people of the caravan with whom he was to
go, the governors of the provinces through which his
road lay, and the brutal and barbarous inhabitants of
Sennaar who lie in the way betwixt Egypt and Abys¬
sinia. The consequence of all this was, that he was yje jg H1Hr.
murdered at the last-mentioned place with all his reti-dered.
nue. The Franciscan friars, who had preceded him
to Sennaar, left it before his arrival, and returned im¬
mediately after. There cannot therefore be the least
doubt that they were the authors of his murder;
though the bigotted disposition of Louis XIV. prevent¬
ed all inquiry into the matter ; so that the particular
steps they took to accomplish their designs were never
published to the world.
The assassination of De Houle was preceded by that Yasous &«-
of Yasous emperor of Abyssinia, who fell by a conspi- sassinated.
racy of his wife and son, occasioned by a fit of jea¬
lousy in the former. He was succeeded by his son
Tecla Haimanout who had conspired against him. Be¬
fore his death, he had dispatched a message to the
king of Sennaar, requiring him to afford M. de Boule
protection at his court, and a safe conduct from
it; but when the messenger was within three days
journey of the capital of that kingdom, he received
news of the assassination of Yasous. On this he re¬
turned
88
A B Y S S I N I A.
Abyssiaia. turned in great liaste to Gondar, in order to have the
w-y—J letters of protection renewed by Tecla Haimanout
the reigning prince. llns was readily done : but
before the messenger could reach Sennaar, he was in¬
formed that De Koule was already assassinated j on
which he returned with still greater haste than be-
Tlie new fore. The Abyssinian monarch, provoked at such a
*mperor in-scant|a|oug violation of the law of nations, declared
tendps l^i^e'his intention of commencing hostilities against the
death. king °f Sennaar 5 and for this purpose assembled his
army. But this was scarcely done, before he was in¬
formed that a rival, named Amda Sion, had been
set up against him by the friends of his father Yasous,
and had been for some time privately collecting
troops to surprise him before he could be ready to
make any opposition. It was therefore necessary to
employ the army destined against Sennaar to reduce
this rebel to obedience ; and scarcely was this done,
but isbim- when the emperor himself was assassinated ; so that all
self mur- thoughts of revenging the death of M. de Roule were
laid aside.
Tecla Haimanout perished in 1706, and w'as sue*
ceeded by his uncle Tiffilis, or Theophilus 5 whose
first care was to apprehend all those suspected to have
been concerned in the death of his predecessor. Thus
the murderers of Yasous, whom Tecla Haimanout had
instigated, imagined themselves secure, and came to
court without any fear of danger: but no sooner did
Theophilus get them into his power, than he caused
them all to be put to death without exception ; the
JExecutiiJn queen herself being publicly hanged on a tree. Not
of the ^ satisfied with avenging the death of Yasous by the
dered.
Reign of
Theophi-
las.
queen
othev regi¬
cides.
Tigi re-
execution of his murderers, he did the same with those
of Tecla Haimanout j putting to death all who were
immediately in his own power, and commanding the
governors of the provinces to do the same with those
whom they could find within their jurisdiction. One
J-lgi 1C- U VSll* J    ” *    J
volts, but is 0f these, named Tigi, who had formerly been Betwu-
H ofzjH 1 • I*. a!   a.  .. f’s.l  I! ~
defeated,
taken, and
put ta
death.
  7   o ' J
det, having escaped into the country of the Galla,
raised a very considerable army, with which he invaded
Abyssinia, where he committed the most dreadful
cruelties. Theophilus engaged him on the 28th of
March 1709'-, when, with a force greatly inferior, be
gained a complete victory. A number of the Galla
fled to a church, hoping to be protected by the sancti¬
ty of the place ; but the emperor telling bis soldiers
that it was defiled by those who were in it, command¬
ed it to be set on fire, so that every one perished. Ti¬
gi, with his two sons, were taken prisoners, and put to
death. The king himself did not long survive his vic¬
tory ; falling sick of a fever, of which he died in Sep¬
tember 1709.
lane of So- After the death of Tbeophilus, the line of Solomon
iomon set by the queen of Sheba was superseded a second time,
aside. an(] a stranger of the name of Oustas seated on the A-
hyssinian throne. The extreme severity of Theophilus
in punishing the murderers of both Yasous and Tecla
Haimanout gave occasion to this ; for as both princes
had been assassinated in consequence of conspiracies
formed by the principal people of the nation, the num¬
ber of conspirators was so great, that the parties con¬
cerned had interest sufficient to influence the election
of the new monarch, even in this most capital respect,
of his not being a descendant of Solomon. Excepting
this single defect, he was in every respect worthy of
the kingdom, and was already the highest subject in it. Abyssinia,
Scarce was he seated on the throne, however, when a l-—v—
dangerous conspiracy was formed against him by the
very persons by whom he had been placed upon it.
Oustas baffled their designs, by seizing the principal
conspirators before they had time to bring their schemes
to a bearing: and several people of the first rank were
condemned to lose their noses, or to be put to death.
After this the emperor undertook an expedition a-
gainst the Shangalla, according to the barbarous cus¬
tom of the Abyssinian monarchs, who hunt these poor
people merely for the sake ol making slaves j slaugh¬
tering the men without mercy, as well as many ol the
women, and carrying oft only the boys and girls into
captivity. In this he met with perfect success j and
was about to attempt the conquest of the whole coun¬
try, when he was called back by the news that his
prime minister Tafa Christos was dead. While the'pheem-
emperor remained in his capital at Gondar, he was ta-peror falls
ken suddenly ill •, which he imputed at first to witch-“ck.
craft, and therefore used some antidotes 5 among which
the smoking of the palace with gunpowder was one.
But this was done so carelessly by the servants, that
the whole building was consumed; an accident look¬
ed upon by the people in general as a very bad omen,
especially as the king’s complaint increased every day.
At last the principal officers came to pay him a visit of
condolence, as they pretended $ but in reality to ob¬
serve the nature of his distemper, and to consult whe¬
ther or not it was likely to continue till they could fall
upon means to deprive him of the government. Ou¬
stas understood their intentions, and therefore summon¬
ed all his strength to assume for a moment the appear¬
ance of health j so that the officers found him as usual
engaged in business. Being thus disconcerted, it be¬
came necessary to make some apology for a visit so ex¬
traordinary and formal ; for which they were at first
somewhat at a loss 5 on recollection, however, they
told him, that hearing he had been sick, which they
happily found was not the case, they had come to make
a proposal concerning the succession ; professing a de¬
sire that he would quiet the minds of his own family,
and of the people in general, by appointing his son Fa-
sil successor to the throne after his decease. Oustas oustas de
gave them an equivocal answer j but the discourse con-posed, and
cerning Fasil happening to be overheard by the sol-David pro
diers, a violent mutiny ensued, and all the officers who c*a*me“
had come to visit Oustas were killed. Part of theempei
town was set on fire in the confusion ; and at last a
proclamation wras made, that David son of Yasous was
king of Abyssinia. The prince was then sent for from
the mountain, and arriving at Gondar, w'as crowned on
the 30th of January 17x4. The distemper of Oustas,
in the mean time continuing to increase, he died on theQustas>
loth of February the same year.
The new emperor was a rigid Alexandrian in prin-Reign 0f
ciple j but Oustas had been so far favourable to the David.
Catholics as to entertain some of their priests, though
in a private manner. As it was the custom, however,
to call a convocation of the clergy on the accession of
every new emperor, the monks and others insisted up¬
on one being called on the present occasion j the more
especially that a new Abuna was come from Egypt,
and the lenity shewn to the Catholics by Oustas had
excited the jealousy of the Abyssinian clergy in the
highest
A B Y S
Abyssinia, highest degree. This assembly proved fatal to three
i-—v-"»■> Romish priests, whom Onstas had protected and sup¬
ported for some time. They were brought before the
king and Abyssinian clergy j who shortly asked them,
whether they believed that the council of Chalcedon
was to be accepted as a rule of faith, and that Pope
Leo lawfully presided in it P To both these questions
they answered in the affirmative : on which, without
Three Ro- farther trial, they were condemned to be stoned ; and
wish priests ^ seri(-ence was instantly put in execution by the fu-
deatL rious and ignorant multitude, only one person in the
whole assembly exclaiming against it as unjust. The
priests being thus gratified in one instance, insisted
that Abba Gregorius, who had acted as interpreter
to the three just mentioned, should also be put to death ;
but this was prevented by David, who found, upon in¬
quiry, that he had only done so in obedience to the ex¬
press commands of Oustas his sovereign.
Here we must take notice, that though the faith of
Abyssinia is always said to be the same with that of
Alexandria, it is not for that reason to be imagined
that the clergy are all of the same mind. On the
contrary, many different parties exist among them,
who hate one another no less than all of them do the
church of Rome. The principal of these in the time
we speak of were the monks of Debra Libanos and
those of St Eustathius, to which last the emperor him¬
self belonged. On the arrival of a new abuna, it is
customary to interrogate him before the emperor and
assembly of the clergy, which of the two opinions he
adheres to. The emperor at present, not thinking
his presence necessary, sent the betwudet, with the prin¬
cipal persons of both parties, to hear the profession of
the new abuna, which was afterwards to be proclaim¬
ed to the people. The latter, probably not willing to
contend with either party, gave an equivocal answer.
But with this the king himself was dissatisfied j and
therefore, without consulting the abuna farther, he
caused it to be proclaimed, that the new abuna’s pro¬
fession was the same with that of the monks of St
Eustathius. This was highly resented by the monks
of Debra Libanos, who instantly ran to the abuna*
and from him received a profession directly contrary to
what had been proclaimed by the king’s order. Not
Dissensions satisfied with this, they continued their tumult, disre-
iinonc: the gar{l|ng the imminent danger they were in of falling
«!©rjy. under the king’s displeasure. One of their number
was so infatuated as to cry out, that he saw a cherub
with a flaming sword guarding the door of the house
where they were. Unluckily, however, they continu¬
ed their assembly so long, and behaved in such a sedi¬
tious manner, that the emperor sent against them a bo-
jGreat mai-^V of Pagan Galla-, who fell upon them sword in hand,
*acre of the killed upwards ol 100 of the ringleaders, and then sal-
'Hher- aUl* 0Ht ’nt0 ^ie street> destroyed indiscriminately eve¬
ry one they met.
The massacre continued till the next day at noon,
when a stop was put to it by the king’s proclamation.
The vast quantity of bloody so Wantonly shed, however,
could not but occasion great discontent throughout the
capital, and the bad effects of it soon appeared. The
king was universally hated, and numberless conspira¬
cies were talked of; but before any pretender to the
crown appeared, David himself fell sick, the cause of
which was found to be poison. The perpetrators of
VoL. I. Part I. f
The kinj
poisoned,
S I N I A. 89
this crime being known, were instantly put to death; Abyssinia.
but nothing could save the life of the emperor, who 1 v——'
died the 9th of March 1719, in great agony.
David was succeeded by his brother Bacufla ; who Reign of
in the beginning ot bis reign proved very severe and Bacuffa.
cruel, cutting off almost all the nobility who could be
supposed to have had any share in the conspiracies
and seditions of former reigns. In the latter part of
it be became much more mild, and was beloved by his
subjects. He was succeeded in 1729 by his son Ya-OfYa-
sous II. who continued long under the regency of hissous
mother; and as soon as he took the management of
affairs upon himself, was disturbed with continual sedi¬
tions and rebellions. In one of these the city of
Gondar was made a field of battle, and was so fre¬
quently set on fire, as to be almost entirely reduced to
ruins. Having at last succeeded in reducing all his Cultivate*
enemies to obedience, be encouraged and promoted the the ait* of
arts of peace, repairing and ornamenting his palaces, jnP®ace‘
which he employed some Greek artists. For this he
renounced the diversion of hunting, and the barbarous
expeditions against the Shangalla : but this way of life is lampoon*
proved so disagreeable to his turbulent subjects, that aed by his
severe satire was published against him, under the title suI,jects’
of “ The expeditions of Yasous the Little.” Indig-fnLd under"
nant at this reproach, he determined on an expedition expe(3itjoa
against the kingdom of Sennaar; and having made the against
necessary preparations, invaded it with a formidableSenHiiari
army, without the least pretence of provocation, or
making any declaration of war. As he proceeded in¬
to the country of the enemy, he allowed bis soldiers
everywhere to exercise the greatest cruelties, to destroy
every living creature with the sword, and every thing
combustible with fire. Some of the Arabs joined him
as he went along ; many more fled from his presence ;
and a body of them tried to oppose him. These last
were utterly defeated; and Yasous without delay pre¬
pared to march to Sennaar the capital of the kingdom.
As he still went on, the king Baady, being assisted byA divisioa
Hands prince of a territory named Dar Foor, surprised 0f hi* army
one division of his army so effectually, that they werecutofl’.
all cut off to the number of 18,000. Yasous, how¬
ever, still continued his destructive progress ; though
he gave over all thoughts of reducing the capital, or
subduing the kingdom. He returned triumphant to
Gondar, making a great show of the plunder he had
acquired ; though the dejected countenances of many
of his army showed that they were by no means plea¬
sed with expeditions of this kind. The king himself
was supposed to behold the distress of his subjects on
this occasion with a malicious pleasure, on account of
their impatience and turbulence in times of peace, and
their forcing him into a war when he had no inclina¬
tion for it. In a short time, however, the people were
perfectly comforted for the loss of their brethren. In Rej;gI-ous
the late unfortunate action they had lost all those holyuter.*ils rc-
utensils, which it is usual in Abyssinia to carry into the deemed at.
field of battle in order to ensure victory. Amongan extra**-
these was a picture of the crown of thorns which wasgant ral€'
put upon our Saviour’s head ; some pieces of the true
cross upon which he suffered ; a crucifix which had
spoken on many occasions ; with many other sacred re¬
lics of equal value. Soon after the battle all these
were redeemed by the priests at an extravagant rate ;
no less than 8oco ounces of gold having been given
M fos
go
The mes-
abuna in
suited and
robbed.
A B Y S
Abyssinia; for tlie speaking crucifix } and for the rest, we are to
suppose a proportional price had been paid. On the ar¬
rival of this trumpery at Gondar, the greatest rejoicings
were made, and Yasous was astonished at the people
having so soon forgot the loss of their countrymen and
relations.
Soon after these transactions the abuna died; but
though it was customary for the Abyssinian monarchs
to advance the money necessary to bring a new one
from Alexandria, Yasous found himself obliged to lay
a tax upon the churches for defraying it at this time,
having spent all his ready money in repairing and orna¬
menting his palaces. Three priests, consigned to the
sengiTs sent care of as many Mahometan factors, were sent to
for the new Egypt for the new patriarch ; but they were detained
for some time by the naybe or prince of Masuah, who
extorted from them one half of the money given by the
emperor for bringing the abuna from Cairo. Yasous
so sooner heard that they were detained at Masuah,
than he sent orders to Suhul Michael governor of Ti-
gre to refuse provisions to the inhabitants of Masuah,
which would soon reduce the naybe to obedience : but
as Michael intended soon to quarrel with the king
himself, he was not in any haste to obey the orders he
received. The travellers were therefore detained so
long, that on their arrival at Jidda, they found they
had lost the monsoon ; and, what was worse, the sche-
rlff of Mecca would not allow them to pass without a
fresh extortion. Their money was now exhausted j but
the rapacious scheriff put one of their number in pri¬
son 5 where he continued for a twelvemonth till the mo¬
ney arrived : and from this time these extortions were
changed into a stated tribute; 75 ounces of gold
(about 1861. sterling) being granted for (eave of pas-
the passage sage to Cairo for the abuna ; 90 ounces to the sche-
of the abu- riff, and as many to the naybe, for allowing the abuna
»a- to pass from Cairo : an agreement which subsists to this
day. Several other insults of this kind being received
from the naybe, Yasous at last discovered that there
was_a strict alliance betwixt him, the governor of Ti-
gre, and the Raharnagash ; any one of whom, had he
thought proper, could have crushed this pitiful prince
The empe- with the smallest effort. On this the emperor deter-
m-deter- mined to march against him in person j but was pre-
mines to vented by a rebellion which had been purposely excited
"e in the country of Azab and that of the Dobas. The
Masuah rebels were easily overthrown : but thus the expedition
but is pre- against the naybe was delayed for a year ; during which
Tented. interval the emperor sent for Michael to Gondar. This
order was positively refused, and a war ensued. Mi-
oovernor ofc^a8^’ unable to contend with the emperor in the open
field took to an high mountain, the usual refuge of
Abyssinian rebels. Here also his bad fortune pursued
him ; all his posts were taken by storm excepting one,
which, it was evident, would likewise have been carried,
though not without a very great expence of men. Here
Michael requested a capitulation : and to ensure favour¬
able terms, he desired to put into the hands of Yasous
a great quantity of treasure, which would otherwise be
dissipated among the common soldiers. This being
done, Michael descended with a stone upon his head,
as confessing himself guilty of a capital crime, with a
design to make submission to the emperor. This was
prevented for one day by a violent storm of wind and
tain j from which mcment the Abyssinians believe he
3
A stated
tribute for
Tjgre.
Michael
obliged to
capitulate.
S i N 1 A.
began converse with the devil; hut Mr BruCe informs Abyssinia,
us, that he has often heard him say it was Michael the v——
archangel who was his correspondent.
Yasous was firmly determined to put this rebel to Yasous is
death, notwithstanding the quantity of gold he had re-obliged to
ceived 5 nevertheless a promise was extorted from him Pard°n him
that he would spare his life. As soon as Michael came
into his presence, the emperor was failed with mdigna-ciinatj0j,
tion, retracted his promise, and ordered him to be
carried out and put to death before his tent door. The
execution of the sentence, however, was prevented by
the intercession of all the officers of any consideration
in the court or army. Such universal solicitation
could not be withstood : Michael was pardoned ; but
with these remarkable words, that the emperor washed
his hands of all the innocent blood which Michael
should shed before he brought about the destruction
of his country, which he knew he had been long medi¬
tating.
Michael continued for some time in prison 5 but was He isset'ai
afterwards set at liberty, and even restored to his go-liberty and
vernment at Tigre. No sooner was he reinstated in ^
this dignity, than collecting an army, he attacked Kas-j^^^1*5
mat! Woldo, governor of Amhara, defeated him in two
battles, and forced him to take refuge among the Gal-
la, whom he soon after bribed to murder him. In
other respects he behaved as a most dutiful subject,
gave the king the best intelligence, and supplied him
with soldiers better accoutred than he had ever before
beheld. He was also more humble than before his
misfortune j nor did an increase of his favour and in¬
fluence make him deviate from the line he had pre¬
scribed. Having begun to gain friends by bribery,
he continued to add one bribe to another to secure the
old, and to gain new ones by the same means, pre¬
tending all the while to no kind of dignity or honour,
not even to such as was justly due to his own rank.
Thus he became such a favourite with the emperor,
that he bestowed upon him the governments of En-
derta and Sire, in addition to that of Tigre 5 so that he
was now master of almost one half of Abyssinia. Eu-Cause of
ring the reign of Yasous, however, he attempted no-the great
thing. The foundations of the disturbances which civd 1,5
succeeded were laid by the queen-mother, towards the ^-byssuua.
end of" the reign of Yasous. This emperor had been
married when very young to a lady of Amhara, by
whom he bad two sons named Adigo and Aylo ; but
as his wife pretended to interfere in matters of state,
he was persuaded by his mother to banish both her and
her children to Wechne. After this his mother chose
a wife for him from among the Gal la ; a people of all
others the most obnoxious to the Abyssinians, both on
account of the horrid barbarity of their manners, and
the continual wars which from time immemorial had
taken place between the two nations. The new queen
was the daughter of one Amitzo, a prince who had
once hospitably entertained Bacuffa before he became
emperor j and his people were esteemed the least bar¬
barous of the whole. A prejudice against her, however,
against her offspring, and the emperor himself, never
to he effaced, now took place among the Abyssinxans j
hut this did not show itself during the reign of Yasous.
The emperor died on the 21st of June 1753, being the Deatil o(
24th year of his reign, not without suspicion of being Yasous,
poisoned by his mother’s relations, who were now at¬
tempting
ABYSSINIA.
Abyssinia,
teign of
:oa3.
The Gall a
introduced
into Abys-
fwo of
the king’s
imcies ar¬
rive, and
engross all
the power.
Kuhul Mi-
■hael ar¬
rives at
rourt.
&ing of
scnnaar
murdered.
>iate of the
lifferent
•arties.
tempting to engross the whole power of the empire into
> their hands.
On the death of Yasous, his son loas by the Galla
princess just mentioned succeeded to the throne with¬
out any opposition. The discontent which had taken
place in the former reign about the power assumed by
the relations of the old queen, now began to show it¬
self more openly j and it was complained that a relation¬
ship to her was the only way to preferment, by which
means the old families, whose merit had often saved the
state, were totally excluded from every share of favour.
On the accession of the young king, a party of Galla
horse, said to be about 1200 in number, were sent as
the portion of his mother; and these were quickly
followed by a number of private persons from motives
of curiosity, or hopes of preferment, who were embo¬
died to the number of 600 into a troop of infantry,
the command of which was given to Woosheka. The
great favour in which these people were at court soon
induced many others to make their appearance. Two
of the king’s uncles were sent for by his express desire j
and they brought along with them a troop of 1000
horse. By the time they arrived the queen was dead j
but her two brothers, named Brulhe and Lubo, finding
that the king put an entire confidence in them, deter¬
mined to make a party at court. This was easily ef¬
fected j every thing was governed by Gallas*, even the
king himself affected to speak their language ; while
the Abyssinians were to the last degree mortified at see¬
ing their inveterate enemies thus establishing a domi¬
nion over them in the heart of their own country. At
last the king thought proper to appoint his uncle Lubo
to the government of Amhara 5 but this produced such
excessive discontent, that he was fain to retract his no¬
mination lest a civil war should have ensued. While
the empire was thus divided into two parties, Suhul
Michael came to Gondar in a very splendid manner,
on an application from the exiled prince of Sennaar to
be restored to his kingdom. This prince, when con¬
ducted into the presence of the emperor, prostrated him¬
self before him, owned himself his vassal, and was put
in possession of the government of Kas el Feel upon the
frontiers, with a large revenue, where he w!is advised
to stay till the disputes which subsisted at that time
should subside. This salutary advice, however, he had
not prudence to comply with 5 but suffering himself to
be decoyed from his asylum in Atbara, was taken pri¬
soner and murdered.
In the mean time the Abyssinian prime minister,
Welled de 1’Oul, died. He had hitherto moderated
the fury of the opposite parties by his wise and prudent
conduct but no sooner was he taken out of the way,
than a most dreadful scene of confusion and civil war
took place, which raged with the utmost violence while
Mr Bruce was in Abyssinia, and seemed not likely to
come to any termination when he left it. The whole
empire was divided into two great factions : at the
head of the one was the old queen, mother of Yasous j
and at the head of the other, loas himself the emperor,
with his Galla relations. Matters were first brought
to a crisis by the imprudence of the emperor himself in
bestowing the government ot Begemder upon Brulhe
one of his Galla uncles. The government of this pro¬
vince had been lately resigned into the hands of the
queen by an old officer named Ayo ; and it was suppo¬
sed that his son named Mariam Barea, universally al¬
lowed to be one of the most accomplished noblemen of
the kingdom, was to succeed him in this government.
This opinion was farther confirmed by the marriage of
Mariam himself with Ozoro Esther, a daughter of the
old queen by her second husband. Unfortunately a
quarrel had happened between Kasmati Ayo, the old
governor of Begemder, and Suhul Michael, a little be¬
fore the resignation of the former, and continued unde¬
cided till Mariam took the office upon him. The oc¬
casion was quite trifling j nevertheless, as Mariam had
refused to submit to the decision of the judges, whom
he stigmatized as partial and unjust, insisting that the
king should either decide the affair in person, or that
it should be referred to the decision of the sword, he
thus fell under the imputation of being a disobedient
and rebellious subject. In consequence of ibis, loas
looked upon him ever afterwards with an evil eve j and
now deprived him, by proclamation, of the govern-Brulhe
ment of Begemder, giving it to his own Galla uncle !r,ac'e S°-
Brulhe, of whom we have already made so much men-Ltr"01
tion. This unexpected promotion threw the whole An~univerl
empire into a ferment. As Begemder was a frontier sal ferment
province bordering on the country of the Galla, there ellsues*
was not the least doubt, that, immediately on the ac¬
cession of Brulhe to his new office, it would be over¬
run by that race of barbarians, remarkable for their
savage manners almost beyond all the other nations in
Africa. This was the more dangerous, as there was
not above a day’s journey betwixt the frontiers of Be¬
gemder and Gondar, the capital of the whole empire.
Mariam Barea himself, who had a high sense of ho¬
nour, was particularly hurt at the manner in which he
was deprived of his dignity, and condemned with his
family to be subject to a race of Pagans, whom he had
often defeated in battle, and obliged to acknowledge
him as their superior. All remonstrance, however, was
vain. Brulhe, under the sanction of the imperial com¬
mand, advanced with an army to take possession of his
new dignity: but so exceedingly averse were the A-
byssinians to follow him in this expedition, that the
army disbanded itself several times after it had been
collected j and it took up almost a year before he could
proceed from the place where his camp was, at the lake
Tzana or Dembea, to the frontiers of Begemder,
though scarce a day’s journey distant. Mariam Barea Bs opposed
beheld his operations with great contempt, employing ^ Mar‘lllI>
his time in the dispatch of ordinary business, and en-JE5drea’
deavouring to reconcile himself to the king, but with¬
out success. As his last effort, he sent a remonstrance
to the emperor 5 in which, after many protestations of
duty and obedience, he reminded him, that, in his in¬
vestiture into the office of governor of Begemder, he
had sworn not to allow any of the Galla to enter his
province 5 that, should he deviate from the observance
of this oath, the safety of the princes in Wechne would
be endangered $ they would constantly he liable to the
invasions of the Pagans, and probably be extirpated, as
had already happened at two diflerent times ; and he
begged of the emperor, if he was determined to de¬
prive him of his government, to bestow it rather upon
some Abyssinian nobleman j in which case he promised
to retire, and live in private with his old father. He
had, however, formed a resolution, which he thought
it his duty to submit to the emperor, that if his ma-
M 2 jesty
92
Abyssinia,
ABYSSINIA.
Farther
j>ro motion
of Michael
Brulhe de¬
feated and
killed.
Michael
created
lias.
Commits
great de-
rastations,
jesty should think proper to come, at the head of a
Gal la army, to invade his province, he would retire to
the farthest extremity of it, till he was stopped by the
country of the Galla themselves and so far from mo¬
lesting the royal army, he might be assured, that
though his own men might be straitened, every kind of
provision should be left for his majesty. But if an
army of Galla, commanded by one ot that nation,
should enter the province, be would fight them at the
well of Fernay, on the frontiers, before one ot them
should drink there, or advance the length of a pike into
the province.
This remonstrance had no effect upon the emperor.
He returned a scoffing answer, announcing the speedy
arrival of Brulhe, whom he thought sure of victory :
but, at the same time, to show that he did not put his
confidence entirely in his prowess, lie created Suhul
Michael governor of Samen, which lay next to Tigre
in the way to Begemder, so that no obstruction might
lie in the way of that officer’s march to Gondar, in case
there should be any occasion for him. Mariam, pro¬
voked at the manner in which he was undervalued in
the king’s message, gave an ironical reply, in which he
alluded to the name of Brulhe, in the Abyssinian lan¬
guage signifying a kind of bottle; this he told him
would be broken on the rocks of Begemder, if sent in¬
to that country.
On receiving this last message from Mariam, the
king instantly ordered the army to be put in motion ;
but the Abyssinians had unanimously determined not
to act offensively against their countrymen. Brulhe
therefore was left to decide the affair with his Galla.
Mariam kept exactly to his word in the declaration he
had made to the king, not stirring out of his province,
nor allowing the least attempt to be made to harass his
enemv, till they were drawn up at the well above men¬
tioned, where he met them with his army. The Galla,
unsupported by the Abyssinian troops, were utterly un¬
able to bear the shock of Mariam’s army, and therefore
soon betook themselves to flight j but a part of them,
who were surrounded by the cavalry, fought valiantly
till they were all cut to pieces. Mariam had given the
most express orders to take Brulhe alive ; or, if that
could not be done, to allow him to make his escape.
One of his servants, however, observing him in the
field, pushed up through the enemy to the place where
he was, and running him twice through with a lance,
left him dead on the spot.
Mariam Barea was no sooner informed of the death
of his rival, than he cried out in great emotion, that
Suhul Michael, with the whole army from Tigre,
would attack him before autumn. In this he was not
deceived. loas instantly dispatched an express for Mi¬
chael, ordering his attendance, and investing him with
the dignity of Eas, by which lie became possessed of
unlimited power both civil and military. Michael
himself had for a long time seen that matters would
come to this crisis at last, and had provided for it ac¬
cordingly. He now'set out with an army of 26,000
men, all of them the best soldiers in the empire, and
10,000 of them armed with muskets. As he passed
along, his troops desolated the country wherever they
came, hut he encumbered his army by nothing useless 5
allowing his men to carry along with them neither wo¬
men, tents, beasts of burden, nor even provisions.
The subsistence of his troops was abundantly provided Abyssinia,
for by the miserable inhabitants of the provinces1——y—■««*
through which he passed ; and not satisfied with this,
he insisted on a contribution in money from all the di¬
stricts within a day’s march of those places where he
was; the least delay was followed by the slaughter
of the inhabitants and destruction of their houses.
Towns, villages, and buildings of every kind, were set
on fire as he passed along; the people fled from all
quarters to the capital for refuge, as from the face of
the most inveterate enemy ; and loas himself was now
sensible of his having been in the wrong to invest him
with such unlimited power. On his arrival at the ca-Arrives at
pital, Michael took possession of all the avenues, as ifGoudar.
he meant to besiege it j so that an universal consterna¬
tion ensued. Instead of offering any hostility, how¬
ever, he waited with the utmost respect on the empe¬
ror, proceeding immediately from the royal presence
to his own house, where he sat in judgment, as the
nature of his office required him to do. No sooner Executes
had he taken upon him this new office, however, than justice ira-
he executed justice in such a rigorous and impartial Partiaby.
manner as made the boldest offenders tremble. Some
parties of his own soldiers, presuming upon the licence
that had hitherto been granted them, entered Gondar,
and began to plunder as they had done in other placesj
but, on the very first complaint, their commander cau¬
sed 12 of them to be apprehended and hanged. Their
execution was followed by others in different quar¬
ters of the city ; after which he gave the charge of the
capital to three officers who were to preside over three
quarters, himself taking care of the fourth. Two ci¬
vil judges were appointed to assist each officer in a di¬
strict, two were left in the king’s house, and four of
them held a court of judicature in his own. Thus the
inhabitants finding, that instead of bloodshed and mas¬
sacre, they were to expect nothing but strict equity
and moderation, became reconciled to Michael the day
after his arrival, and lamented only that he had not
come sooner to relieve them from the anarchy and con¬
fusion in which they had been held so long. To so
great a degree of perfection indeed did he bring his le¬
gislation, that a very short time after he entered the
city, a loaf of bread, a bottle of water, and an ounce of
gold, were exposed in the market-place on the head of
a drum night and day for some time, without any one
offering to take them away. This was the more re¬
markable, as there was then a scarcity of provisions,
and Michael himself would allow hut a very scanty
supply of water to be carried into the city 5 thereby
giving the inhabitants to understand, that if he should
set fire to it as he had done to other places, it would
not be in their power to quench the flames.
The capital being thus secured in perfect obedience, Arapc]]e5
Michael next prepared to set out on his expedition a-against
gainst Mariam Barea. Sensible, however, that the Mariam
destruction of this worthy nobleman would be attend-IJaiea'
ed with a great degree of odium, he was resolved that
none of it, or at least as little as possible, should fall
upon himself. For this purpose, he insisted that the
emperor should march in person from Gondar, and
carry all his soldiers along with him. Thus he had an
opportunity of throwing the whole blame upon loas,
and representing himself as no more than a passive in¬
strument in the affair. He also took every occasion of
praising
A B Y S
Ibyssinia. praising his antagonist for his virtues, and censuring the
—y-—* emperor for attempting to cut off such an excellent of¬
ficer.
In the mean time Mariam Barea keeping exactly to
the terms of the last remonstrance he had sent to loas,
retired before him to the extremity of the province,
loas and Michael advanced furiously, burning and de¬
stroying every thing as they went along. An engage¬
ment at last ensued at a place called Nefas Musa,
on the extreme borders of Begemder, when Mariam
could not retreat without going out of the province.
fariamde-As the royal army was more than twice the number
iale^* of the other, and commanded by an officer of superior
skill, victory was not long of being decided in its fa¬
vour. Mariam with 12 of his officers, took refuge
etraycd in the country of the Galla ; but were immediately
jr tbe Gal-delivered up by that faithless people. He was put to
i, and death by Lubo the brother of Brulhe, who is said
urdered own hands to have cut his throat as a sheep
is commonly killed in this country, and afterwards to
have disfigured the body in a shocking manner. The
head was cut off, and carried to Michael’s tent, who
would not allow it to be uncovered in his presence.
It was afterwards sent to the family of Brulhe in the
country of the Galla, to shew them what attention
had been given to revenge his death ; and this displea¬
sed the Abyssinians even more than any thing that
had yet happened since the beginning of the contest.
oraeofblsThe 12 officers, who were taken along with him,
[Beers pro- sought protection in the tent of lias Michael, to which
lichae'r were suffere<l t° escape by Woosheka their keep¬
er. Lubo, however, intended likewise to have sacri¬
ficed them as he had done Mariam, and therefore sent
Woosheka to demand them : but no sooner had he un¬
folded his errand, than Michael, in a rage, called to his
attendants to cut him pieces before the tent door;
which would certainly have been done, had he not fled
with the utmost precipitation.
The scandalous ascendency which the Galla always
manifested over the king, had greatly displeased Mi¬
chael ; who expressed himself so freely on the sub¬
ject, that a coolness took place between them. An¬
other officer named JFaragna Fasti, a Galla by
birth, had insinuated himself into the king’s favour,
and greatly distinguished himself at the battle of
Nefas Musa. It was no wonder, therefore, that he
soon became a rival to Michael; and this rivalship
was greatly augmented by the following circumstance.
Near the field of battle at Nefas Musa was a house
of Mariam Barea, where Ozoro Esther his widow now
was. Being surrounded by pleasant and verdant mea¬
dows, Fasil encamped there for the sake of his caval¬
ry. No other design was at that time apparent; how¬
ever his presence greatly alarmed the princess. She
had along with her at that time a nobleman named
At/to Aylo, who had been at the battle of Sennaar j but
had there been terrified to such a degree, that he resol¬
ved to renounce the world ever after and turn monk.
In this character he was now with Ozoro Esther : and
though he refused to be concerned in any military af¬
fairs, he was still consulted by both parties as a kind
of oracle. In the present emergency, therefore, he told
the princess that there was only one way by which she
could secure herself from the cruelty of the Galla, and
becoming a prey to one or other of the murderers of
iisagree-
ent be-
>veen the
ing and
lichael.
S I N I A. 93
her husband; and that was by immediately espousing Abyssinia.
Has Michael. Ozoro was perfectly sensible of the c..~-v——
propriety of the advice, and therefore set out next
morning in company with Aylo to Michael’s tent.
Here she threw herself at his feet on the ground j and
refusing to rise, Aylo explained her errand, informing
the lias that she intended to bestow herself upon him
in marriage, as being the only person not guilty of her
former husband’s death capable of affording her pro¬
tection in her present situation. Michael saw clearly
the advantages attending such a match ; and therefore mi.unes
having caused the army to be drawn up in order of
battle, as if for a review, he sent for a priest, and was Esther,
married to the princess in the sight of all his men. The
ceremony was followed by the loud acclamations of the
whole army ; and loas was soon informed of the rea¬
son. He expressed his displeasure at the match, how¬
ever, in such unequivocal terms, that a mutual hatred
from that moment commenced. This was soon made
public by a very trifling accident. One day while the
army was marching, Michael being much incommoded
by the sun, which affected his eyes, threw a white hand¬
kerchief over his head to keep off the heat. This was
instantly told the king, who took it as an affront of¬
fered to himself j for in Abyssinia it is unlawful to co¬
ver the head on any occasion whatever in presence of
the emperor, or even within sight of the palace where
he lodges. loas was no sooner informed of the suppo¬
sed -affront, than he sent to the Has to know upon what
account he presumed to cover his head in his presence j
but though the covering was instantly taken off, it was
thought that no atonement could ever be made for such
a grievous offence. Soon after this a quarrel happening
between Fasil and a person named Gusho, likewise a
man of great consequence^ complaint was made to the
lias, who, as civil judge, summoned both parties before
him. Fasil absolutely refused to obey any such jurisdic¬
tion ; and the affair being laid before the other judges, it
was given in favour of Michael, and Fasil declared to be .
in rebellion. This was followed by a proclamation
priving him of his government of Damot, and every }vijGjmei
other public office he held. Fasil, however, had no and Fasil.
mind to submit to this disgrace 5 and therefore, alter
holding a long conference with the king, departed
with his army, encamping on the high road betwixt
Hamot and Gondar, where he intercepted the provisi¬
ons coming from the southward to the capital. This w?as
followed by an attempt to assassinate the Has. A shot a shot fired
was fired from one of the windows of the palace into at Michael
the house where he sat in judgment 5 the distance be-^rom l!)e.
ing so small, that he could easily be seen from the pa-|j^ce "^n*
lace while thus employed. The ball, however, missed
Michael, but killed a dwarf who was standing before
him fanning the flies from his face. As it was evident
that this shot must have been fired with the knowledge
of the king, it was rightly judged to be the commence¬
ment of hostilities. loas instantly removed to a di¬
stance, but sent Woosheka with orders to the Has to
return to Tigre without seeing his face j declaring, at
the same time his own uncle Lubo governor of Begem¬
der and Amhara. Michael could scarcely be prevailed
upon to see Woosheka, and told him that he should
certainly be put to death the next time he appeared in
his presence. Next day loas sent a message to the Has
by four judges, commanding him to return to i igre
without
Fasi] de¬
feated by
Michael.
g4 A B Y S
Abyssinia, without the least delay, under pain of his highest dis-
pleasure. Michael returned a formal answer, conclud¬
ing, that he expected the king himself to be ready to
march against Fasil to-morrow. To this an absolute
refusal was given : on which Michael issued a procla¬
mation, commanding all the Galla to leave the capital
next day under pain of death : in case of disobedience
they were declared outlaws, and liable to be killed by
the first that met them if they were found 24 hours al¬
ter the proclamation in the capital, or to the same pe¬
nalty if they were found in the kingdom after ten
days. An engagement took place a short time after,
in which Fasil was totally defeated, and obliged to re¬
tire into Damot. In this engagement some of the
king’s black horse were taken. These were all slaves,
and subject to no other commands but those of his ma¬
jesty himself. Their appearance clearly showed that
they must have been sent by the king to fight against
the Has. All of them were therefore brought before
the latter, and interrogated by whose orders they had
come to the battle. Two refused to give any answer,
and had their throats cut in presence of their compa¬
nions. A third plainly told him that they had been
sent by the king •, who had likewise ordered an Arme¬
nian to fire out of the palace window at Ras Michael.
On this the prisoners were dismissed ; but assassins in-
loas assas. stantly dispatched to put an end to the king’s life *,
sinated. which they accomplished, and buried him in a church
dedicated to St Raphael.
Hannes set On the death of loas, Michael, now absolute master
up by Mi- of Abyssinia, set up for emperor Hannes, brother to
chael, and j.|ie ja).e jc|n„ Bacuffa, an old man who had resided al-
soon after 0 - - - -    - *
poisoned.
most all his lifetime on the mountain of Wechne, and
being entirely unacquainted with the affairs of the
world, was on this account probably supposed by Mi¬
chael to be the more proper for his purposes. Han¬
nes had been maimed by the loss of his hand, on pur¬
pose to incapacitate him for the throne 5 but this ob¬
jection was laughed at by the Ras. He found him,
however, possessed of a quality much more inimical to
his own purposes •, and that was, an absolute aversion
at meddling with the affairs of government: so that he
could not by any means be induced to take the field
against Fasil. Michael therefore was obliged to set out
by himself; but thinking it improper to leave a king
of any kind behind him in the capital, he had the old
man poisoned before his departure} putting his son
Tecla Haimanout in his place.
Jleign of The young emperor, according to Mr Bruce’s ac-
Tecla Hai-count, was of a fair complexion, less tawmey than a
manout. Neapolitan or Portuguese, owing to his having been
born in the mountain. He was endowed with many
princely accomplishments *, and so much attached to
Michael Ras, that he called him Father from the time
of his accession, waiting upon him when indisposed
with the affection of a son. There being now no ob¬
jection, therefore, Michael marched against Fasil with¬
out delay, and entirely defeated him on the 3d of De¬
cember 1769. On this occasion Woosheka was taken
prisoner, and afterwards Head alive, notwithstanding
the intercession of some of Michael’s officers for him ;
his skin being afterwards formed into a bottle. This
piece of cruelty was attributed to Ozoro Esther j whom
Air Bruce represents as the most humane and merciful
of women j though he is obliged to allow, that on the
present occasion, as well as on every other which re-
Fasil de
i'eated.
S 1 N I A.
garded her former husband, she entirely forgot her Abyssinia,
character. The night on which this miserable victim '—^
was destroyed, she appeared in the king’s tent dressed
like a bride $ and in a little time returned in triumph
to Gondar.
Soon after these transactions Air Bruce entered A-Mr Bruce1!
byssinia. He arrived at Masuah when there was only arr*val and
a report of Hannes’s being ill, and Air Bruce was sup- a<^e,ntur.es
posed to be his physician, though in truth that emperor ySSi'
was already dead. Here he was ill-treated by the
naybe, with a design to extort money, and afterwards
probably to put him to death, as was his custom with
other strangers. He escaped the danger, however, by
the protection of Achmet, nephew and heir apparent to
the naybe, and by his own prudent and resolute beha¬
viour •, threatening his adversaries with the arrival of a
British man of war in case of any injury 5 showing the
Grand Signior’s protection 5 making use of the name
of Ras Alichael, now so formidable, and to whom he had
obtained a recommendation, &c. After many vexa¬
tions and delays, he was at last allowed to depart; and
a guide, by name Saloome, was sent along with him.
This man was brother-in-law to the naybe, and a profes¬
sed Christian j but a traitor in his heart, and who wish¬
ed to do every thing in his power to hurt our traveller.
He was furnished with another guide, however, by his
friend Achmet, to inform him where to pitch his tent,
and other necessary particulars.
On the 15th of November 1769 Mr Bruce left Ar-Sets out
keeko, on the eastern coast of Africa, and proceeded from Ar-
southwards for Gondar the capital of Abyssinia. Af-keeko-
ter an hour’s journey, he pitched his tent near a pit
full of rain water, where he remained all day ; and in
the evening a messenger arrived from the naybe, who
took away the guide Saloome. Next day the latter
returned in company with Achmet the naybe’s ne¬
phew already mentioned. The latter caused him de-
posite in his hands Saloome’s full hire, as though he
had gone the whole length he had promised. Four
of the men were commanded to go back to Ar-
keeko, and others put in their place : after which
Achmet told Air Bruce that he was not to take the
road through Dobarwa, though near, because it be¬
longed to the naybe ; but that Saloome knew another
by a place called Duvan, which belonged to himself,
and where he could insure him of a good reception.
In this journey, he told him, that he would be obliged
to cross the mountain of Taranta, the highest in Abys¬
sinia 5 but the fatigue of this would be more than re¬
compensed by the assurance of safety and the curiosity
of the place. Taking leave of Achmet in a very
friendly manner, therefore, Mr Bruce with his com¬
pany finally set out on their journey the evening of the
16th. For the short space they had travelled, the Accountoi
ground was covered with grass broader in the leaf than the countr
ours 5 but in a little time the soil became hard, dry, through
gravelly, and full of acacia or Egyptian thorn. Nextwhic1'he
day (the 17th) they changed their course from south toi aSbt
west *, and soon arrived at a range of mountains stand¬
ing so close to one another, that there was no passage
between them excepting what was worn by torrents of
water ; the bed of one of which consequently now be¬
came their road. In the evening they pitched their
tent at some distance from this torrent, which had
scarcely any water in it when they left it; but all the
afternoon there had been an appearance of rain, with
much
A B Y S S I N I A.
Abyssinia.
uddeit
v eil of a
wrent.
it from
lose of
urope.
much thunder and lightning* at a distance. On a
sudden they heard a noise among the mountains louder
than thunder ; and instantly saw the torrent, swelled
immensely by the distant rains, now running like a
rapid river, and the foremost part of it advancing in its
bed in a body of water about the height of a man.
Having run for some time in this violent manner, the
current, no longer supplied by the rains, began to di¬
minish, and by the next morning was quite gone.
Among these mountains the nights are cold even in
summer.
On the 18th the journey was resumed in the bed
of the torrent, which now scarcely had any water :
though the stones were rendered very slippery by the
quantity of rain which had fallen. Leaving this dis¬
agreeable road, they came to a fine rivulet; which
beincf the first clear water they had seen from the time
Mr Bruce left Syria, was exceedingly agreeable. They
proceeded along the banks of this river for some time ;
and soon after leaving it, they came to another of the
same kind : but next day were obliged to resume their
course in the bed of a torrent. The mountains in this
part of the world are excessively rugged and full of
precipices, entirely destitute of soil, and covered with
loose stones of a black colour. On the side of the tor¬
rent in which they marched, however, there grew very
otesof large sycamore trees, some of them little less than 7^
ie African feei: in diameter. Their branches afforded shelter to an
ids dillcr-infinite number of birds ; many of them without song ;
but others having notes very different from The Euro¬
pean kinds, and peculiar to the continent of Africa.
Most of those which had very beautiful colours were
of the jay or magpie kind. The trees were loaded with
figs 5 but they came to nothing, by reason of the igno¬
rance of the savages, who knew not the process of ca-
prification. The streams of water themselves, which
at this season were found so delightful, run only after
October ; they appear on the other side of the moun¬
tains when the summer rains in Abyssinia are ceasing;
at other times no water is to be met with, excepting
what is contained in stagnant pools.
On the 20th of November they began to ascend the
high mountain of Taranta. Their road was now ex-
inTaran-ceedingly rugged and uneven, intersected with mon¬
strous gullies and holes made by the torrents, as well
as by huge fragments of rocks which had tumbled
down. It was with the utmost difficulty that they
could carry the astronomical'instruments up the hill ;
in which work Mr Bruce himself, and one of his at¬
tendants named Yasine, a Moor, bore a principal share.
Tiie otily misfortune they met with was, that their
asses being unloaded, and committed to the care of a
single person, refused to ascend this barren mountain ;
and in spite of all that their drivers could do, set off at
a brisk trot for the fertile plains below. Luckily,
however, they were afterwards recovered by four
Moors sent after tbern, and the journey resumed with¬
out any material interruption. The beasts were now
become much more tractable, having been seen and
pursued by the hyaenas with which that mountain a-
bounds.
Taranta is so destitute of earth, that there was no
possibility of pitching a tent upon it; so that our tra¬
vellers were obliged to take up their lodging in one of
the caves with which it abounds. The under part of
95
icount of
e raoun-
the mountain produces in great plenty the tree called Abyssinia.
ho!quail, which was here observed in greater perfec- 1—
tion than in any other place throughout the whole
journey. The middle part produced olives which car¬
ried no fruit; and the upper part was covered with
the oxycedras or Virginia cedar, called rznse in the lan¬
guage of the country. On the top is a small village of the vil-
named llalai, inhabited by poor shepherds, who keeplage Halai,
the flocks of the rich people of the town of Hixan be-and inbabi-
low. They are of a dark complexion, inclining to yel-tauts ot.tJ,e
low ; their hair black, and curled artificially by means n,0unlams
ot a stick, and which our author supposes to be the
same with the crisping-pin mentioned Isa iii. 22. The
men have a girdle of coarse cotton cloth, swathed six
times round their middle; and they carry along with
them two lances, and a shield made of bulls hides. Be¬
sides these weapons, they have inf heir girdles a crook¬
ed knife with a blade about 16 inches in length, and Beantifbl
three in breadth at the lower part. There is here great cattle, Sec.
plenty of cattle of all kinds ; the cows generally of a
milk white, with dewlaps hanging down to their knees ; ,
their horns wide like those of the Lincolnshire cattle ;
and their hair like silk. The sheep are all black, both
here and throughout the province of Tigre; having
hair upon them instead of wool, like the rest of the
sheep within the tropics; but remarkable for its lustre
and softness, without any bristly quality. On the top
of the mountain is a plain, which, at the time our au¬
thor w'as there, they had sowrn with wheat. The air
seemed excessively cold, though the barometer wras not
below 590 in the evening. On the west side, the ce¬
dars, which on other parts are very beautiful, degene¬
rate into small shrubs and bushes.
The road down this mountain was for some time Town of
nothing inferior in ruggedness to what they had met Dixan de»
with in ascending it; but as they approached Dixan,sclibed<,
it became considerably better. This is the first town
on the Abyssinian side of Taranta. It is seated on
the top of a hill of a form exactly conical, surrounded
by a deep valley like a ditch; and no access to it but
by a path which winds round the hill. The inhabi¬
tants v’ere formerly exterminated by Michael Has ;
and the succeeding race, in Mr Bruce’s time, w'ere of
a very indifferent character, being, as he says, com¬
posed of the worst people from the territories of the
Baharnagash and the province of Tigre, on both of
which it borders. Here he was in danger from the
treachery of Saloome, who wished to have decoyed him
into the power of some assassins. Finding that this
could not be done, be surrounded Mr Bruce and his
retinue with a body of armed men ; hut they were
dispersed by the authority of Hagi Abdelcarder, the
friend of Achmet, who had received orders to provide
for the safety of the travellers. The only trade car¬
ried on here is that of buying and selling slaves ; who
are stolen from Abyssinia, chiefly by the priests, and
sent into Arabia and India.
The next stage was from Dixan to Adovva, capital journey to
of the province of Tigre. Leaving Dixan on the 25th Adowa, ths
of November, they pitched their tent the first night caPital ol
under a large spreading tree called c/nroo, which Mr Tl»re'
Bruce says was one of the finest he saw in Abyssinia,
being about feet in diameter. They had been joined
by some Moors driving 20 loaded asses and two bulls,
which in that country are likewise used, as beasts of
burden.
p6
ABYSSINIA.
Abyssinia.
His trea¬
cherous
guide obli¬
ged to re¬
turn.
The coun¬
try becomes
more fertile
as he passes
along.
Adowa de¬
scribed.
Visits the
ruins of
A xu hi.
burden. Here, our author says, he recovered a tran¬
quillity of mind which he had not enjoyed since his ar¬
rival at Masuah ; but they were now entirely without
the dominions of the naybe, and entered into those of
the emperor. Saloome attended them for some way,
and seemed disposed to proceed ; but one of the com¬
pany, who belonged to the Abyssinian monarch, having
made a mark in the ground with his knife, told him,
that if he proceeded one step beyond that, he would
bind him hand and foot, and leave him to be devoured
by wild beasts.
Being now in a great measure delivered from their
fears and embarrassments, the company proceeded on
their journey with pleasure, through a much better
country than they had hitherto passed. In some places
it was covered with wild oats, wood, high bent grass,
&c. but in not a few places rocky and uneven. Great
flocks of a bird as large as a turkey, called in the Am-
haric language, erkoom, were seen in some places. A
large animal of the goat kind, called agaxan, was
found dead and newly killed by a lion. It was about
the size of a large ass, and afforded a plentiful repast.
Numbers of kolquall trees were also seen ; and the sides
of the river Habesh were adorned with a beautiful tree
of the same name with the stream. There were in this
place also many flowers of various kinds, particularly
jessamine. The mountains of Adowa, which they came
in sight of on the 5th of December, are totally unlike
any thing to be met with in Europe ; their sides being
all perpendicular rocks, like steeples or obelisks of
many different forms.
Adowa, though the capital of an extensive province
or kingdom, does not contain above 300 houses ; but
occupies nevertheless a large space, by reason of the in¬
closures of a tree called wanxey, which surround each
of the houses. It stands on the declivity of a hill, si¬
tuated on the west side of a small plain surrounded by
mountains. It is watered by three rivulets which ne¬
ver become dry even in the greatest heats. A manu¬
facture is carried on here of a kind of coarse cotton
cloth which passes for money throughout all Abyssinia.
The houses are built of rough stone cemented with
mud ; lime being only used in the construction of those
at Gondar, and even there it is very bad.
Our traveller was very hospitably entertained at A-
dowa, by one Janni, with whom he resided during his
stay there. Leaving it on the 17th of December, he
visited the ruins of Axum, once the capital of the em¬
pire. Here are 40 obelisks, but without any hiero¬
glyphics. A large one still remains, but the two lar¬
gest are fallen. There is also a curious obelisk, of which
lie gives a figure, with other antiquities which our li¬
mits will not allow us to enlarge upon. The town has
at present about 600 houses, and carries on manufac¬
tures of the coarse cotton cloth already mentioned. It
is watered by a small stream which flows all the year,
and it is received into a fine bason 150 feet square,
where it is collected for the use of the neighbouring
gardens. Its latitude was found by Mr Bruce to be
140 6' 36" north.
On the 20th of January 1770, our traveller set out
from Axum. The road was at first smooth and plea¬
sant, but afterwards very difficult ; being composed
of stones raised one above another, the remains of a
magnificent causeway, as he conjectures. As they pas¬
sed farther on, however, the air was every where per- Abysshd*
fumed by a vast number of flowers of different kinds, -v—~
particularly jessamine. One species of this, named
agam, was found in such plenty, that almost all the
adjacent hills were covered by it 5 the whole country
had the most beautiful appearance ; the weather was
exquisitely fine, and the temperature of the air agree¬
able. In this fine country, however, Mr Bruce had
the first opportunity of beholding the horrible barbari- Monstrous
ty of the Abyssinians, in cutting oft' pieces of flesh from barliaiity,
the bodies of living animals, and devouring them raw $^n^bys&l
but notwithstanding this extreme cruelty, they have the n
utmost horror and religious aversion at pork of every
kind ; insomuch that Mr Bruce durst not venture to
taste the flesh of a wild boar, just after having assisted
in the destruction of five or six.
During the remaining part of the journey from A-
dowa to Sire, the country continued equally beautiful,
and the variety of flowers and trees greatly augmented;
but as a report was propagated that lias Michael had
been defeated by Fasil, they now met with some insults.
These, however, were but trifling; and on the 22d in
the evening they arrived safely at Sire, situated in N.
Lat. 140 4/ 35".
This town is still larger than Axum ; but the houses Sire de-
are built of no better materials than clay, and covered scribed’
with thatch ; the roofs being in the form of cones,
which indeed is the shape of all those in Abyssinia.
It stands on the brink of a very steep and narrow val¬
ley, through which the road is almost impassable. It
is famous for a manufacture of cotton cloth, which, as
we have already observed, passes for money throughout
the whole empire. At some times, however, beads,
needles, antimony, and incense, will pass in the same
way. The country in the neighbourhood is extremely
fine; but the inhabitants are subject, by reason of the
low situation, to putrid fevers. On leaving it on the
24th, eur travellers passed through a vast plain, where
they could discern no hills as far as the ey_e could reach,
excepting some few detached ones standing on the plain,
covered with high grass, which the inhabitants were
then burning. The country to the northward is flat
and open. In the way to Gondar, however, lies that
ridge of mountains called Samen; of which one named
Lamalmon is the most remarkable, and by some suppo-
ed to be the highest in Abyssinia. Betwixt Sire and
these mountains the river Tacazze runs, which, next to
the Nile, is the largest in Abyssinia. Mr Bruce in¬
forms us that it carries near one third of the water
which falls on the whole empire; and when passing it,
he saw the marks of its stream, the preceding year, 18 Xacaz?#
feet perpendicular above the bottom; nor could it be river de-
ascertained whether this was the highest point to which scribed,
it had reached. It has its source in the district of
Angot, rising from three sources like the Nile, in a
flat country, about 200 miles to the S. E. of Gondar.
It is extremely pleasant; being shaded with fine lofty
trees, the water extremely clear, and the banks adorn¬
ed with the most fragrant flowers. At the ford where
they crossed, this river was fully 200 yards broad, and
about three feet deep ; running very swiftly over a
bottom of pebbles. At the very edge of the water the
banks were covered with tamarisks, behind which grew
tall and stately trees, that never lose their leaves. It
abounds with fish ; and is inhabited by crocodiles and
hippopotami ;
ABYSSINIA.
d»ys»mSa» Hippopotami; the fotfmer of wlircH frequently carry off
—~-y ■ > people who attempt to cross the river upon blown-up
skins. The neighbouring woods are full of lions and
hysenas. The Tacazze is marked by Mr Bruce in bis
map as a branch of the Astahovas, which falls into the
Nile. The latitude of the ford was found to be 130
42' 45" .
euntain- This river was passed on the 26th of January j after
is country mir travellers entered into the country of Sa-
soribed men ’ ^ie Sovernor which, Ayto Tesfos, had never
acknowledged the authority of Has Michael, nor any
of the emperors set up by him since the death of loas.
The country therefore was hostile j but the uncertainty
of the event of the war, and the well-known severity
of Michael’s disposition, preserved our traveller and
his company from any insult, excepting a feeble and
unsuccessful attempt to extort money. Here Mr Bruce
observes that the people were more flat nosed than any
he had hitherto seen in Abyssinia. The path among
the mountains was for the most part exceedingly dan¬
gerous, having a precipice of vast height close by it
which way soever you turn. The mountains appeared
of very extraordinary shapes ; some being like cones j
others high and pointed, like columns, pyramids, or
obelisks. In one place a village was observed in such
a dangerous situation, that scarce the distance of a yard
intervened between the houses and a dreadful precipice.
Below it is a plain of about a mile square, covered with
citron and lemon trees. A river named Mai-Lumi
rises above this village, and falls into the wood, where
it divides into two ; one branch surrounding the north
and the other the south part of the plain 5 then falling
down a rock on each side, they unite ; and having
run about a quarter of a mile farther, the stream is
precipitated in a cataract ico feet high. The lions
and hyaenas were very numerous among these moun¬
tains, and devoured one of the best mules our travellers
ctreme had. The hysenas were so bold, that they stalked
racily of ahout as familiarly as dogs, and were not intimidated by
'the discharge of fire arms. Their voracity was such,
imalmon ate ^ie bodies of those of their own species
mntsiii which our travellers had killed in their own defence,
seribed. On the yth of February they began to ascend La-,
malmon by a winding path scarcely two feet broad, on
the brink of a dreadful precipice, and frequently in¬
tersected by the beds of torrents, which produced vast
irregular chasms in it. After an ascent of two hours,
attended with incredible toil,, up this narrow path,
they came to a small plain named Kedus or St Michael,
from a church of that name situated there. This plain
is situated at the foot of a steep cliff, terminating the
western side of the mountain, which is as perpendicular
as a wall, with a few trees on the top. Two streams
of water fall down this cliff into a wood at the bot¬
tom ; and as they continue all the year round, the
plain is thus preserved in continual verdure. The air
is extremely wholesome and pleasant. On ascending
to the very top of the mountain, where they arrived
on the 9th of February, our travellers were surprised
to find, that though from below it had the appearance
of being sharp pointed, it was in reality, a large plain,
full of springs, which are the sources of most rivers in
this part of Abyssinia. These springs boil out of the
earth, sending forth such quantities of water as are suf¬
ficient to turn a mill. A perpetual verdure prevails •,
Vol. I. Part I, -f-
97
and it is entirely owing to indolence in the husbandman Abvssini*.
il he has not three harvests annually. Lamalmon stands ' v-'~ ^
on the north-west part of the mountains of Samen j but
though higher than the mountains of Tigre, our author
is ot opinion that it is considerably inferior to those
which are situated on the south-east. The plain on the
top is altogether impregnable to an army, both by rea¬
son of its situation and the plenty of provisions it affords
for the maintenance of its inhabitants ; even the streams
on the top are full of fish. Here the mercury in the
barometer stood at 2d-£ inches.
During the time our travellers remained at La-Journey la
malmon, a servant of Has Michael arrived to conductGondar-
them safely to the capital, bringing a certain account
of the victory over Fasil : so that now the difficulties
and dangers of their journey were over. The country
appeared better cultivated as they approached the ca¬
pital ; and they saw several plantations of sugar canes
which they grow from the seed. In some places,
however, particularly in Woggora, great damage is
done by swarms of ants, rats, and mice, which destroy
the fruits of the earth. Mr Bruce had already expe- Mhchief
rienced the mischief arising from a small species 0fdonft
ant, whose bite was not only more painful than thea
sting of a scorpion, but which issued out of the ground
in such numbers as to cut in pieces the carpets and
every thing made of soft materials to which they could
have access.
W hen Mr Bruce approached the capital, he wras dres-Arrival at
sed like a Moor: and this dress he was advised to keep^ond*11-
until he should receive some protection from govern¬
ment; his greatest, indeed his only, danger "arising
from the priests, who were alarmed at hearing of
the approach of a Frank to the capital. This was the
more necessary, as the emperor and Michael lias were
both out of town. For this reason also he took up his
residence in the Moorish town at Gondar; which is
very large, containing not fewer than 3000 houses.
The only inconvenience he underwent here wras the not
being allowed to eat any flesh : for we have already ta¬
ken notice of a law made by one of the emperors, that
none of his subjects should eat flesh but such as had
been killed by Christians : and a deviation from this
would have been accounted equal to a renunciation of
Christianity itself. Here he remained till the 15th of
February ; when Ayto Aylo waited upon him, and ad¬
dressed him in the character of physician, which he
had assumed. By this nobleman he was carried to the Mr Bruce
palace of Koscam, and introduced to the old queen. hltroduced
His advice was required for one of the royal family whoto t^ie
was ill of the smallpox ; but a saint had already under-<iUeeH*
taken his cure. The event, however, proved unfortu¬
nate ; the patient died, and the saint lost his reputa¬
tion. Our limits will not allow us to give any parti¬
cular account of the steps by which Mr Bruce arrived
at the high degree of reputation which he enjoyed in
Abyssinia. In general, his success in the practice of me¬
dicine; his skill in horsemanship and the use of fire- arms,
which by his own account must have been very extraor¬
dinary ; his prudence in evading religious disputes ; as
well as his personal intrepidity, and presence of mind, Is promo-
which never once failed him, even in the greatestted
held in
great esti-
emergencies; all conspired to render him agreeable to
people of every denomination. By the king he was^jjjj^j
promoted to the government of lias-el-Feel, was his
N constant
98 A B Y S
Abyssinia, constant attendant on all occasions, and was with him
v..,. ;n severa} military expeditions j but never met with any
opportunity of distinguishing his personal valour, though
he had the command of a body of horse at one of the
battles fought at a place named Serbraxos. Thus ho¬
noured and employed, he had an ample opportunity of
exploring the sources and cataracts of the Nile, as
well as the geography and natural products of the
whole country ; obtaining also leave at last to re-
Tlis depar- lJOme. We cannot, however, praise the be-
tdie fi n.i nev0]ence 0f his spirit at his departure. It has al-
ttte coun- ,ii • i c
trv. ready been observed, that he was in some danger Irom
the priests on his first arrival, on account of their
suspecting him to be a Jesuit; for that is the mean¬
ing which they affix to the word Frank or European.
As he constantly attended the established worship of
the country, however, and carefully avoided all disputes
on the subject of religion, he became at last not only
unsuspected, hut very intimate with many of the princi¬
pal ecclesiastics. From one of these, named Tensa Chri¬
stos, he asked a benediction immediately before he de¬
parted ; which piece of unexpected humility so affected
the priest, that it brought tears in his eyes. The bene¬
diction was conveyed in the simple form, “ God bless
you.” A troop of inferior priests who attended would
needs bless him also ; and probably were pleased at ha¬
ving it in their power to bestow a benediction publicly
on a man of such consequence: but to the blessings of
these poor monks Mr Bruce replied in English, “ Lord
send you all a halter, as he did Abba Salama!”
This Abba Salama had been an ecclesiastic of great
consequence; but of a very dissolute life, and at last
hanged for his crimes. The monks imagined he had
been recommending them to their patriarch Abba Sala¬
ma, and with great devotion answered “ Amen.”
.Event of The history of the war after Mr Bruce’s arrival is
the war he-related at great length in his work. The king Teola
t^1'e ke Haimanout still kept his ground, and was at last ac-
u ' knowledged by almost the whole empire, though suc¬
cess did not always attend his arms. An usurper,
named Socinios, w'as reduced and made a servant in
the king’s kitchen ; but was afterwards hanged for
theft, lias Michael, notwithstanding all his skill in
military affairs, was not able to get the better of
Fasil; and his excessive cruelty, avarice, and ambition
disgusted every one. An attempt was even made to
assassinate him ; and his spiritual friend (Michael the
archangel, according to his own report, or the devil,
according to that of the Abyssinians) at last forsook
him ; so that he was carried off prisoner by a party of
the rebels. After this misfortune he was much deject¬
ed, imputing it to the want of the spiritual assistance
just mentioned, and which it seems had withdrawn it¬
self some time before. His wife Ozoro Esther, whom
Mr Bruce characterizes as the handsomest woman he
ever saw, was in great favour with the king at the time
cur traveller left Abyssinia. As the king himself was
a handsome young man, there is no improbability in
supposing with Mr Bruce, that “ they were not insensi¬
ble to each other’s meritsand as she was sometimes
honoured with a private audience, where Michael him¬
self “ bore no part in the conversation,” we shall conclude
our history of this singular empire by a conjecture, that
soon after Mr Bruce’s departure, Michael either died
by course of nature, he being then very old, or was cut
S I N I A.
off by his enemies; on which Tecla Haimanout, ha- Abyssinia
viug fully settled the affairs of his empire, became pos- -y—J
sessed of the beautiful Ozoro Esther, and commenced
his reign with great glory.
With regard to the geographical description of an-Geograpliy
cient Ethiopia, little can be said; as not even the boun-”! ^I.lclfnt
daries of the empire itself, much less those of the par- ^la*
ticular districts which composed it, were known. The
ancient writers, however, agreed that it was very moun¬
tainous : but they mention no mountains of any conse¬
quence excepting Garhata and Elephas, whose situation
is not well ascertained, though it is generally supposed
that they answer to the mountains of Tigre. The most
noted cities were Axum, Napata, Premis or Premnis,
Melis, Mondus, Abalis, Mosylon, Caloe, Opone, &c.
The nations which inhabited ancient Ethiopia have
already been enumerated ; and it is not to be supposed tants
that all, or indeed any two of them, would agree in
many respects. The ancient historians, however, give
the following information. They had many laws which Sic.
were very different from those of other nations; espe-^'101’105,
cially their laws relating to the election of kings. The
priests chose the most reputable men of their body, and
drew a large circle around them, which they were not
to pass. A priest entered the circle, running and
jumping like an Egipan or satyr. He of those that
were enclosed in the circle who first catched hold of
the priest, was immediately declared king ; and all the
people paid him homage, as a person intrusted with
the government of the nation by Divine Providence.
The new-elected king immediately began to live in the
manner which was prescribed to him by the laws. In
all things he exactly followed the customs of the coun¬
try ; he paid a most rigid attention to the rules esta¬
blished from the origin of the nation, in dispensing, re¬
wards and punishments. The king could not order a
subject to be put to death, though he had been capi¬
tally convicted in a court of justice, but lie sent an
officer to him, who showed him the signal of death.
The criminal then shut himself up in his house, and
was his own executioner. It was not permitted him
to fly to a neighbouring country, and substitute banish¬
ment for death ; a relaxation of the rigour of the law,
with which criminals Avere indulged in Greece.
We have the following extraordinary information
with regard to the death of many of their kings: The
priests of Mei’oe, who had acquired great power there,
when they thought proper dispatched a courier to the
king to order him to die. The courier was commis¬
sioned to tell him, that it was the will of the gods, and
that it would be the most heinous of crimes to oppose
an order which came from them. Their first kings
obeyed these groundless despotical sentences, though
they were only constrained to such obedience by their
own superstition. Ergamenes, who reigned in the
time of Ptolemy the second, and who was instructed in
the philosophy of the Greeks, was the first who had
the courage to shake off this iniquitous and sacerdotal
yoke. He led an army against Meroe, where, in more
ancient times, was the Ethiopian temple of gold ; when
he put all the priests to the sword, and instituted a new
worship.
The friends of the king had imposed on themselves
a very singular law, which was in force in the time of
Diodorus Siculus. When their sovereign ffad lost the
use ■ ij
ABYSSINIA.
f Lib. iii.
24.
Abyssinia, use of any part of his body, by malady, or by any other
' y accident, they inflicted the same infirmity on them¬
selves ; deeming it, for instance, shameful to walk
straight after a lame king. They thought it absurd
not to share with him corporeal inconveniences j since
we are hound by the ties of mere friendship to parti¬
cipate the misfortunes and prosperity of our friends.
It was even customary among them to die with their
kings, which they thought a glorious testimony of their
constant loyalty. Hence the subjects of an Ethiopian
king were very attentive to his and their common pre¬
servation ; and therefore it was extremely difficult and
dangerous to form a conspiracy against him.
The Ethiopians had very particular ceremonies in
their funerals. According to Ctesias, after having salt¬
ed the bodies, they put them into a hollow statue of
gold which resembled the deceased 5 and that statue
was placed in a niche on a pillar which they set up for
that purpose. But it was only the remains of the rich¬
est Ethiopians that were thus honoured. The bodies
of the next class were contained in silver statues ; the
poor were enshrined in statues of earthen ware.
Herodotus * informs us, that the nearest relations of
the dead kept the body a year in their houses, and of¬
fered sacrifices and first fruits during that time to their
deceased friend j and at the end of the year, they fixed
the niche in a place set apart for the purpose near their
town.
The Ethiopians made use of bows and arrows, darts,
lances, and several other weapons, in their wars, which
they managed with great strength and dexterity. Cir¬
cumcision was a rite observed amongst them, as well as
among the Egyptians, from very early antiquity 5
though which of these nations first received it, cannot
certainly be known. The Ethiopian soldiers tied their
arrows round their heads, the feathered part of which
touched their foreheads, temples, &c. and the other
projected out like so many rays, which-.formed a kind
of crown. These arrows were extremely short, point¬
ed with sharp stones instead of iron, and dipped in the
virus of serpents, or some other lethiferous poison, in¬
somuch that all the wounds given by them were attend¬
ed with immediate death. The bows from which they
shot these arrows were four cubits long j and required
so much strength to manage them, that no other na¬
tion could make use of them. The Ethiopians retreat¬
ed fighting, in the same manner as the Parthians ; dis¬
charging volleys of arrows with such dexterity and ad¬
dress, whilst they were retiring full speed, that they ter-
ribly galled the enemy. Their lances or darts were
of an immense size, which may be deemed a farther
proof of their vast bodily strength.
Thus far chiefly with regard to the Ethiopians who
lived in the capital, and who inhabited the island of
Meroe, and that part of Ethiopia which was adjacent
to Egypt.
There were many other Ethiopian nations, some of
which cultivated the tracts on each side of the Nile,
and the islands in the middle of it 5 others inhabited
the provinces bordering on Arabia ; and others lived
more towards the centre of Africa. All these people,
and among the rest those who were born on the banks
of the river, had flat noses, black skins, and woolly
hair. They had a very savage and ferocious appear¬
ance ; they were more brutal in their customs than in
i*iod. Sic.
?• 102.
their nature. They were of a dry adust temperament;
their nails in length resembled claws : they were igno¬
rant of the arts which polish the mind : their language
was hardly articulate ; their voices were shrill and
piercing. As they did not endeavour to render life
more commodious and agreeable, their manners and
customs were very different from those of other nations.
When they went to battle, some were armed with
bucklers of ox hides, with little javelins in their hands ;
.others carried crooked darts j others used the bow 5
and others fought with clubs. They took their wives
with them to war, whom they obliged to enter upon
military service at a certain age. The women wore
rings of copper at their lips.
Some of these people went without clothing. Some¬
times they threw about them what they happened to
find, to shelter themselves from the burning rays of the
sun. With regard to their food, some lived upon a cer¬
tain fruit, which grew spontaneously in marshy places ;
some ate the tenderest shoots of trees, which were de¬
fended by the large branches from the heat of the sun ;
and others sowed Indian corn and lotos. Some of them
lived only on the roots of reeds. Many spent a great
part of their time in shooting birds j and as they wore
excellent archers, their bows supplied them with plen¬
ty. But the greater part of this people were sustained
by the flesh of their flocks.
The people who inhabited the country above Me-
ro£ made remarkable distinctions among their gods.
Some, they said, were of an eternal and incorruptible
nature, as the sun, the moon, and the universe •, others
having been born among men, had acquired divine ho¬
nours by their virtue, and by the good which they had
done to mankind. They worshipped Isis, Pan, and
particularly Jupiter and Hercules, from whom they
supposed they had received most benefits. But some
Ethiopians believed that there were no gods j and when
the sun rose, they fled into their marshes, execrating
him as their cruellest enemy.
These Ethiopians differed likewise from other na¬
tions in the honours which they paid to their dead.
Some threw their bodies into the river, thinking that
the most honourable sepulchre. Others kept them in
their houses in niches : thinking that their children
would be stimulated to virtuous deeds by the sight of
their ancestors ; and that grown people, by the same
objects, would retain their parents in their memory.
Others put their dead bodies into coffins of earthen
ware, and buried them near their temples. To swear
with the hand laid upon a corpse, was their most sa¬
cred and inviolable oath.
The savage Ethiopians of some districts gave their
crown to him who of all their nation was best made.
Their reason for that preference was, that the two first
gifts of heaven were monarchy and a fine person. In
other territories, they conferred the sovereignty on the
most vigilant shepherd ; for he, they alleged, would be
the most careful guardian of his subjects. Others chose
the richest man for their king j for he, they thought,
would have it most in his power to do good to his sub¬
jects. Others, again, chose the strongest 5 esteeming
those most worthy of the first dignity who were ablest
to defend them in battle.
The Jesuit missionaries were the first who gave any Account of
information to the Europeans concerning this country 5tbeniission-
N 2 andaries*
I oo
Abyssinia, and indeed, excepting them and the late accounts by
w——y ——/ Mr Bruce, we have no other source of information con¬
cerning it. Louis XIV. of France appointed six Je¬
suits to this mission, and furnished them with suitable
presents for the emperor and the principal nobility.
The admission of these missionaries was facilitated by
a dangerous scorbutic disorder, which had attacked Ya-
sous and his son, and for which they wished to have the
advice of an European physician. Maillet, the French
consul at Cairo, wishing the Jesuits to have the honour
of the mission, disappointed the views of Friars Paschal
and Anthony, two Franciscans, who were first thought
of, and recommended Charles Poncet, a Frenchman,
who bad been bred a chemist and apothecary, and Fa¬
ther Brevedent as his servant, to Hagi Ali, aMahome-
metan factor at Cairo, for the desired purpose. The
Franciscans attempted the destruction of Poncet and
his attendants 5 but Poncet arrived safe at Gondar on
the 21st of July, 1699, and having perfectly cured
his royal patient, set out on the 2d of May, 1700, on
his return for Europe, and arrived in safety at Masuah.
Brevedent died at Gondar soon after their arrival. An
embassy on the part of the Abyssinian monarch was de¬
feated by the interference of Maillet j but the Jesuits
concerted another mission from France, and the person
appointed as ambassador was M. de Houle, vice-consul
at Damietta. This mission was very improperly con¬
ducted j the merchants at Cairo opposed it; the Fran¬
ciscans obstructed it, and it terminated in the murder
of the ambassador in the province of Sennaar.
The missionaries confirm what is said by the ancients,
that Abyssinia is a very mountainous country. The
provinces of Begemder, Gojam, YValeka, Shoa, &c.
according to them, are only one continued chain of
mountains. Many of them were said to be of such
enormous height, that the Alps and Pyrenees are but
mole hills in comparison of them. Those called Aorni
were said to be of this kind j but Mr Bruce informs us,
that these accounts are greatly exaggerated. Amongst
those mountains, and even frequently in the plains,
there are many steep and craggy rocks to be met with
of various and whimsical shapes j some of them so smooth,
that men and oxen are raised to the top by means of
engines. The tops of these rocks are covered with
woods and meadows, full of springs and streams of wa¬
ter ; of which Mr Bruce has given us an account in
his description of Lamalmon. The most remarkable of
these, according to the authors we are now speaking of,
is that called Aruba Gesken, mentioned in the course of
this article as one of the mountains used for a prison to
the princes of the blood. Its top is described as only
half a league in breadth, though it is said that it would
require near half a day to go round it.
Mr Brace’s Modern Ethiopia, or Abyssinia, as it ia now called,
account of is divided, according to Mr Bruce, into two parts,
its diyi- named Tigre and Amhara ; though this rather denotes
si0ns* a difference in the language than the territory of the
people. The most easterly province properly so called
is Masuah. It is of considerable length, but no great
breadth 5 running parallel to the Indian ocean and Red
sea, in a zone of about 40 miles broad, as far as the
island Masuah. The territories of the Baharnagash
include this province as well as the districts of Azab
and Habab. In the former are mines of fossil salt,
which substance in Abyssinia passes current instead of
ABYSSINIA.
money. For this purpose the mineral is cut into square
solid pieces about a foot in length. Here also is a kind
of mint from which great profits are derived. The Ha¬
bab is likewise called the land of the Agaazi or Shep¬
herds j w'ho speak the language called Gee%, and have
had the use of letters from the most early ages. This
province was formerly taken by the Turks, when the
rebellious Baharnagash Isaac called them to his assist¬
ance against the emperor Menas. From that time the
office fell into disrepute, and the Baharnagash at present
has much dess power than formerly. The province of
Masuah is now governed by a Mahometan prince or
officer called a naijbe.
Tigre is bounded on the~east by the territories of
the Baharnagash, of which the river Mareb is the boun¬
dary on the east, and the Tacazze on the west. It is
about 200 miles long from north to south, and 120
broad from west to east. All the merchandise sent
across the Red sea to Abyssinia, or from Abyssinia
across the Red sea, must pass through this province,
so that the governor has his choice of it as it goes
along. Thus the province itself isr very wealthy ; and
as the Abyssinian fire-arms are brought from Arabia,
the governors of Tigre, by purchasing quantities of
them, may easily render themselves very powerful. No
arms of this kind can be sent to any person without his
permission ; nor can any one buy till the governor has
first had an offer.
Sird was some time ago united to Tigre, on account
of the misconduct of its governor $ but was disjoined
from it at the time Mr Bruce was in Abyssinia, with
the consent of Ras Michael, who bestowed the govern¬
ment of it upon his son. It is about 25 miles long,
and as much in breadth. Its western boundary is the
Tacazze.
Samen is a very mountainous province lying to the
westward of the river Tacazze, about 80 miles long,
and in some places 30 broad, though in most it is much
narrower. It is mostly inhabited by Jews.
Begemder lies to the north-east of Tigre. It is
about 180 miles long and 60 broad 5 bounded by the
river Nile on the west. It comprehends the moun¬
tainous country of Lasta j and there are now several
small governments dismembered from it. The inhabi¬
tants are fierce and barbarous, but reckoned the best
soldiers in Abyssinia ; and it is said that this province
with Lasta can furnish 45,000 horsemen. It abounds
with iron mines, which in Abyssinia would be very va¬
luable if properly managed. It is also wrell stored with
beautiful cattle. Near the south end it is cut into vast
gullies, seemingly by floods, of which we have no ac¬
count. This province is reckoned the great barrier
against the incursions of theGallaj and though they
have often endeavoured to make a settlement in it, they
have never yet found it practicable. Several of their
tribes have been cut off in the attempt.
Next to Begemder is the province of Amhara, in
length about 1 20 miles, and somewhat more than 40
in breadth. It is very mountainous ; and the men are
reckoned the handsomest in all Abyssinia. In this pro¬
vince is the mountain or rock Geshen, formerly the re¬
sidence ot the royal family. This province is parallel
to Begemder on the south 5 being separated from it by
the river Bashilo. On the west it is bounded by the
Nile. The river Geshen is another boundary.
Walaka
Abyssim*,
ABYSSINIA.
Abyssinia.
Walaka lies between the rivers Gesben and Samba.
It is a low unwholesome province, having Upper Shoa
to the southward. It was in this province that the
only surviving prince of the family of Solomon was
preserved after the massacre by Judith, formerly men*
tioned ; and on this account great privileges were con¬
ferred upon the inhabitants, which in some degree
continue to this day. The governor is considered as
an ally, rather than a subject, of the emperor of Abys¬
sinia •, and to preserve his independency, he has allow¬
ed the Galla to surround his province entirely, yield¬
ing up to them the territory of Walaka above mention¬
ed. Trusting to the valour of his own people, he is
under no apprehension of his barbarous neighbours
the Galla. This province is also remarkable for the
monastery of I3ebra Libanos, where the famous saint
Tecla Haimanout, the founder of the power of the
clergy, was bred.
Gojam is remarkable for having in it some of the
sources of the Nile. It is bounded on the north by
the high mountains of Amid Amid, on the south by
the river Nile, on the west by another river named
Gult, and on the east by the river Temci •, on the
north-east it has the kingdom of Damot. It is about
40 miles long from north to south, and somewhat
more than 20 in breadth from east to west. It is
very populous, but the men are accounted the worst
soldiers in Abyssinia. There is great plenty of very
beautiful cattle.
Beyond the mountains of Amid Amid on the east lies
the country of the Agows ; on the west it has Bure,
Umbarma, and the country of the Gongas; on the
south, those of Damot and Gafat $ and Dingleber on
the south.
Dembea occupies all the space along the lake of the
same name, from Dingleber below the mountains bound¬
ing Guesque and Kuara. Mr Bruce is of opinion, that
the lake has formerly overflowed the whole of it \ and
the decrease of this lake he brings as an instance of the
decrease of large pools throughout the world.
To the south of Dembea is the country of Kuara,
bordering on that of the Shangalla, the Macrobii of the
ancients. The neighbouring countries, inhabited by
Pagan savages, produce gold, which is introduced in
plenty into this province. None is produced in the
province itself, nor indeed does Mr Bruce mention any
part of Abyssinia where gold is naturally found. In the
lower part of this country is a,colony of Pagan blacks
named Gavjar ; derived, according to our author, from
the black slaves who came into the country with the
Arabs after the invasion of Mahomet. These deserting
their masters, formed the colony we speak of j but it is
now more increased by vagabonds from other parts than
by the multiplication of the inhabitants themselves.
The governor of this country is one of the great officers
of state : he has kettle-drums of silver, which he is al¬
lowed to heat through the streets of Gondar j a privi¬
lege allowed to none hut himself. This privilege was
conferred upon the first governor by David II. who
conquered the country.
The frontier countries of Narea, Ras-el-Feel, Tchel-
ga, &c. are wholly inhabited by Mahometans, and the
government of them is usually given to strangers.
The country is very hot, unwholesome, and covered
with thick woods. The people are fugitives from all
nations, but excellent horsemen; making use of no Abyssin
other weapon but the broadsword, with which, how-
ever inadequate we might suppose the weapon to be,
they will attack the elephant or rhinoceros.
According to Mi* Bruce the empire of Abyssinia is
bounded on the south by a vast chain of mountains,
extending with very little interruption from 340 to
440 E. Long, and between 8° and 90 N. Lat. In
more prosperous times it extended beyond these
southward, particularly into the kingdom of Adel j
but the mountains just mentioned are undoubtedly
to be reckoned its natural boundaries on this side.
On the east and north-east it has the Red sea, ancf
on the south-east the kingdom of Adel. On the west
and north its boundaries are less distinctly marked ;
having on both these quarters the barbarous kingdom
of Sennaar, whose limits will no doubt frequently vai*y
according to the fortune of war betwixt the two prin¬
ces. From Arkeeko, situated near the foot of the ba-
saltes mountains, in about N. Lat. it extends
to near 70 N. Lat. where the mountains of Cafla, the
most southerly province of Abyssinia, terminate. A-
long the coast of the Red sea lie the territories inha¬
bited by the Hazorta Shiho, the district of Engana
Shibo, and the kingdom of Dancali, including the
territory of Azab and the salt pits already mentioned.
To the westward of these is the province or kingdom
of Tigre, including the country of the Dobas, part of
the kingdom of Bali, and that of Dawaro. Still far¬
ther west are those of Sire, Lasta, Amhara, the great¬
est part of Bali, and part of Fatigar, which last reaches
beyond the mountains. Proceeding still in the same
direction, we come to Tcherkin, Tchelga, Abargale,
Salao, Begemder, Shoa, and Ifat; reckoning always
from north to south j Tcherkin, for instance, being to
the northward of Tchelga, &c. Shoa extends a con¬
siderable way to the westward $ so that, besides Ifat, it
has to the south of it also the kingdoms of Hade and
Cambut; the latter extending beyond the southern
ridge of mountains. To the westward are Ras-el-Feel,
Dembea, Gojam, and Damot; and beyond these are
the kingdoms of Bembea, Bizamo, Gooderoo, and Gu-
raque j those of Narea or Enarea and Caffa occupying
the south-west corner of the empire.
The climate of Abyssinia, though, like other parts
of the torrid zone, it was formerly thought to be un¬
inhabitable, is not only tolerable, but in general tem¬
perate and healthy* In this respect, however, the
uneven surface of the country exposes different situa¬
tions to the effects of heat and cold, of dryness and
moisture, and of a free circulation or a stagnation of
the atmosphere, in very various degrees. On the
mountains, and in the higher parts of the country,
the sky is clear and serene, the air is cool and refresh¬
ing, and the people are healthy and sprightly;
whilst those who live in some of the valleys, in the vi¬
cinity of marshes, and in sandy deserts, experience the
pernicious influence of excessive heat, and of a moist,
stagnant, and suffocating air ; so that the climate de¬
pends upon soil and situation as much almost as upon
the latitude. Mr Bruce observes, that on the highest
mountain of the ridge called Lamalmon, the thermo¬
meter stood at 32° in the depth of winter, the wind
being north-west j clear and cold, but attended only
with hoar frost* This, he adds, vanished into dew
aftey
102
ABYSSINIA.
Abyssinia, after a quarter of an hour’s sun ; nor did he ever see
'-—-■v—“*■' any sign of congelation of water upon the top of
the highest mountains. The barometer stood at 19°
9' at noon of the same day, and the thermometer was
at 78°. He observed hail to lie for three hours in the
forenoon on the mountains of Amid Amid. The
range of the barometer and thermometer, according
to Mr Bruce’s register kept at Gondar from February
19. 1770, to May 31. 1771, will appear from the fol¬
lowing table.
April 29. 1
6£ A. M. S
Mar. 29. 1
2i p. M. \
April 19* 7
12 Noon. $
July 7. 1
12 Noon. ^
Barom. Thermom. Wind.
22.11 69° S.
20.11 75° E.
91* W.N.W.
21.6 54!0 W.
Diseases.
The rainy season commences in April or the beginning
of May, when the sun becomes vertical, and ends in
September. The rains generally cease about the 8th
of September ; a sickly season follows till they begin
again, about the 20th of October $ they then continue
constant, but moderate till the 8th of November.
All epidemic diseases cease with the end of these rains.
In order to avoid the inconveniencies that attend the
overflowing of their rivers during this season, as well
as on account of the greater salubrity of elevated situa¬
tions, the Abyssinians have built many of their towns
and villages on the mountains. Their houses are ge¬
nerally very mean, consisting only of one story, and
constructed with straw and laths, earth and lime 5
though there are some of stone and better materials.
It is a mistaken notion, however, that they live in tents,
and not in houses. In a climate like that of Abyssinia,
subject to scorching weather for six months, and to de¬
luges of rain, storms of wind, thunder and lightning,
and hurricanes, such as are unknown in Europe, for
the other six, it is not probable that they should choose
to live in tents, after having known how to build such
cities as Axum. In many of the towns and villages,
the houses are separated by hedges, which being always
green, and intermixed with flowers and fruit trees at
certain distances, afford an agreeable prospect, and con¬
tribute also to their salubrity.
The inhabitants of Abyssinia are subject to violent
fevers, which commonly prove fatal on the third day.
Those who survive to the fifth day often recover, mex-e-
ly by drinking cold water, and by repeatedly throwing
cold water upon them in their beds. The bark is
the most effectual remedy ; which in critical cases, says
Bruce, should be frequently repeated in small doses, and
perfect abstinence observed, unless from copious draughts
of cold water. Another common disease in Abvssinia,
is the tei'tian fever, which is in no respect different
from our tertian, and is successfully treated in the same
manner. All fevers terminate in intermittents, and if
they continue long in dysenteries, which are always
tedious, and very frequently mortal. Bark and ipe¬
cacuanha, in small quantities, water, and fruit not
over ripe, have been found the most effectual remedies.
The dysentery, commencing with a constant diarrhoea,
is seldom cured, if it begins with the rainy season ;
; 3
otherwise small doses of ipecacuanha either remove it, Abyssim*,
or change it into an intermittent fevex1, which yields to 1——v——
the bark. Another endemial disease is called /iat?zeer,
the hogs or the swine, and is a swelling of the glands
of the thi’oat, and under the arms, which by ineffectual
attempts for producing suppuration, and opening the
tumours, becomes a running sore, and resembles the
evil. In connection with this disorder, we may men¬
tion those swellings to which the whole body is
subject, but more particularly the arms, thighs, and
legs, sometimes accompanied with ulcers in the nose
and mouth, which deface the smoothness of the skin,
and which on this account are much dreaded by the
Abyssinians. The two last diseases sometimes yield
to mercurials j but the last is speedily and completely
cured by antimonials. Another complaint afflicts
those who are in the habit of di'inking stagnant wa¬
ter. It is caWed farenteit, or the worm of Pharaoh, and
appears in all parts of the body, but most frequently
in the legs and arms. It is a worm with a small black
head and a hooked beak, of a whitish coloux-, and a
white body of a silky texture, resembling a small ten¬
don. The natives seize it by the head, and wind it
gently round a piece of silk, or a bird’s feather, and
thus by degrees they extiact it without any inconveni¬
ence, or permanent scar. Mr Bruce suffered much from
this complaint, and the breaking of the worm in the
operation of extracting it. The most terrible of all
the diseases of this climate is the elephantiasis. The
cicuta, mercury, and tar-water, were unsuccessfully
tided in this complaint; the greatest benefit was de¬
rived from whey made of cows milk. To the alter¬
nation of scorching heat and chilling cold, thin cloth¬
ing, the use of stagnant putrid water for four months,
and other such causes, these diseases may be partly, if
not wholly ascxdbed. The smallpox was introduced
into Abyssinia at the time of the siege of Mecca, about
the year 356, and the Abyssinian army was the first
victim to it.
The great difference of climate, owing to the vast and
extent and variety of elevation in different parts of this'c^flab'e
empire, is very perceptible in its soil and productions. tiolls
The mountains in many places are not only barren, but
altogether inaccessible, except by those who make it
their constant practice to climb amongst them : and
even by them they cannot be ascended without great
difficulty and danger. The shapes of these mountains,
as we have already had occasion to observe, are very
strange and fantastical : exceedingly different from those
of Europe *, some resembling towers and steeples, while
others are like a board or slate set up on end $ the base
being so narrow, and the whole mountain so high and
thin, that it seems wonderful how it can stand. In the
valleys, however, and flat parts of the country, the soil
is excessively fruitful, though in the warmest places
grain cannot be brought to perfection. Wine is also
made only in one or two places •, but the greatest pro¬
fusion of fruits of all kinds is to be met with every
where, as well as many vegetables not to be found in
other countries. There is a vast variety of flowers,
which adorn the banks of the rivers in such a manner
as to make them resemble fine gardens. Among
these a species of rose is met with, which grows upon
trees, and is much superior in fragrance to those
which grow on bushes. Sena, cardamom, ginger, and
cotton,
ABYSSINIA.
i°3
Ibyssinte.
i hints dc-
^ uibed by
If Bruce.
cotton, are likewise produced here in great quantities.
Among the variety of rare plants to be met with in A-
byssinia, Mr Bruce particularly describes the following.
i. The papyrus, the ancient material for paper: which
our author supposes to have been a native of Ethiopia,
and not of Egypt as has been supposed. 2. Balessan,
balm, or balsam plant j a tree growing to the height
of 14 or 15 feet, and used for fuel along with other
trees in the country. It grows on the coast of the
Red sea, among the myrrh trees behind Azab, all the
way to Babelmandel. This is the tree producing the
balm of Gilead mentioned in Scripture. 3. The sassa,
myrrh, and opocalpasum trees. These grow likewise
along the coast of the Red sea. The sassa or opocal-
pasurn is used in manufactures j and, according to our
author, resembles gum adragant, probably tragacanth.
The tree which produces it grows to a great size, and
has a beautiful flower, scarce admitting of description
without a drawing. 4. The ergett, a species of the
mimosa, is of twm kinds ; one called ergett y'dimmo, or
the bloody ergett, from the pink colour of its filaments ;
the other ergelt el krone., or the horned ergett, with a
flower resembling the acacia vera or Egyptian thorn.
These were both found on the banks of a river named
Amo, near the gi’eat lake Dembea. 5. Ensete, an her¬
baceous plant, growing in Narea, in swampy places 5
but is supposed to grow equally well in any other
part of the empire, where there is heat and moisture
sufficient. It forms a great part of the vegetable food
of the Abyssinians. It produces a kind of figs, but
these are not eatable. When used for food, it is to be
cut immediately above the small detached roots, or
perhaps a foot or two higher, according to the age of
the plant. The green is to be stripped from the upper
part till it becomes white \ and when soft, it affords an
excellent food when eaten with milk or butter. 6.
Kolquall, a kind of tree, only the lower part of which
is woody, the upper part being herbaceous and succu¬
lent. The flowers are of a beautiful golden colour,
and the fruit turns to a deep crimson } so that the trees
make a very beautiful appearance. The whole plant
is full of a very acrid and caustic milk. 7. Rack is a
large tree, growing not only in Abyssinia but in many
places of Arabia Felix. Its wood is so hard and bit¬
ter, that no worm will touch it; for which reason it is
used by the Arabs for constructing their boats. It
grows, like the mangrove, among the salt-water of the
sea, or about salt springs. 8. Gir-gir, or Geshe-el-aube,
a kind of grass found about Ras-el-Feel, growing to
the height of about three feet four inches. 9. The
kantuffa, a very noxious species of thorn, much more
troublesome than any with which we are acquainted,
and growing to the height of eight or more feet.
The flowers have a strong smell like the flower mignio-
net. 10. The gaguedi, is a short tree only about nine
feet high, a native of Lamalmon. The flowers, which
are yellow, and very beautiful, turn towards the sun like
those of the helianthus. 11. The wansey, a tree corn-
man throughout all Abyssinia, flowers exactly on the
first day the rains cease. It grows to the height of
18 or 20 feet; having a thick bark and close heavy
wood ; the first part of which is white, but the rest of
a dark colour. The flowers are of a beautiful white
colour ; but it does not appear to possess any other
remarkable property, though it is held in great esti¬
mation by the Abyssinians, and is even worshipped Abyssinia.
by the Galla. 1 2. The farek, or Bauhinia acumina- —v  *
ta, grows in the country immediately adjacent to the
sources of the Nile ; being found by Mr Bruce scarce
400 yards distant from the fountain. 13. Kuara, is
a beautiful tree, growing in the south and south-west
parts of Abyssinia. It has a fruit like a bean, of a
red colour, which in the early ages was made use of as
a weight for gold and diamonds; and hence Mr Bruce
is of opinion that the name of the imaginary weight
carat is derived. 14. The walkuffa, grows in the hottest
parts of Ethiopia. It is a flowering tree, with beau¬
tiful white blossoms, which do not appear till towards
the middle of January. The flowers have no smell,
and are accounted pernicious to bees. The wood is
very heavy. 15. The wooginoos, or Brucca anti-
dysenterica, is common throughout the whole empire,
but principally on the sides of the valleys. It is a so¬
vereign remedy against the dysentery, a very common
and fatal disease in hot countries. Mr Bruce had expe¬
rimental proof of its antidysenteric virtue. 16. Cusso,
or Banksia anthelmintica, is a very beautiful and useful
tree, being a strong anthelmintic, and used as such by
the Abyssinians. Every person there, whether male or
female, is troubled with that kind of worm called asca-
rides; a great number of which are evacuated every
month, and the evacuation is promoted by an infusion
of this plant. While taking this medicine, the patients
sequestrate themselves from all their acquaintance, and
keep close at home. It is said that the want of this me¬
dicine in other countries is the reason why the Abyssi¬
nians do not go out of their own country ; or, if they
do, that they are short-lived. Teff, is a kind of grain
sown generally throughout Abyssinia ; and constitut¬
ing the bread commonly made use of by the inhabitants.
They have indeed plenty of wheat, and are as skilful
in forming it into bread as the Europeans ; but this is
only made use of by people of the first rank : however,
the teff is sometimes of such an excellent quality, that
the bread made from it is held in equal estimation with
the finest wheat. From the bread made of this grain,
a sourish liquor called bou’za is prepared, which is used
for common drink like our small beer. A liquor of
the same kind, but of inferior quality, is made from
barley cakes. Some have been of opinion, that the use
of teff' occasions the worms above mentioned ; but this
is controverted by Mr Bruce. Nook, a plant not to be.
distinguished from our marigold, either in shape, size,
or foliage, is also sown very generally over the country,
and furnishes all Abyssinia with oil for the kitchen ami
other uses.
Abyssinia abounds with a vast variety of quadrupeds.Quadra-
both wild and tame. Immense numbers of cattle every-peds.
where present themselves, some of them the most
beautiful in the world. Some have monstrous horns,
said to be capable of holding 10 quarts each ; but this,
as our author informs us, is a disease which proves fa¬
tal to them. Buffaloes are here met with in great
numbers, and are very fierce and untractable ; but
there are no such animals as carnivorous bulls, which
have been said to exist in this and other internal parts
of Africa. Antelopes and other wild animals are met
with in great numbers in the uncultivated parts; feed¬
ing chiefly on the leaves of trees. They abound most
of all, however, in those parts which have been once,
cultivated.
ABYSSINIA
104.
Abyssinia, cultivated, but since desolated by the calamities of war;
11 ' v “ 1 and where wild oats abound in such quantities as to
hide them from pursuit. Hyaenas, lions, foxes, jack¬
als, wild boars, &c. are also found, as well as the ele-
'phant, rhinoceros, camelopard, and others of the lar¬
ger and more uncommon kinds. Great havock is
made in the cultivated fields by multitudes of baboons,
apes, rats, and mice. There is plenty of hares ; but
these being reckoned unclean, as well as wild boars,
are not used as food. The rivers abound with croco¬
diles and hippopotami, at least the Nile, and those
large streams which flow into it; hut a great number
have water in them only during the rainy season, Hod
these have neither fish nor any animal that feeds upon
them.
Birds The number of birds in this country is immense ;
nor are those of the carnivorous kind at all deficient.
Great numbers of eagles, vultures, hawks, and others
of that kind are met with, and come punctually every
year after the tropical rains have ceased. They feed
at first upon the shell fish which are met with in great
quantities on the edges of the deserts, where they had
lived in the salt springs; but, being forced from their
natural habitations when these springs were swelled by
the rains, are afterwards left to perish on dry land.
When these fail, their next resource is from the car¬
cases of the large animals, such as the elephant and
rhinoceros, which are killed in the flat country by the
hunters. Their next supply is the multitude of rats
and field mice which infest the country after harvest.
The vast slaughter of cattle made by the Abyssinian
armies, the multitude of persons killed whose bodies
are allowed to rot on the field of battle, &c. furnish
them also with another resource. These supplies, how¬
ever, all fail at the beginning of the rainy season,
when the hunters and armies return home, and the vast
quantity of water which continually overflows the
ground renders it impossible for them to find any other
food.
There are other birds which feed upon insects, and
multitudes which live on grain or seeds of various
kinds ; all of which are amply supplied by the immense
quantity of fruits and berries which grow in Abyssinia,
and are ripe at all seasons of the year. A very re¬
markable particular concerning this is, that the trees
which bear fruit all the year round do not carry it al¬
ways in the same place. The west side is that which
blossoms first, and where of consequence the fruit first
comes to perfection ; the south side succeeds, and goes
through the same process : after which, the north blos¬
soms in like manner; and last of all is the east side,
which produces flowers and fruit towards the begin¬
ning of the rainy season. All the trees of Abyssinia
are ever green ; and their leaves are of a thick lea¬
thery consistence, and highly varnished, to enable them
to resist the violent rains which fall during a certain
season. The granivoious birds have likewise this ad¬
vantage, that the rains do not fall at the same time all
over the country. It is intersected by a chain of
mountains that divide the seasons also; so that they
have but a short way to fly in order to become birds
of passage, and supply themselves with such food as is
necessary for them beyond the mountains. All the
pigeons, of which there are many species, are birds
of passage, excepting one kind. The owls are ex¬
tremely large and beautiful, hut few in number. There Abjsfwk
is a great variety of swallows, several kinds of which —j
are unknown in Europe ; but, says our author, “ those
that are common in Europe appear in passage at the
very season when they take their flight from thence.
We saw the greatest part of them in the island of Ma-
suah, where they lighted and tarried two days, and
then proceeded with moon-light nights to the south¬
west.” The large birds which reside constantly among
-the mountains of Samen and Taranta have all their
feathers tubular, the hollow part being filled with a
kind of yellow dust which issues out in great abun¬
dance on hunting them. This was particularly obser¬
ved by Mr Bruce in a species of eagle, which he calls
the golden eagle; and the dust being viewed through a
microscope with a very strong magnifying power, ap¬
peared like fine feathers. The crows are spotted white
and black, almost in equal proportions. The raven has
his feathers intermixed with brown, the tip of hie
beak white, and a figure like a cup or chalice of white
feathers upon his head. Our author saw no sparrows,
magpies, nor bats ; neither are there many water-fowl,
especially of the web-footed kind : but there are vast
numbers of storks, which cover the plains in May, when
the rains become constant. There are no geese, ex¬
cepting one species called the golden goose or goose of
the Nile, which is common all over Airica ; but there
are snipes in ail the marshes.
Our author describes very few fishes ; though he p..
says that an account of these, and other marine pi'o-
ductions of the Bed sea, which he has painted and col¬
lected, would occupy many large volumes, and the en¬
graving cost a sum which he could not by any means
afford. Among others, he ment'oned the torpedo ‘awA the
hinny, which latter is good food, and grows to a large
size ; that from which he took the drawing was about
32 pounds weight. Its whole body is covered with
beautiful scales resembling silver spangles.
Locusts and a species of ants are extremely trouble¬
some and pernicious in Abyssinia, but the fly by the
natives called tsallsalya is most destructive to cattle.
Mr Bruce gives a particular description of a kind ofPewser-
lizard, and of the cerastes or horned serpent; but de-pents in A-
nies that serpents are numerous in Abyssinia, as almost b^,ss*I1*a•
all authors have supposed, and as we should be led na¬
turally to suspect. He vouches also for the power that
some persons have of enchanting serpents and scorpions,
which in some is natural, in others communicated ar¬
tificially by certain medicines. He prevailed upon
those who knew the secret to prepare him by these
means as they had done others; but, notwithstanding
this assistance, he acknowledges, that when it came to
the trial his heart always failed him.
The crown is hereditary in the line of Solomon, but Method of
it depends on the minister to choose the particular per- setllingtfee
son who is to enjoy it ; and as it is always his inelina- ®llt^essio*
tion to have the government in his own hands, he never
fails to choose an infant, who is seldom suffered to live
after he comes to the years of maturity. Thus per-The cause
petual wars and commotions take place, insomuch that of civil
the ravenous birds, as has been observed, find one great war8*
supply of food in the slaughters made by the Abyssinians
of one another. All authors indeed agree that the de- destrueiioa
vastations committed by the armies of this country are by their
excessive ; insomuch, that after a long encampment is armies.
removed,
A B Y S
Ajiyssinla. removed, notlilng is to be seen all around the place
-—where it was but bare earth. When an army marches
through the country, says Mr Bruce, “ an inconceiva¬
ble number of birds and beasts of prey, especially the
former, follow it from the first day of its march to its
return ; increasing always in proportion the more it ad¬
vances into the country. An army there leaves nothing
living behind, not even the vestige of a habitation ; but
fire and the sword reduce every thing to a wilderness and
solitude. The beasts and birds unmolested have the
country to themselves, and increase beyond all possible
conception. The slovenly manners of this savage people,
who, after a battle, bury neither friends nor enemies j
the quantity of beasts of burthen that die perpetually
under the load of baggage, and variety of mismanage¬
ment 5 the quantity of offal, and half-eaten carcases of
cows, goats, and sheep, which they consume in their
march for sustenance 5 fill furnish a stock of carrion suf¬
ficient to occasion contagious distempers, were there not
such a prodigious number of voracious attendants who
mmense consume them almost before putrefaction. There is no
1.u"lber ”f giving the reader any idea of their number, unless by
UC1 comparing them to the sand of the sea. W hile the army
hem. motion, they are a black canopy which extends
over it for leagues. When encamped, the ground is
discoloured with them beyond the sight of the eye ; and
all the trees are loaded with them.”
lethod of ^ie Pro<%*ous number of criminals executed for
Vinn off treason, whose bodies are cut in pieces and thrown
hyaenas a')0Ut the streets, invite the hyaenas to the capital, in
om the the same manner that the carrion of the camp invites
the birds of prey to follow it. The method of keeping
oft these voracious animals is certainly very curious.
“ An officer (says Mr Bruce) called Serach Massery,
with a long whip, begins cracking and making a noise
worse than 20 French postilions at the door of the pa¬
lace before the dawn of day. This chases away the
hyaenas and other wild beasts : this too is the signal for
the king’s rising, who sits in judgment every morning
fasting ; and after that, about eight o’clock, he goes to
breakfast.” 6
From these and other circumstances we should be
apt to imagine that the Abyssinians, instead of becom¬
ing more civilized, were daily improving in barbarity.
The king is anointed at his election with plain oil of
olives ; “ which (says Mr Bruce) being poured upon
the crown of his head, be rubs into bis long hair inde¬
cently enough with both bis bands, pretty much as
bis soldiers do with theirs when they get access to
plenty of butter.” In former times, however, matters
seem to have been conducted with more decency. So-
cinios, the greatest monarch that ever sat on the Abys¬
sinian throne, was crowned, after having gained a great
victory over the Galla, in a very different manner, and
with the ceremonies which we are told were in use
among the ancient kings of Tigre. At that time he
had with him an army of about 30,000 men ; and was
besides attended by all the great officers dressed in the
gayest manner, as well as by the ladies of the first qua¬
lity in the empire. The king himself, dressed in crim¬
son damask, with a great chain of gold about his neck,
his head bare, and mounted on a horse richly capari¬
soned, advanced at the head of his nobility, passed the
outer Court, and came to the paved way before the
church. Here he was met by a number of young girls,
Vol. I. Part I.
mg s pa
ice.
bthod of
pointing
id crown-
g the
Hr.
S I N I A. 105
daughters of the ambares or supreme judges, together Abyssinia,
with many noble virgins standing on the right and left v-—y——'
of the court. I wo of the noblest of these held in their
hands a crimson cord of silk, somewhat thicker than
common whip cord, stretched across from one company
to another, as if to shut up the road by which the king
was approaching the church. When this cord was
prepared and drawn tight about breast-high by the
girls, the king entered; advancing moderately quick,
and showing his skill in horsemanship as he went along.
Being stopped by the tension of the string, the damsels
asked, Who he was ? To this he answered, “ I am your
king, the king of Ethiopia.” But they replied, “ You
shall not pass 5 you are not our king.” He then retired
some paces, and again presented himself. The question
was again put, “ Who he was ?” To which he answered,
“ I am your king, the king of Israel.” But the same
reply was still given by the girls. The third time, on
being asked, “ Who he was ?” he answered, “ I am
your king, the king of Sion :” and drawing his sword,
he cut the cord asunder. The damsels then cried out,
It is a truth, you are our king j truly you are the
king of Sion.” On this they began to sing Hallelujah,
and were joined by the whole army and the rest of the
king’s attendants. Amidst these acclamations the king
advanced to the foot of the stair of the church, dis^
mounted, and sat down upon a stone ; which, in Mr
Bruce’s opinion, was plainly an altar of Anubis or the
Ilog-star. Alter the king, came a number of priests
in proper order. The king was first anointed, then
crowned, and accompanied half up the steps by the sing-
ing priests. He stopped at a hole made on purpose in
one of the steps, where he w'as fumigated with myrrh,
aloes, and cassia : after which divine service was cele¬
brated ; and he returned to the camp, where 14 days
were spent in feasting and rejoicing.
Ceremonies of this kind are now given over on ac¬
count of the expence. Our author was informed bv
Tecla Haimanout, that when he was obliged to retire
into Tigre from his enemies, Has Michael had some
thoughts of having him crowned in contempt of his ene¬
mies ; but by the most moderate calculations that could
be made, it would have cost 20,000 ounces of gold,
about 80,cool, sterling j on w’hich ail thoughts of it
were laid aside.
The Abyssinians compute time by the solar year. Mode of
.Thirty days constitute their month, to which they add computing
five days and a quarter, and thus they complete thetilHe'
year. The five days are added to the month of Au¬
gust, and to every fourth year they add a sixth day.
They begin their year with the 29th or 30th of Au¬
gust, i. e. the kalends of September ; the 29th of Au¬
gust being the first of their month Mascaram. The
common epoch which the Abyssinians use is from the
creation of the world, and they reckon 5500 years from
tne creation to the birth of Christ, rejecting the odd
eight years of the Greeks, who make this period 5508
years. They have also many other epochs, such as
from the council of Nice and Ephesus. In their eccle¬
siastical computations they make use of the golden num¬
ber and epact. I he first use of epacts amongst them
was not earlier, according to ScaJiger, than the time of
Lfioclesian ; but Mr Bruce observes, that this is con¬
trary to the positive evidence of Abyssinian history,
which says expressly, that the epact was invented by
Q Demetriu*
io6 A B Y S S I N I A.
Abyssinia. Demetrius of Alexandria. This Demetrius was the
12th patriarch of Alexandria, and elected about the
193th year of Christ, or in the reign of Severus, and
consequently long before the time of Dioclesiau. The
Abvssinians have another mode of computing time, that
is peculiar to themselves. They read the whole of the
evangelists, in order, every year, in their churches j
and when they speak of an event, they write or say, it
happened in the days of Matthew \ that is, in the first
quarter of the year, whilst they were reading the gospel
of St Matthew in their churches. They compute the
time of the day in a very arbitrary manner. The twi¬
light being very short, is selected for the beginning
of their day ; this they call Nagge, which comprehends
the duration of twilight. Meset expresses the moment
when the evening twilight begins. Mid-day is called
Kater, which signifies culmination. All the other parts
of time they describe, in conversation, by pointing at
the place in the heavens where the sun was, when the
event, which they are describing, happened. . _
With regard to the manners of the Abyssimans,
they are represented bv Mr Bruce as highly barbarous.
Their continual warfare inures them to blood from
their infancy •, so that even children would not have
the least scruple at killing one another, or grown up
persons, if they were able. Many shocking instances
of hardness of heart are related by our author in Tecla
Haimanout himself, though otherwise an accomplished
prince. Their cruelty displays itself abundantly in the
punishments inflicted upon criminals, one of which is
flaying alive, as has been already related of Woosheka.
Cutting in pieces with a sabre is another j and this is
performed, not by executioners, whose employment is
reckoned disgraceful as in this country, but by officers
and people of quality. So little is this thought °f
deed in Gondar, the capital of the empire, that Mr
Bruce happening to pass by an officer employed in this
work, who had three men to dispatch, the officer called
to him to stop till he had killed them all, as he wanted
to speak to him upon a matter of consequence. Ston¬
ing to death is a capital punishment likewise common
in this country j and usually inflicted on Roman Catho¬
lics if they happen to be found, or upon other heretics
in religion.
Manners of ft is not to be supposed that people who regaid the
the Abyssi- ]jves 0f one another so little, will show much com-
B5aIl,’ passion to the brute creation. In this respect, bow-
A B Y
Abyssinian. ABYSSINIAN, in Kvclesiasttcal History, is the
  v—' name Df a sect in the Christian church, established in
the empire of Abyssinia. The Abyssinians are a branch
of the Copts or Jacobites ; with whom they agree in
admitting but one nature in Jesus Christ, and rejecting
the council of Cbalcedon : whence they are also called
Eutychiam or Monophysites, and stand opposed to the
Melchites. They are only distinguished from the
Copts, and other sects of Jacobites, by some peculiar
national usages. The Abyssinian sect or chui ch is go¬
verned by a bishop or metropolitan styled Ahum, sent
them by the Coptic patriarch of Alexandria residing
at Cairo, who is the only person that ordains priests.
ever, the Abyssinians are cruel and savage beyond ail Abyssinia,
people on the face of the earth. There are many '—7V-—■>
instances of people eating raw fish or flesh, and we call
them barbarous that do so 5 but what name shall we
give to those who cut oft’ pieces of flesh from animals
while still living, and eat it not only raw but still qui¬
vering with life ! He informs us, that when at no great
distance from Axum, the capital of Tigre, he fell in
with three soldiers “ driving a cow. They halted at a
brook, threw down the beast, and one oi them cut a
pretty large coilop oi flesh from its buttock 5 after
which they drove the cow gently on as before.” In
another place lie tells us, that the flesh was taken v
from the upper part of the buttock j that the skin was
flapped over the wound, fastened with a skewer, and
a cataplasm of clay put over all. But it may be ask¬
ed, how could the animal travel after those muscles
were cut which are necessary to its motions ? In his
description of their feasts there is more consistency,
for there the animal is tied so that it cannot move : af¬
ter stripping off the skin, the flesh of the buttocks is
cut off in solid square pieces, without bones or much
effusion of blood \ and the prodigious noise the animal
makes is a signal for the company to sit down to table.
The flesh is then cut smaller, laid on pieces of bread,
powdered with pepper and salt, and eaten. All this
time the animal bleeds but little : but when the large
arteries are cut and it expires, the flesh becomes
tough *, and the wretches who have the rest to eat,
gnaw it from the bones like dogs !
The truth of Mr Bruce’s account of these horrible
barbarities, as well as of many other parts of his nar¬
rative, has been questioned. Later testimony proves,
that the practice of cutting flesh from living animals
for eating does exist in the country ; but it does not
seem to be common ; nor does it appear that public
feasts are conducted with such circumstances of mon¬
strous cruelty. In a few other particulars, later tra¬
vellers have qualified Mr Bruce’s statements. But
they at the same time bear testimony to the accuracy
of his description of the country and its inhabitants,
and to his knowledge of its history, and thus give ad¬
ditional authority to all that is important in his work.
Under the article Abyssinia, in the Supplement, an
account is given of the new information luinished by
Mr Salt’s two journeys, and of the controversy regard¬
ing Bruce’s accuracy.
A B Y
The next dignity is that of Komos, or Hegumenos, ^yssinia
who is a kind of arch presbyter. They have canons w-y—
also, and monks : the former of whom marry ; the
latter, at their admission, vow celibacy, but with a
reservation : these, it is said, make a promise aloud,
before their superior, to keep chastity j but add in a
low voice, as you keep it. The emperor has a kind of
supremacy m ecclesiastical matters. He alone takes
cognizance of all ecclesiastical causes, except some
smaller ones reserved to the judges j and confers all
benefices, except that of Abuna.
There are two classesof monks amongthe Abyssinians j
those of Debra Libanos, and those of St Lustathius.
The
A B Y [ 107 ] A C A
Vbygsinian. The latter are grossly ignorant. Their head is the su-
~ ymmi perior of the convent of Mahebar Selasse, in the north¬
west part of Abyssinia, near Kuara and the Shangalia,
towards Sennaar and the river Deader. The chief of
the former is the Itchegue, who is ordained in the fol¬
lowing manner. Two chief priests hold a white cloth
or veil, over his head, a third repeats a prayer, and
then they all lay their hands on his head, and join toge¬
ther in singing psalms. In turbulent times this Itchegue
has more extensive influence than even the Abuna.—
The monks do not live in convents, but in separate
houses round their church j and each cultivates for him¬
self a portion of the land which is assigned them as
their property.—The churches are built on eminences,
in the vicinity of running water, for the advantage of
purifications and ablutions, according to the Levitical
law, and are surrounded with rows of Virginia cedar.
They are circular buildings with conical summits and
thatched roofs, and encompassed on the outside with
pillars of cedar, to which the roof projecting eight
feet beyond the wall is fixed, and forms an agreeable
walk in the hot or rainy season. The internal parti¬
tion and arrangement of the church, is that prescribed
by the Mosaic law •, and many of the ceremonies and
observances in their mode of worship, are obviously
derived from the ceremonial rites of the Jewish reli¬
gion.
The Abyssinians have at different times expressed an
inclination to be reconciled to the see of Rome j but
rather out of interest of state than any other motive.
The emperor David, or the queen regent on his be¬
half, wrote a letter on this head to Pope Clement VII.
full of submission, and demanding a patriarch from
Rome to be instructed by : which being complied
with, he publicly abjured the doctrine of Eutychius
and Dioscorus in 1626, and allowed the supremacy of
the pope. Under the emperor Sultan Seghed all was
undone again the Romish missionaries settled there,
had their churches taken from them, and their new
converts banished or put to death. The congregation
de propaganda have made several:,attempts to revive
the mission, but to little purpose.—The doctrines and
ritual of this sectary form a strange compound of Ju¬
daism, Christianity, and superstition. They practise
circumcision 5 and are said to extend the practice to
the females as well as males : They observe both Sa¬
turday and Sunday as Sabbaths : they eat no meats
prohibited by the law of MoseS: women are obliged to
the legal purifications $ and brothers marry their bro¬
thers wives, &c. On the other hand, they celebrate
the epiphany with peculiar festivity, in memory of
Christ’s baptism; when they plunge and sport in ponds
and rivers ; which has occasioned some to affirm that
they were baptized anew every year. Among the
saints days is one consecrated to Pilate and his wife ;
because Pilate washed his hands before he pronounced
sentence on Christ, and his wife desired him to have
nothing to do with the blood of that just person. They
have four lents : the great one commences ten days
earlier than ours, and is observed with much severity,
many abstaining therein even from fish, because St
Paul says there is one kind of flesh of men, and an¬
other of fishes. They allow of divorce, which is easily
granted among them, and by the civil judge ; nor do
their civil laws prohibit polygamy itself. They have
at least as many miracles and legends of saints as the Abyssinian
Romish church ; which proved no small embarrassment [|
to the Jesuit missionaries, to whom they produced so Acacia,
many miracles, wrought by their saints, in proof ofv '
their religion, and those so well circumstantiated and
attested, that the Jesuits were obliged to deny miracles
to be any evidence of a true religion ; and in proof
hereof, to allege the same arguments against the Abvs-
sinians which Protestants in Europe allege against Pa¬
pists. They pray for the dead, and invoke saints and
angels; have so great a veneration for the virgin, that
they charged the Jesuits with not rendering her ho¬
nour enough. They venerate images in painting ;
but abhor all those in relievo, except the cross. They
hold that the soul of man is not created ; because, sav
they, God finished all his works on the sixth day.
They admit the apocryphal books, and the canons of
the apostles, as well as the apostolical constitutions, for
genuine. Their liturgy is given by Alvarez, and in
English by Pagit ; and their calendar by Ludolph.
ACA, Ace, or Acon, in Ancient Geography, a
town of Phoenicia, on the Mediterranean ; afterwards
called Ptolemais ; now Acre. See Acre.
ACACALOTL, the Brasilian name of a bird called
by some corvus aquations, or the water raven : proper¬
ly, the pelicanus carbo, or corvorant. See Ornitho¬
logy Index.
ACACIA, Egyptian Thorn, or Binding Bean-
tree, in Botany, a species of mimosa, according to
Linnaeus ; though other botanists make it a distinct ge¬
nus. See Mimosa, Botany Index.
The flowers of a species of the acacia are used by
the Chinese in making that yellow which we see bears
washing in their silks and stuffs, and appears with so
much elegance in their painting on paper. The me¬
thod is this :
They gather the flowers before they are fully open ;
these they put in a clean earthen vessel over a gentle
heat, and stir them continually about as they do the
tea leaves, till they become dryish and of a yellow co¬
lour ; then to half a pound of the flowers they add
three spoonfuls of fair water, and after that a little
more, till there is just enough to hold the flowers in¬
corporated together; they boil this for some time, and
the juice of the flowers mixing with the water, it be¬
comes thick and yellow ; they then take it from the
fire, and strain it through a piece of coarse silk. To
the liquor they add half an ounce of common alum, and
an ounce of calcined oyster shells reduced to a fine
powder. All is then well mixed together; and this is
the fine lasting yellow they have so long used.
The dyers of large pieces use the flowers and seeds
of the acacia for dyeing three different sorts of yellow.
They roast the flowers, as before observed ; and then
mix the seeds with them, which must be gathered
for this purpose-when full ripe : by different admixture
of these, they give the different shades of colour, only
for the deepest of all they add a small quantity of Bra¬
sil wood.
Mr Geoffrey attributes the origin of bezoar to the
seeds of this plant; which being browsed by certain ani¬
mals, and vellicating the stomach by their great sour¬
ness and astringency, cause a condensation of the
juices, till at length they become coated over with a
stony matter, which we call Bezoar.
O 2
False
A C A [ 10S ] A C A
Acacia False AcACIA. See RoBINlA, BoTANY Index.
|| Three-thorned Acacia, or Honey-locust. See Gle-
Acaciu?. ^ d1tsia, Botany Index.
v " Acacia, ia^ the Materia Medica, the inspissated
juice of the'unripe fruit of the Mimosa Hilo tic a.
The juice is brought to us from Egypt, in roundish
masses wrapt up in thin bladders. It is outwardly of
a deep brown colour, inclining to black ; inwardly of
a reddish or yellowish brown } of a firm consistence,
but not very dry. It soon softens in the mouth, and
discovers a rough, not disagreeable taste, which is fol¬
lowed by a sweetish relish. This inspissated juice en¬
tirely dissolves in watery liquors 3 but is scarce sensi¬
bly acted on by rectified spirit.
Acacia is a mild astringent medicine. The Egyp¬
tians give it in spitting of blood, in the quantity of a
drachm, dissolved in any convenient liquor 3 and repeat
this dose occasionally : they likewise employ it in col-
lyria for strengthening the eyes, and in gargarisms for
quinseys. Among us, it is little otherwise used than
as an ingredient in mithridate and theriaca, and is rare¬
ly met with in the shops. What is usually sold for
the Egyptian acacia, is the inspissated juice of unripe
sloes 3 this is harder, heavier, of a darker colour, and
somewhat sharper taste, than the true sort. See the
next article.
German Acacia, the juice of unripe sloes inspissated
nearly to dryness over a gentle fire, care being taken
to prevent its burning. It is moderately astringent,
similar to the Egyptian acacia, for which it has been
commonly substituted in the shops. It is given in
fluxes, and other disorders where styptic medicines are
indicated, from a scruple to a drachm.
Acacia, among antiquaries, something resembling a
roll or bag, seen on medals, as in the hands of several
consuls and emperors. Some take it to represent a
handkerchief rolled up, wherewith they made signals
at the games ; others a roll of petitions or memorials 3
and some, a purple bag full of earth, to remind them of
their mortality.
ACACIANS, in ecclesiastical history, the name of
several sects of heretics 3 some of which maintained,
that the Son was only a similar, not the same, substance
with the Father 3 and others, that he was not only a
distinct but a dissimilar substance. Two of these sects
had their denominations from Acacius bishop of Csesa-
rea, who lived in the fourth century, and changed his
opinions, so as, at different times, to be head of both.
Another was named from Acacius patriarch of Con¬
stantinople, wdio lived in the close of the fifth cen¬
tury.
ACACIUS, surnamed Luscus, because he was blind
of one eye, was bishop of Caesarea in Palestine, and suc¬
ceeded the famous Eusebius : he had a great share in
the banishment of Pope Liberius, and bringing Felix to
the see of Rome. He gave name to a sect, and died
about the yeaf'365. He wrote the life of Eusebius,
which is lost, and several other works.
Acacius, Saint, bishop of Amida in Mesopotamia,
in 420, was distinguished by his piety and charity. He
sold the plate belonging to his church, to redeem seven
thousand Persian slaves who were perishing with hunger.
He gave each of them some money and sent them home.
Veranius their king w’as so affected with this noble in¬
stance of benevolence, that he desired to see the bishop 3
and this interview procured a peace between that prince Acacias
and Theodosius I. II
There have been several other eminent persons of the^ca<temicg;
same name 3 particularly, a martyr under the emperor ^
Decius : a patriarch of Antioch, who succeeded Basil
in 458, and died in 459 : a bishop of Miletum in the
fifth century : a famous rhetorician in the reign of the
emperor Julian : and, a patriarch of Constantinople in
the fifth century 3 who was ambitious to draw the whole
power and authority of Rome by degrees to Constan¬
tinople, for which he was excommunicated by Pope
Felix II. He in his turn passed sentence of excom¬
munication against the pope. Still, however, he held
his patriarchate till his death in 488.
ACAD, or Achad, in Ancient Geography, the town
in which Nimrod reigned, calledyAr/j(«/by the Seventy 3
situated in Babylonia, to the eastward of the Tigris.
ACADEMICIAN, or Academist, a member of
an academy. See Academy in the modern sense.
ACADEMICS, or Academists, a denomination
given to the cultivators of a species of philosophy ori¬
ginally derived from Socrates, and afterwards illu¬
strated and enforced by Plato, who taught in a grove
near Athens, consecrated to the memory of Academus,
an Athenian hero 3 from which circumstance this phi¬
losophy received the name of Academical. Before the
days of Plato, philosophy had in a great measure fal¬
len into contempt. The contradictory systems and hy¬
potheses which had successively been urged upon the
world were become so numerous, that, from a view
of this inconstancy and uncertainty of human opinions,
many were led to conclude, that truth lay beyond the
reach of our comprehension. Absolute and universal
scepticism was the natural consequence of this conclu¬
sion. In order to remedy this abuse of philosophy
and of the human faculties, Plato laid hold of the
principles of the academical philosophy ; and, in his
Phsedo, reasons in the following manner: “ If we are
“ unable to discover truth (says he), it must be owing
“ to two circumstances : either there is no truth ia
“ the nature of things 3 or the mind, from a defect
“ in its pow’ers, is not able to apprehend it. Upon the
“ latter supposition, all the uncertainty and fluctuation
“ in the opinions and judgments of mankind admit of
“ an easy solution : Let us therefore be modest, and
“ ascribe our errors to the real weakness of our own
“ minds, and not to the nature of things themselves.
“ Truth is often difficult of access : in order to come
“ at it, we must proceed with caution and diffidence,
“ carefully examining every step 3 and, after all our
“ labour, we will frequently find our greatest efforts
“ disappointed, and be obliged to confess our ignore
“ ance and weakness.”
Labour and caution in their researches, in opposi¬
tion to rash and hasty decisions, were the distinguishing
characteristics of the disciples of the ancient academy.
A philosopher, possessed of these principles, will be
slow in his progress 3 but will seldom fall into errors,
or have occasion to alter his opinion after it is once
formed. Vanity and precipitance are the great sources
of scepticism : hurried on by these, instead of attending
to the cool and deliberate principles recommended by
the academy, several of our modern philosophers have
plunged themselves into an absurd and ridiculous kind
of scepticism. They pretend to discredit subjects that
are
A C A [ 109 ] A C A
ioaJtmics, are plain, simple, and easily compreliended ; but give
Academy, peremptory and decisive judgments upon things that
"V "1 1 evidently exceed the limits of our capacity. Of these,
Berkeley and Hume are the most considerable. Berke¬
ley denied the existence of every thing, excepting his
own ideas. Mr Hume has gone a step further, and
questioned even the existence of ideas ; but at the same
time has not hesitated to give determined opinions with
regard to eternity, providence, and a future state, mi¬
raculous interpositions of the Deity, &c. subjects far
above the reach of our faculties. In his essay on the
academical or sceptical philosophy, he has confounded
two very opposite species of philosophy. After the
days of Plato, indeed, the principles of the first aca¬
demy were grossly corrupted by Arcesilas, Carneades,
&c. This miffht lead Mr Hume into the notion that
the academical and sceptical philosophy were synony¬
mous terms. But no principles can be of a more op¬
posite nature than those which were inculcated by
the old academy of Socrates and Plato, and the scep¬
tical notions which were propagated by Arcesilas,
Carneades, and the other disciples of the succeeding
academies.
ACADEMY, in antiquity, a garden, villa, or grove,
situated within a mile of Athens, where Plato and his
followers held their philosophical conferences. It took
its name from one Academus, or Ecademus, who was
the original owner of it, and made it a kind of gymna¬
sium. He lived in the time of Theseus ; and, after his
death, it retained his name, and was consecrated to his
memory. Cimon embellished it with fountains, trees,
and walks j but Sylla, during the siege of Athens, em¬
ployed these very trees in making battering engines
against the city. Cicero too had his villa, or place of
retirement, near Puzzuoli, which he also named an aca¬
demy ^ where he composed his Academical Questions, and
his book De Natura Deorum.
Academy, among the moderns, is most commonly
used to signify a society of learned men, established for
the improvement of any art or science, and generally
under the protection of a prince. Ptolemy Soter, for
the encouragement and improvement of the liberal arts
in his dominions, founded an academy at Alexandria,
and provided it with a collection of books, which was the
foundation of the Alexandrian library.
Theodosius the younger established an academy at
Constantinople, and appointed professors of every sci¬
ence, with the view of making it a rival institution to
that at Rome 5 which, with the other literary semina¬
ries, had been destroyed by the Goths about the end
of the fourth and the beginning of the fifth cen¬
turies.
The first academy we read of was established by
Charlemagne, at the instigation of Alcuin. It was
composed of the chief wits of the court, the emperor
himself being a member. In their academical con¬
ferences, every person was to give an account of what
ancient authors he had read : and each even assumed
the name of some ancient author who pleased him most,
or some celebrated person of antiquity. Alcuin, from
whose letters we learn those particulars, took that of
Flaccus, the surname of Horace : a young lord, named
Augilbert, took that of Homer : Adelard, bishop of
Corbie, was called Augustine : Riculfe, bishop of
Mentz, was Dametas j and the king himself. David.
2
Tins shows the mistake of some modern writers, who Academy-
relate, that it was in conformity with the genius of the
learned men of those times, who were great admirers of
Roman names, that Alcuin took the name of Elaccus
Albinus.
Most nations have now their academies j but Italy
has the greatest number. Many flourishing academies
existed in France before the revolution. Most of them
were established by Louis XIV. We have but few in
Britain 5 and those of chiefest note go by a difi'erent
name, viz. Society.
In giving an account of the principal academies, it
seems most proper to arrange them according to their
subjects.
I. Medical Academies, as that of the Naturae Cu-
riosi in Germany; that founded at Palermo in 1645 ;
another at Venice in 1701, which meets weekly in a hall
near the grand hospital; another at Geneva in 1715,
in the house of M. le Clerc. The colleges of physici¬
ans at London and Edinburgh, are also, by some, ranked
in the number of academies.
The Academy of Naturee Curiosi, called also the
Leopoldine Academy, was founded in 1652 by Jo.
Laur. Bauschius, a physician ; who, in imitation of the
English, published an invitation to all physicians to
communicate their extraordinary cases; and, meeting
with success, was elected president. Their works were
at first published separately ; but in 1670 a new scheme
was laid for publishing a volume of observations every
year. The first volume appeared in 1684, under the
title of Epkemerides, and the work has been continued
with some interruptions and variations of the title, &c.
In 1687, the emperor Leopold took the society under
his protection, granting the members several privileges,
particularly that their presidents should be counts pa¬
latine of the holy Roman empire. This academy has
no fixed residence, or regular assemblies : instead of
these, there is a kind of bureau, or office, first establish¬
ed at Breslau, and afterwards removed to Nuremberg,
where letters, observations, &c. from correspondents
or members are taken in. The academy consists of a
president, two adjuncts or secretaries, and colleagues or
members without restriction. The colleagues, at their
admission, oblige themselves to two things ; first, to
chuse some subject out of the animal, vegetable, or mine¬
ral kingdom, for discussion, provided it had not been
treated of by any colleague before; the second, to ap¬
ply themselves to furnish materials for the Annual
Ephemerides. Each member to bear a symbol of the
academy ; viz. a gold ring ; whereon, instead of a
stone, is a book open, and, on the face thereof, an
eye ; on the other side, the motto of the academy, Nun-
quam otiosus.
II. ChirurgicaL Academies ; as that instituted some
years ago, by public authority, at Paris : the members
of which were not only to publish their own and cor¬
respondents observations and improvements; but to give
an account of all that is published on surgery, and to
compose a complete history of the art, by their extracts
from all the authors ancient and modern who have
wrote on it. A question in surgery was annually pro¬
posed by the academy, and a gold medal of 200 livres
value was given to the successful competitor.
Academy of Surgery at Vienna, was instituted some
years ago by the present emperor, under the direction
of -
A C A
Academier, of the celebrated Brambilla. In this there were at
'—-v——' first only two professors j and to their charge the in¬
struction of 130 young men was committed, 30 of
whom had formerly been surgeons in the army. But
of late the number both of the teachers and pupils has
been considerably increased. Gabrieli has been ap¬
pointed to teach pathology and practice } Boecking,
anatomy, physiology, and physics j Streit, medical and
pharmaceutical surgery j Hunczovvsky, surgical opera¬
tions, midwifery, aud the chirurgia forensisj and Plenk,
chemistry and botany. To these also has been added,
Beindel as prosector and extraordinary professor of
surgery and anatomy. Besides this, the emperor, with
his usual liberality, has provided a large and splendid
edifice in Vienna, which affords habitation both for the
teachers, the students, pregnant women, patients for
clinical lectures, and servants. He has also purchased
for the use of this academy a medical library, which is
open every day; a complete set of chirurgical instru¬
ments j an apparatus for experiments in natural philo¬
sophy •, a collection of natural history ; a number of
anatomical and pathological preparations $ a collection
of preparations in wax brought from Florence j and a
variety of other useful articles. Adjoining to the build¬
ing also there is a good botanical garden.
Among other parts of this institution, three prize
medals, each of the value of 40 florins, are to be an¬
nually bestowed on those students who return the best
answer to questions proposed the year before. These
prizes are not entirely founded by the emperor, but are
in part owing to the liberality of Brendellius, the proto-
chirurgus at Vienna.
III. Ecclesiastical Academies ; as that at Bologna
in Italy, instituted in 1687, employed in the examina¬
tion of the doctrine, discipline, and history, of each age
of the church.
IV. Cosmographical Academies ; as that at Venice,
called the Argonauts. This was instituted at the so¬
licitation of F. Coronelli, for the improvement of
geographical knowledge. Its design was to publish
exact maps, both celestial and terrestrial, as well par¬
ticular as general, together with geographical, histori¬
cal, and astronomical descriptions. Each member, in
order to defray the expence of such a publication, was
♦0 subscribe a proportional sum, for which they were
to receive one or more copies of each piece published.
For this end three societies are settled j one under F.
Moro, provincial of the Minorites in Hungary; an¬
other under the Abbot Eaurence au Buy Payenne au
Marais ; the third under F. Baldigiani, Jesuit profes¬
sor of mathematics in the Roman college. The device
of this academy is the terraqueous globe, with the mot¬
to Elus ultra ; and at its expence all the globes, maps,
and geographical writings of F. Coronelli have been
published.
\ . Academies of Sciences.—These comprehend such
as are erected for improving natural and mathematical
knowledge. Tb^y are otherwise called Philosophical
and Physical av a.Tmies.
The first of these was instituted at Naples, about the
year 1560, in the house of Baptista Porta. It was call¬
ed the Academy Secretorum Naturce ; and was succeed¬
ed by the Academy of Lijncei, founded at Rome by
Prince Frederic Cesi, towards the end of that century.
Several of the members of this academy rendered it fa-
A C A
mous by their discoveries 3 among these was the cele-Acatkinles
brated Galileo. Several other academies were institut- v‘“—-y'—j
ed about that time, which contributed greatly to the
advancement of the sciences j but none of them com¬
parable to that of the Lyncei.
Some years after the death of Torricelli, the Aca¬
demy del Cimento made its appearance, under the pro¬
tection of Prince Leopold, afterwards Cardinal de Me-
dicis. Redi was one of its chief members : and the stu¬
dies pursued by the rest may be collected from those cu¬
rious experiments published in 1667, their secretary
Count Laurence Magulotti, under the title of Saggi di
Naturali Esperienze; a copy of which was presented to
the Royal Society, translated into English by Mr Wal¬
ler, and published at London in 4to.
The Academy degPInquieti, afterwards incorporated
into that of Della Tracia in the same city, followed
the example of that of Del Cimento. Some excellent
discourses on physical and mathematical subjects, by
Geminiano Montenari, one of the chief members, were
published in 1667, under the title of Pensieri Fisico-
Matematici.
The Academy of Rossano, in the kingdom of Naples,
was originally an academy of belles lettres, founded
in 1540, and transformed into an academy of sciences
in 1695, at the solicitation of the learned abbot Don
Giacinto Gimma 3 who being made president, under
the title of Promoter General thereof, gave them a
new set of regulations. He divided the academists
into the following classes : Grammarians, Rhetoricians,
Poets, Historians, Philosophers, Physicians, Mathema¬
ticians, Lawyers, and Divines, with a class apart for
cardinals and persons of quality. To be admitted a
member, a man must have some degrees in the faculty.
The members are not allowed to take the title of Aca¬
demists in the beginning of their books, without a
written permission from their president, which is not
granted till the work has been examined by the censors
of the academy 3 and the permission is the greatest ho¬
nour the academy can confer, as they thereby adopt the
work, and are answerable for it against all criticisms
that may be made upon it. To this law the president
or promoter himself is subject 3 and no academist is al¬
lowed to publish any thing against the writings of an¬
other without leave from the society.
Several other academies of Sciences have been found¬
ed in Italy 3 but, for want of being supported by
princes, did not continue long. The loss of them,
however, was abundantly repaired by the institution of
others still subsisting: such as, the Academy ofFilarmo-
nici at Verona 3 of Ricovatri at Padua, where a learned
discourse on the origin of springs was delivered by Sig.
Vallisnieri, first professor of physic in the university of
that city, and which was afterwards printed. To the
Academy of the Muti de Reggio, at Modena, the same
Sig. Vallisnieri presented an excellent discourse on the
scale of created beings, since inserted in his history of
the generation of man and animals, printed at Venice
in the year 1721.
F. Marsenne is said to have given the first idea of a
philosophical academy in France, towards the begin¬
ning of the 17th century, by the conferences of natu¬
ralists and mathematicians occasionally held at his
lodgings; at which Gassendi, Des Cartes, Hobbes,
Roberval, Pascal, Blonde], and others assisted. F. Mer-
[ no ]
senne
A C A [ 11
cademies. scnsie proposed to each certain problems to examine, or
—v"“-~ certain experiments to be made. These private assem¬
blies were succeeded by more public ones, formed by
Mr Montmort, and Mr Thevenot the celebrated tra¬
veller. The French example animated several Eng¬
lishmen of distinction and learning to erect a kind of
philosophical academy at Oxford, towards the close of
Oliver Cromwell’s administration; which, after the
Restoration, was erected into a Royal Society. See
Society. The English example, in its turn, anima¬
ted the French. Louis XIV. in 1666, assisted by the
counsels of M. Colbert, founded an academy of sciences
at Paris, with a sufficient revenue to defray the charge
of experiments, and salaries to the members.
Royal Society of Sciences. After the peace of the
Pyrenees, Louis XIV. being desirous of establishing
the arts, sciences, and literature, upon a solid founda¬
tion, directed M. Colbert to form a society of men of
known abilities and experience in the different branch¬
es, who should meet together under the king’s protec¬
tion, and communicate their respective discoveries.
Accordingly M. Colbert, having conferred with those
who were at that time most celebrated for their learn¬
ing, resolved to form a society of such persons as were
conversant in natural philosophy and mathematics, to
join to them other persons skilled in history and other
branches of erudition, along with those who were en¬
tirely engaged in what are called the Belles Lettres,
grammar, eloquence, and poetry. The geometricians
and natural philosophers were ordered to meet on Tues¬
days and Saturdays, in a great hall of the king’s li¬
brary, where the books of mathematics and natural
philosophy were contained ; the learned in history to
assemble on Mondays and Thursdays, in the hall where
the books of history were contained ; and the class of
belles lettres to assemble on Wednesdays and Fridays.
All the different classes were likewise ordered to meet
together upon the first Thursday of every month 5 and,
by their respective secretaries*, make a report of the
proceedings of the foregoing month.
In a short time, however, the classes of history,
belles lettres, &c. were united to the French Acade¬
my, which was originally instituted for the improve¬
ment and refining the French language: so that the
Royal Academy contained only two classes, viz. that
of natural philosophy and mathematics.
In the 1696, the king, by proclamation dated the
26th of January, gave this academy a new form, and
put it upon a more respectable footing. It was now
to be composed of four kinds of members, viz. hono¬
rary, pensionary, associates and eleves. These last were
a kind of pupils, or scholars, one of whom was attach¬
ed to each of the pensionaries. The first class to con¬
tain ten persons, and each of the rest twenty. The
honorary academists to be all inhabitants of France j
the pensionaries all to reside at Paris : eight of the as¬
sociates allowed to be foreigners; and the eleves all to
live at Paris. The officers to he, a president named
by the king, out of tlie class of honorary academists ;
and a secretary and treasurer to he perpetual. Of the
pensionaries, three to be geometricians, three astrono¬
mers, three mechanics, three anatomists, three che¬
mists, three botanists, and the remaining two to be se¬
cretary and treasurer. Of the twelve associates, two
to apply themselves to geometry, two to botany, and
1 ] A C A
two to chemistry. The eleves to apply themselves to Academies,
the same kind of science with the pensionaries they ^ y- .»
were attached to; and not to speak, except when call¬
ed by tne president. No regular or religious to be
admitted, except into the class ot honorary academists j
nor any person to be admitted either for associate or
pensionary, unless known by Some considerable printed
work, some machine, or other discovery. The assem¬
blies were held on Wednesdays and Saturdays, unless
either of them happened to be a holiday, and then the
assembly was held on the preceding day. To encou¬
rage the members to pursue their labours, the king en¬
gaged not only to pay the ordinary pensions, but even
to give extraordinary gratifications according to the
merit ol their respective performances ; furnishing with¬
al the expence of the experiments and other inquiries
necessary to be made. If any member gave in a bill
of charges of experiments he had made, or desired the
printing of any book, and brought in the charges of
graving, the money was immediately paid by the king,
upon the president’s allowing and signing the bill. So
it an anatomist required live tortoises, for instance, for
making experiments about the heart, &c. as many as
he pleased were brought him at the king’s charge.
Their motto ivas Invenit et perfccit.
In the year 1716, the duke of Orleans, than regent,
made an alteration in their constitution ; augmentins;
the number of honoraries, and of associate* capable of
being foreigners, to 12; admitting regulars among
such associates ; and suppressing the class of eleves, as
it appeared to be attended with seme inconveniences,
particularly that of making too great an inequality
among the academists, and being productive of some
misunderstandings and animosities among the members.
At the same time he created other two classes j one
consisting of 12 adjuncts, who, as well as the associates,
were allowed a deliberative voice in matters relative
to science j and the other six free associates, who were
not attached to any particular science, nor obliged to
pursue any particular work.
Since its re-establishment in 1669, this academy has
been very exact in publishing, every year, a volume
containing either the works of its own members, or
such memoirs as have been composed and read to the
academy during the course of that year. To each vo¬
lume is prefixed the history of the academy, or an ex¬
tract of the memoirs, and, in general, of whatever has
been read or said in the academy ; at the end of the
history, are the euloginms upon such academists as have
died that year. M. Rouille de Meslay, counsellor to
the parliament of Paris, founded two prizes, one of
2500, and the other of 2000 livres, which were alter¬
nately distributed by the parliament every year: the
subject for the first must relate to physical astronomy,
and those for the latter to navigation and commerce.
Notwithstanding the advantages which the members
of this academy enjoyed over others, in having their
expences defrayed, and even being paid for their time
and attendance, they had fallen under some imputa¬
tions, particularly that of plagiarism, or borrowing
their neighbours inventions ; but with what justice we
do not say. This academy was suppressed and abolish¬
ed by the convention in 1793 j and other institutions
have been established. See Institute.
The French had also considerable academies in most
ot
A C A [ i
Academies, of their great cities : as, at Montpelier a royal aca-
't v- < demy of sciences on the like tooting as that ot Paris,
being as it were a counterpart thereof*, at Thoulouse,
an academy under the denomination of Lanternists $
others at Nismes, Arles, Lyons, Dijon, Bourdeaux,
&c.
The Royal Academy of Sciences atRerlin was founded
in 1700, by Frederic II. king of Prussia, on the model
of that of England; excepting that, besides natural
knowledge, it likewise comprehends the belles lettres.
In 1710, it was ordained that the president shall be one
of the counsellors of state, and nominated by the king.
The members were divided into four classes; the first
for prosecuting physics, medicine, and chemistry; the
second for mathematics, astronomy, and mechanics ;
the third for the German language and the history of
the country 5 the fourth for oriental learning, particu¬
larly as it may concern the propagation of the Gospel
among infidels. Each class to elect a director for
themselves, who shall hold his post for life. The mem¬
bers of any of the classes have free admission into the
assemblies of any of the rest.
The great promoter of this institution was the cele¬
brated Mr Leibnitz, who accordingly was made the
first director. The first volume of their transactions
was published in 1710, under the title of Miscellanea
Rerolinensia ; and though they received hut few marks
of the royal favour for some time, they continued to
publish new volumes in 1723, 1727, 1734, and I740,
At last, however, Frederic III. the late king of Prus¬
sia, gave new vigour to this academy, by inviting to
Berlin such foreigners as were most distinguished for
their merit in literature, and encouraged his subjects to
prosecute the study and cultivation of the sciences by
giving ample rewards ; and thinking that the academy,
which till that time had had some minister or opulent
nobleman for its president, would find an advantage in
having a man of letters at its head, he conferred that
honour on M. Maupeftuis. At the same time he gave
a new regulation to the academy, and took upon him¬
self the title of its protector.
The academists hold two public assemblies annually ;
one in January, on the late king’s birth day j and the
other in May, on the day of his accession to the throne.
At the latter of these is given, as a prize, a gold me¬
dal ol 50 ducats value : the subject for this prize is suc¬
cessively natural philosophy, mathematics, metaphysics,
and erudition.
The Imperial Academy of Sciences at R ctershurgh was
projected by Czar Peter the Great. That great mo¬
narch having, during his travels, observed the advan¬
tage of public societies for the encouragement and pro¬
motion of literature, formed the design of foun ding an
academy of sciences at St Petersburgh. By the advice
of olf and Leibnitz, whom he consulted on this oc¬
casion, the society was regulated, and several learned
foreigners were invited to become members. Peter
himself drew the plan, and signed it on the 10th of
February I724 5 l,ut; was prevented, by the suddenness
of his death, from carrying it into execution. His de¬
cease, however, did not prevent its completion : for on
the 21st of December 1725, Catharine I. established
it according to Peter’s plan; and on the 27th of the
same month the society was first assembled. On the
1st of August 1726, Catharine honoured the meeting
2 ] AC A
with her presence, when Professor Bulfinger, a German Academics
naturalist of great eminence, pronounced an oration 1——y——>
upon the advances made by the loadstone and needle
for the discovery of the longitude.
The empress settled a fund of 4982I. per annum for
the support of the academy ; and fifteen members all.
eminent for their learning and talents, were admitted
and pensioned, under the title of Professors in the va¬
rious branches of literature and science. The most di¬
stinguished of thesse professors were Nicholas and
Daniel Bernoulli, the two De Lisles, Bulfinger, and
Wolf.
During the short reign of Peter II. the salaries of
the members were discontinued, and the academy was
utterly neglected by the court ; but it was again pa¬
tronised by the empress Anne, who even added a se¬
minary for the education of youth, under the superin¬
tendence of the professors. Both institutions flourished
for some time under the direction of Baron Korf; but
upon his death, towards the latter end of Anne’s reign,
an ignorant person being appointed president, many of
the most able members quitted Russia. At the acces¬
sion of Elizabeth, new life and vigour were again re¬
stored to the academy : the original plan was enlarged
and improved ; some of the most learned foreigners
were again drawn to Petersburgh ; and, what was con¬
sidered as a good omen for the literature ofRussia, two
natives, Lomonosof and Rumovsky, men of genius and
abilities, who had prosecuted their studies in foreign
universities, were enrolled among its members. The
annual income was increased to 10,659!. and soon af¬
terwards the new institution took place.
The late empress Catharine II. with her usual zeal
for promoting the diffusion of knowledge, took this
useful society under her more immediate protection.
She altered the court of directors greatly to the ad¬
vantage of the whole body ; corrected many of its
abuses, and infused a new vigour and spirit into their
researches. By her majesty’s particular recommen¬
dation the most ingenious professors visited the va¬
rious provinces of her vast dominions ; and as the fund
of the academy was not sufficient to supply the whole
expence of these several expeditions, the empress be¬
stowed a largess of 2000I. which she renewed as oc¬
casion required. '
The purpose and intent of these travels will appear
from the instructions given by the academy to the se¬
veral persons who were engaged in them. They were
ordered to pursue their inquiries upon the different
sorts of earths and waters; upon the best methods of
cultivating the barren and desert spots ; upon the local
disorders incident to men and animals, and the most
efficacious means of relieving them ; upon the breeding
of cattle, and particularly of sheep ; on the rearing
of bees and silk worms; on the different places and ob¬
jects for fishing and hunting ; on minerals ; on the arts
and trades, and on forming a Flora Russica. or collec¬
tion of indigenous plants ; they were particularly in¬
structed to rectify the longitude and latitude of the prin¬
cipal towns ; to make astronomical, geographical, and
meteorological observations; to trace the course of the
rivers ; to take the most exact charts ; and to be very-
distinct and accurate in remarking and describing the
manners and customs of the different people, their
dresses, languages, antiquities, traditions, histr;y, reli¬
gion 5
A G A [ i
jatkmies.gion ; and, in a word, to gain every information which
—v——' might tend to illustrate the real state of the whole Rus¬
sian empire.
In consequence of these expeditions, perhaps no
country can boast, within the space of so few years,
such a number of excellent publications on its internal
state, on its natural productions, on its topography,
geography, and history, on the manners, customs, and
languages of the difi’erent people, as have issued from
the press of this academy.
The first transactions of this society were published
in 1728, and entitled Commentarii Academice Scienti-
arum Imperialis Petropolitance ad ann. 1726, with a
dedication to Peter II. The publication was conti¬
nued under this form until the year 1747, when its
transactions were called Novi Commentarii Academics,
&c. In 1777 the academy again changed the title in¬
to Acta Academice Scientiarum Imperialist Petropolitance,
and likewise made some alteration in the arrange¬
ment and plan of the work. The papers, which had
been hitherto published in the Latin tongue, are now
written either in that language or French j and a pre-
face is added, styled Partie Historique, which contains
an account of its proceedings, meetings, admission
of new members, and other remarkable occurrences.
Of the Commentaries, 14 volumes were published:
the first of the New Commentaries made its appear¬
ance in 1750, and the twentieth in 1776. Under
the new title of Acta Academice, several volumes have
been given to the public, and two are printed every
year. These transactions abound with ingenious and
elaborate disquisitions upon various parts of science
and natural history, and which reflect the greatest ho¬
nour upon their authors ; and it may not be an exag¬
geration to assert, that no society in Europe has more
distinguished itself for the excellence of its publications,
and particularly in the more abstruse parts of the pure
and mixed mathematics.
The academy is still composed, as at first, of fifteen
professors, besides the president and director. Each of
these professors has a house and an annual stipend from
200I. to 600I. Beside the professors, there are four
adjuncts, who are pensioned, and who are present at
the sittings of the society, and succeed to the first va¬
cancies. The direction of the academy is at present
consigned to the princess Dashkof.
The building and apparatus of this academy are ex¬
traordinary. There is a fine library, consisting of 36,000
curious books and manuscripts. 'There is an extensive
museum, in which the various branches of natural his¬
tory, &c. are distributed in different apartments : it is
extremely rich in native productions, having been con¬
siderably augmented with a variety of specimens col¬
lected by Pallas, Gmelin, Guldenstaedt, and other
learned professors, during their late expeditions through
the Russian empire. The stuffed animals and birds oc¬
cupy one apartment. The chamber of rarities, the ca¬
binet of coins, &c. contain innumerable articles of the
highest curiosity and value. The society has this mo¬
dest motto, Paulatim.
The Academy of Sciences at Bologna, called the Insti¬
tute of Bologna, was founded by Count Marsigli in 1712,
for the cultivating of physics, mathematics, medicine,
chemistry, and natural history. Its history is written by
Yot. I. Part I.
13 ] A C A
M. de Limiers, from memoirs furnished by the founder Academies,
himself. I——y—~-
The Academy of Sciences at Stockholm, or Royal Swe¬
dish Academy, owes its institution to six persons of di¬
stinguished learning, amongst whom was the celebrated
Linnaeus: they originally met on the 2d of June 1739;
formed a private society, in which some dissertations
were read 5 and in the latter end of the same year their
first publication made its appearance. As the meet¬
ings continued and the members increased, the society
attracted the notice of the king, and was, on the 31st
of March 1741, incorporated under the name of the
Royal Swedish Academy. Not receiving any pension
from the crown, it is only under the protection of the
king, being directed, like our Royal Society, by its
own members. It has now a large fund, which has
chiefly arisen from legacies and other donations j but
a professor of experimental philosophy, and two secre ¬
taries, are still the only persons who receive any sala¬
ries. Each of the members resident at Stockholm be¬
comes president by rotation, and continues in office
during three months. There are two species of mem¬
bers, native and foreign: the election of the former is
held in April, and of the latter in July : no money is
paid at the time of admission. The dissertations read
at each meeting are collected and published four times
in the year ; they are written in the Swedish language,
and printed in octavo j and the annual publications
make a volume. The first 40 volumes, which were
finished in 1779, are called the Old Transactions j for
in the following year the title was changed into that
of New Transactions. The king is sometimes present
at the ordinary meetings, and particularly at the annual
assembly in April for the election of members. Any
person who sends a treatise which is thought worthy of
being printed, receives the Transactions for that quarter
gratis, and a silver medal, which is not esteemed for
its value, being worth only three shillings, but for its
rarity and the honour conveyed by it. All the papers
relating to agriculture are published separately under
the title of Oeconomica Acta. Annual premiums, in
money and gold medals, principally for the encourage¬
ment of agriculture and inland trade, are also distribut¬
ed by the academy. The fund for these prizes is sup¬
plied from private donations.
The Royal Academy of Sciences at Copenhagen owes
its institution to the zeal of six literati, whom Chri¬
stian VI. in 1742, ordered to arrange his cabinet of
medals. The count of Holstein was the first presi¬
dent; and the six persons who first formed the design,
were John Gram, Joachim Frederic Ramus, Christian
Louis Scheid, Mark Woldickey, Eric Pontopidan, and
Bernard Moelman. These persons occasionally meet¬
ing for that purpose, extended their designs ; associated
with them others who were eminent in several branches
of science ; and forming a kind of literary society, em¬
ployed themselves in searching into and explaining
the history and antiquities of their country. The
count of Holstein warmly patronised this society, and
recommended it so strongly to Christian VI. that, in
1743, his Danish majesty took it under his protection,
called it the Royal Academy of Sciences, endowed it
with a fund, and ordered the members to join to their
former pursuits, natural history, physics, and mathe-
P matics.
f
A C A
Axa-lemies matics. In consequence of the royal favour, the mem-
^hers engaged with fresh zeal in their pursuits; and the
academy has published 15 volumes in the Danish
language, some of which have been translated into
Xratin.
The American Academy of Sciences was established
in 1780, by the council and house of representatives
in the province of Massachuset’s Bay, for promoting
the knowledge of the antiquities of America, and of
the natural history of the country j for determining
the uses to which its various natural productions might
be applied} for encouraging medicinal discoveries,
mathematical disquisitions, philosophical inquiries and
experiments, astronomical, meteorological, and geo¬
graphical observations, and improvements in agricul¬
ture, manufactures, and commerce ; and, in short, for
cultivating every art and science which may tend to
advance the interest, honour, dignity, and happiness of
a free, independent, and virtuous people. The mem¬
bers of this academy are never to be more than 200,
nor less than 40.
Royal Irish Academy arose out of a society establish¬
ed at Dublin, about the year 1782, and consisting of
a number of gentlemen, most of whom belonged to
the university. They held weekly meetings, and al¬
ternately read essays on various subjects. The mem¬
bers of this society afterwards formed a more exten¬
sive plan, and admitting only such names as might add
dignity to their new institution, became the founders
of the Royal Irish Academy, which professes to unite
the advancement of science with the history of man¬
kind and polite literature. The first volume of their
transactions for 1787 appeared in 1788, and seven
volumes have been since published. A society was
formed in Dublin, similar to the Royal Society in Lon¬
don, as early as the year 1683 5 but the distracted state
of the country was unpropitious to the cultivation of
^philosophy and literature. The plan was resumed about
the beginning of the present century, and the earl of
Pembroke, then lord lieutenant, was president of a phi¬
losophical society established in Dublin college. In
the year 1740, there was instituted a Physico-historical
Society j of which two volumes of minutes are extant:
but this society soon declined.
VI. Academies or Schools of Arts ; as that at Peters-
burgh, which was established by the empress Elizabeth,
at the suggestion of Count Shuvalof, and annexed to the
Academy of Sciences : the fund was 4000I. per annum,
and the foundation for 40 scholars. The late em¬
press formed it into a separate institution, enlarged
the annual revenue to I2,oool. and augmented the
number of scholars to 300 j she also constructed, for
the use and accommodation of the members, a large
circular building, which fronts the Neva. The scho¬
lars are admitted at the age of six, and continue until
they have attained that of 18 : they are clothed, fed,
and lodged, at the expence of the crown. They are
all instructed in reading and writing, arithmetic, the
Trench and German languages, and drawing. At the
age of 14 they are at liberty to choose any of the fol¬
lowing arts, divided into four classes: 1. Painting in
all its branches, of history, portraits, battles, and land¬
scapes j architecture 5 mosaic; enamelling, &c. 2. En¬
graving on copperplates, seal-cutting, &c. 3. Carving
on wood, ivory, and amber. 4. Watch-making, turn-
A C A
ing, instrument-making, casting statues in bronze and Academic
other metals, imitating gems and medals in paste and y—.
other compositions, gilding, and varnishing. Prizes
are annually distributed to those who excel in any par¬
ticular art; and from those who have obtained four
prizes, twelve are selected, who are sent abroad at the
charge of the empress. A certain sum is paid to de¬
fray their travelling expences ; and when they are set¬
tled in any town, they receive an annual salary of 60I.
which is continued during four years. There is a small
assortment of paintings for the use of the scholars ;
and those who have made great progress are permitted
to copy the pictures in the empress’s collection. For
the purpose of design, there are models in plaster of
the best antique statues in Italy, all done at Rome, of
the same size with the originals, which the artists of
the academy were employed to cast in bronze.
The Royal Academy of Arts in London, was in¬
stituted for the encouragement of Designing, Painting,
Sculpture, &c. &c. in the year 1768. This academy
is under the immediate patronage of the king, and un¬
der the direction of 40 artists of the first rank in their
several professions. It furnishes, in winter, living mo¬
dels of different characters to draw after ; and in sum¬
mer, models of the same kind to paint after. Nine of
the ablest academicians are annually elected out of the
40, whose business is to attend by rotation, to set the
figures, to examine the performance of the students,
and to give them necessary instructions. There are
likewise four professors, of Painting, of Architecture, of
Anatomy, and of Perspective, who annually read public
lectures on the subjects of their several departments ;
beside a president, a council, and other officers. The
admission to this academy is free to all students pro¬
perly qualified to reap advantage from the studies cul¬
tivated in it; and there is an annual exhibition of paint¬
ings, sculptures, and designs, open to all artists of di¬
stinguished merit.
The Academy of Painting and Sculpture at Paris*
This took its rise from the disputes that happened be¬
tween the master painters and sculptors in that capi¬
tal ; in consequence of which, M. le Brun, Sarazin,
Corneille, and others of the king’s painters, formed a
design of instituting a particular academy ; and, having
presented a petition to the king, obtained an arret
dated January 20. 1648. In the beginning of 1655,
they obtained from Cardinal Mazarine a brevet, and
letters patent, which were registered in parliament ;
in gratitude for which favour, they chose the cardinal
for their protector, and the chancellor for their vice-
protector. In 1663, by means of M. Colbert, they
obtained a pension of 4000 livres. The academy con¬
sisted of a protector ; a vice protector ; a director ; a
chancellor; four rectors ; adjuncts to the rectors ; a
treasurer ; four professors, one of which was professor
of anatomy, and another of geometry ; several adjuncts
and counsellors, a historiographer, a secretary, and two
ushers.
The Academy of Painting held a public assembly
every day for two hours in the afternoon, to which the
painters resorted either to design or to paint, and where
the sculptors modelled after a naked person. There were
12 professors, each of whom kept the school for a month:
and there were 12 adjuncts to supply them in case of
need. The professor upon duty placed the naked man
as
[ 114 ]
A C A [i
eadcmies. as he thought proper, and set him in two different atti-
—' tudes every week. This was what they called setting
the model. In one week of the month he set two mo¬
dels together, which was called setting the group. The
paintings, and models made after this model, were call¬
ed academies, or academy figures. They had likewise
a woman who stood for a model in the public school.
Every three months, three prizes for design were distri-
ijuted among the eleves or disciples ; two others for
painting, and two for sculpture, every year.
There was also an Academy of Painting, Sculpture,
&c. at Rome, established by Lewis XIV. wherein those
who had gained the annual prize at Paris were entitled
to be three years entertained at the king’s expence, for
their further improvement.
Musical Academy, consists of the managers and di¬
rectors of the opera.
The Academy of Ancient Music was established in
London in 1710, by several persons of distinction, and
other gentlemen, in conjunction with the most eminent
masters of the time, with a view to the study and prac¬
tice of vocal and instrumental harmony. This institu¬
tion, which had the advantage of a library, consisting
of the most celebrated compositions both foreign and
domestic, in manuscript and in print, and which was
aided by the performances of the gentlemen of the
chapel royal, and the choir of St Paul’s, with the boys
belonging to each, continued to flourish for many years.
In 1731, a charge of plagiarism brought against Bo-
noncini, a member of the academy, for claiming a
madrigal of Lotti of Venice as his own, threatened
the existence of the institution. Dr Greene, who had
introduced the madrigal into the academy, took part
with Bononcini, and withdrew from the society, taking
with him the boys of St Paul’s. In 1734 Mr Gates,
another member of the society, and master of the
children of the royal chapel, retired in disgust j and
it was thus deprived of the assistance which the boys
afforded it in singing the soprano parts. From this
time the academy became a seminary for the instruc¬
tion of youth in the principles of music, and the laws of
harmony. Dr Pepusch, who was one of its founders,
was active in accomplishing this measure ; and by the
expedients of educating boys for their purpose, and
admitting auditor members, the subsistence of the aca¬
demy was continued. The Royal Academy of Music
was formed by the principal nobility and gentry of the
kingdom for the performance ef operas, composed by
Mr Handel, and conducted by him at the theatre in the
Haymarket. The subscription amounted to 50,000!.
and the king, besides subscribing 1000I. allowed the
society to assume the title of Royal Academy. It con¬
sisted of a governor, deputy governor, and twenty di¬
rectors. A contest between Handel and Senesino, one
of the performers, in which the directors took the part
of the latter, occasioned the dissolution of the academy,
after it had subsisted with reputation for more than
nine years.
The Academy of Architecture, established by M.
Colbert in 1671, consisted of a company of skilful ar¬
chitects, under the direction of the superintendant of
the buildings.
The Academy of Dancing, erected by Lewis XIV.
with privileges above all the rest.
IS ] A C A
VII. Academies of Law ; as that famous one at Be-
ryta, and that of the Sitientes at Bologna.
VHI. Academies of History; as the Royal Academy
of Portuguese History at Lisbon. This academy was
instituted by King John V. in 1720. It consists of a
director, four censors, a secretary, and 50 members ;
to each of whom is assigned some part of the ecclesias¬
tical or civil history of the nation, which he is to treat
either in Latin or Portuguese. In the church-history
of each diocese, the prelates, synods, councils, churches,
monasteries, academies, persons illustrious for sanctity
or learning, places famous for miracles or relics, must
be distinctly related in twelve chapters. The civil hi¬
story comprises the transactions of the kingdom from
the government of the Romans down to the present
time. The members who reside in the country are
obliged to make collections and extracts out of all the
registers, &c. where they live. Their meetings to be
once in fifteen days.
A medal was struck by this academy in honour of
their prince: the front of which was his effigy, with
the inscription Johannes V. Lusitanorum Rex ; and,
on the reverse, the same prince is represented stand¬
ing, and raising History almost prostrate before him,
with the legend, Historia Resurges. Underneath are
the following words in abbreviature : REGia ACADe-
mia HISTorise LUSITanse, INSTITuta VI. Idus
Decembris MDCCXX.
Academy of Suabian History at Tubingen was lately
established by some learned men, for publishing the best
historical writings, the lives of the chief historians, and
compiling new memoirs on the several points and pe¬
riods thereof.
IX. Academies of A ntiqvities ; as that at Corto¬
na in Italy, and at Upsal in Sweden. The first is
designed for the study of Hetrurian antiquities ; the
other for illustrating the northern languages, and the
antiquities of Sweden, in which notable discoveries
have been made by it. The head ef the Hetrurian
academy is called Lucomon, by which the ancient go¬
vernors of the country were distinguished. One of their
laws is to give audience to poets only one day in the
year ; another is to fix their sessions, and impose a tax
of a dissertation on each member in his turn.
The Academy of Medals and Inscriptions at Paris
was set on foot by M. Colbert, under the patronage of
Lewis XIV. in 1663, for the study and explanation
of ancient monuments, and perpetuating great and
memorable events, especially those of the French mo¬
narchy, by coins, relievos, inscriptions, &c. The
number of members at first was confined to four or
five, chosen out of those of the French academy;
who met in the library of M. Colbert, from whom
they received his majesty’s orders. The days of their
meetings were not determined j but generally they
met on Wednesdays, especially in the winter season;
but, in 1691, the king having given the inspection of
this academy to M. de Pontchartrain comptroller ge¬
neral, &c. he fixed their meetings on Tuesdays and
Saturdays.
By a new regulation, dated the 16th of July 1701
the academy was composed of ten honorary members ;
ten associates; each of whom had two declarative voices,
ten pensionaries ; and ten eleves, or pupils. They then
P 2 met
A C A [it
Academics, met every Tuesday and Wednesday, in one of the halls
of the Louvre j and had two public meetings yearly,
one the day after Martinmas, and the other the 16th
after Easter. The class of eleves was suppressed, and
united to the associates. The king nominated their
president and vice-president yearly j but their secretary
and treasurer were perpetual. The rest were chosen by
the members themselves, agreeably to the constitutions
on that behalf given them.
One of the first undertakings of this academy, was
to compose, by means of medals, a connected history
of the principal events of Louis XIV’s reign : but in
this design they met with great difficulties, and of con¬
sequence it was interrupted for many years j but at
length it was completed down to the advancement of
the duke of Anjou to the crown of Spain.
In this celebrated work, the establishment of the
academy itself was not forgotten. The medal on this
subject represents Mercury sitting, and writing with
an antique stylus on a table of brass j he leans with his
left hand on an urn full of medals, and at his feet
are several others placed upon a card : the legend, Re-
rum irestarumJides; and on the exergue, Academia regia
imcriptionum et numismatum, instituta M.DC.LXIII.
signifying that the Royal Academy of Medals and In¬
scriptions, founded in 1663, ought to give to future
ages a faithful testimony of all great actions. Besides
this wrork, we have several volumes of their memoirs ;
and their history written and continued by their secre¬
taries.
X. Academies of Belles Iettres, are those where¬
in eloquence and poetry are chiefly cultivated. These
are very numerous in Italy, and were not uncommon
in France.
T/ie Academy of Umidi at Florence has contributed
greatly to the progress of the sciences, by the excel¬
lent Italian translations given, by some of its members,
of the ancient Greek and Latin historians. Their
chief attention is to the Italian poetry, at the same
time that they have applied themselves to the polishing
of their language, which produced the Academy della
Grusca.
The Academy of Humorists, Umorisii, had its origin
at Rome from the marriage of Lorenzo Marcini, a
Roman gentleman, at which several persons of rank
were guests; and, it being carnival time, to give the
ladies some diversion, they took themselves to the re¬
citing of verses, sonnets, speeches, first extempore, and
afterwards premeditately •, which gave them the deno¬
mination of Belli Humcnd. After some experience, com¬
ing more and more into the taste of these exercises,
they resolved to form an academy of belles lettres $
and changed the title of Belli Humori for that of Hu¬
mor is ti : choosing lor their device a cloud, which, after
being formed of exhalations from the salt waters of
the ocean, returns in a gentle sweet shower $ with this
motto from Lucretius, Redit agmine dulci.
In 1690, the Acade?ny of Arcadi established at
Rome for reviving the study of poetry and of the
belles lettres. Besides most of the politer wits of
both sexes in Italy, this academy comprehends many
princes, cardinals, and other ecclesiastics ; and, to a-
void disputes about pre-eminence, all appear masked
after the manner of Arcadian shepherds. Within ten
years from its first establishment, the number of Aca-
x
6 ] A C A
demists amounted to six hundred. They hold assem- Academbl
blies seven times a year, in a mead or grove, or in the '—""v
gardens of some noblemen of distinction. Six of these
meetings are employed in the recitation of poems and
verses of the Arcadi residing at Rome ; who read their
own compositions ; except ladies and cardinals, who
are allowed to employ others. The seventh^ meeting
is set apart for the compositions of foreign or absent
members.
This academy is governed by a custos, who re¬
presents the whole society, and is chosen every four
years, with a power of electing 12 others yearly for
his assistance. Under these are two sub-custodes, one
vicar or pro-custos, and four deputies or superintend-
ants, annually chosen. The laws of the society are
immutable, and bear a near resemblance to the an¬
cient model.
There are five modes of electing members. The
first is by acclamation. This is used when sovereign
princes, cardinals, and ambassadors of kings, desire to
be admitted 5 and the votes are then given viva voce.
The second is called annumeration. This was intro¬
duced in favour of ladies and academical colonies,
where the votes are taken privately. The third, re¬
presentation, was established in favour of colonies and
universities, where the young gentry are bred 5 who
have each a privilege of recommending one or two
members privately to be balloted lor. The fourth,
surrogation j whereby new members are substituted in
the room of those dead or expelled. The last, destina-
tion ; whereby, when there is no vacancy of members,
persons of poetical merit have the title of Arcadi con¬
ferred upon them till such time as a vacancy shall hap¬
pen. All the members of this body, at their admis¬
sion, assume new pastoral names, in imitation of the
shepherds of Arcadia. The academy has several co¬
lonies of Arcadi in different cities of Italy, who are all
x-egulated after the same manner.
XI. Academies of Languages; called by some.
Grammatical Academies: as,
The Academy della Crusca at Florence, famous for its
vocabulary of the Italian tongue, was formed in 1582,
but scarce heard of before the year 1584, when it be¬
came noted for a dispute between Tasso and several of
its members. Many authors confound this with the
Florentine academy. The discourses which Torricelli,
the celebrated disciple of Galileo, delivered in the as¬
semblies, concerning levity, the wind, the power of per¬
cussion, mathematics, and military architecture, are a
proof that these academies applied themselves to things
as wTell as words.
The Academy of Fructiferi had its rise in 1617 at
an assembly of several princes and nobility of the coun¬
try, who met with a design to refine and perfect the
German tongue. It flourished long under the direc¬
tion of princes of the empire, who vrere always chosen
presidents. In 1668, the number of members arose to
upwards of 900. It was prior in time to the French
academy, which only appeared in 1629, and was not
established into an academy before the year 1635. Its
history is written in the German tongue by George
Neumarck.
The French Academy, which had its rise from a meet¬
ing of men of letters in the house of M. Conrart, in 1629.
In 1635, it was erected into an academy, by Cardinal
RLchlieu,
A C A
Academies. Kichlieu, for refining and ascertaining tlic French lan-
' . i guage and style. The number of its members was li¬
mited to 40 ; out of whom a director, chancellor, and
secretary, wrere to be chosen : the tivo former held their
posts for two months, the latter was perpetual. The mem¬
bers of this academy enjoyed several privileges and im¬
munities, among which was that of not being obliged to
answer before any court but that of the king’s house¬
hold. They met three times a-week in the Louvre j
at breaking up, 40 silver medals were distributed among
them, having on one side the king of France’s head,
and on the reverse, Protecteur deVAcademic, with lau¬
rel, and this motto, A /’ ImmortalitS. By this distri¬
bution, the attendance of the Academists was secured:
those who were present received the surplus otherwise
intended for the absent. To elect or expel a member,
at least 18 were required; nor could any be chosen unless
he petitioned for it: by this expedient, the affront of
refusals from persons elected was avoided. Religious
were not admitted ; nor could any nobleman, or person
of distinction, be admitted on another footing than as a
man of letters. None were to he expelled, except for
base and dishonest practices ; and there were but two
instances of such expulsions, the first of M. Granier
for refusing to return a deposite, the other of the Abbe
Furetiere for plagiarism. The design of this acade¬
my was to give not only rules, but examples, of good
writing. They began with making speeches on sub¬
jects taken at pleasure, about 20 of which were print¬
ed. They met with great opposition from the parlia¬
ment at their first institution ; it being two years be¬
fore the patents granted by the king could be register¬
ed. They have been severely satirized, and their style
has been ridiculed as enervating instead of refining the
French language. They are also charged with having
surfeited the world by flattery, and having exhausted
all the topics of panegyric in praise of their founder;
it being a duty incumbent on every member, at his ad¬
mission, to make a speech in praise of the king, the
cardinal, the chancellor Seguier, and the person in
whose place he is elected. The most remarkable
work of this academy is a dictionary of the French
tongue ; which, after 50 years spent in settling the
words and phrases to be used in writing, was at last
published in 1694.
The foundation of an academy similar to the above
has been proposed at Petersburgh by the learned Prin¬
cess Dashkof: it is to consist of 60 members. The
plan was approved by the late empress, who gave a fund
for its support and establishment.
The Royal Spanish Academy at Madrid held its first
meeting in July 1713, in the palace of its founder, the
Duke d’Escalona. It consisted at first of eight acade¬
mists, including the duke ; to which number 14 others
were afterwards added, the founder being chosen pre¬
sident or director. In 1714, the king granted them
his confirmation and protection. Their device is a cru¬
cible in the middle of the lire, with this motto, Lim-
pia, Fya, y da Esplendor ; “ It purifies, fixes, and gives
brightness.” The number of members is limited to
24 ; the duke d’Escalona to be director for life, but
his successors chosen yearly, and the secretary to be
perpetual. Their object, as marked out by the royal
declaration, was to cultivate and improve the national
language: they were to begin with choosing carefully
A C A
such w'ords and phrases as have been used by the best Academies
Spanish writers; noting the low, barbarous, or obsolete ||
ones ; and composing a dictionary wherein these may Acalzike-,^
be distinguished from the former. ''
XII. Academics of Politics; as that at Paris, which
consisted of six persons, who met at the Louvre, in the
chamber where the papers relating to foreign affairs
were lodged. This academy proved of little service,
as the kings of France were unwilling to trust any but
their ministers with the inspection of foreign affairs.
For a further account of similar establishments, see
the article Society in this work, and the article Aca¬
demy in the Supplement.
Academy is also a term for schools and other semi¬
naries of learning among the Jews, where their rabbins
and doctors instructed their youth in the Hebrew lan¬
guage, and explained to them the Talmud and the se¬
crets of the Cabbala : Those of Tiberias and Babylon
have been the most noted.
The Romans had a kind of military academies, esta¬
blished in all the cities of Italy, under the name of
Campi Mortis. Here the youth were admitted to be
trained for war at the public expence. The Greeks,
beside academies of this kind, had military professors
called Tactici, who taught all the higher offices of war,
&c. &c.
Academy is often used with us to denote a kind of
collegiate seminary, where youth are instructed in arts
and sciences. There is one at Portsmouth for teaching
navigation, drawing, &c. which was founded by George
I. in 1722; another at Woolwich, for fortification, gun¬
nery, &c. established by George II. in 1741.—An
account of these two institutions, and of the Royal Mi¬
litary College at Marlow, will be found under the ar¬
ticle Academy, in the Supplement.
The nonconformist ministers, &c. are bred up in
private academies ; as not approving the common uni¬
versity education. There are several academies of this
description in different parts of England.
Academy is likewise a name given to a riding-
school where young gentlemen are taught to ride the
great horse, &c. and the ground allotted is usually call¬
ed the Manege.
Academy Figure, a drawing of a naked man or wo¬
man, taken from the life ; which is usually done on
paper with red or black chalk, and sometimes with pas¬
tils or crayons.
ACADIE, or AcadY, in Geography, a name for¬
merly given to Nova Scotia, or New Scotland, in Ame¬
rica. See Nova Scotia.
ACiENA, in antiquity, a Grecian measure of
length, being a ten-feet rod, used in measuring their
lands.
Acente, in Botany. See Botany Index.
ACAJOU, or Cashew-nut tree. See Ana-
cardium, Botany Index.
ACALANDRUS, a river falling into the bay of
Tarentum, not far from the Metapontum ('Pliny, Stra¬
bo) ; now7 called Fiume de Roseto.
ACALEPTIC, in ancient prosody, a complete
verse.
ACALYPHA, the Three-seeded Mercury.
See Botany Index.
ACALZIKE, a town and fortress of Asiatic Tar¬
tary, situated in N. Lat. 41. 30. E. Long. 44. 14.
ACAMANTIS,,
[ I‘7 1
A C A [ 118 ] A C A
Acamantis AC A.M ANT IS, the ancient name of the island of
I) Cyprus, taken from one of its promontories situated to
Acapulco. tiie westj and called Acamas. Teos in Ionia was also
cal]etl thus from Acamas the founder.
ACAMAS, Acamantis, in Ancient Geography,
the west promontory of the island of Cyprus, from
whence it took its ancient name j now Cape Pisanio,
or Episanio, where formerly was a town of the same
name, now a village called Cruaocco.
Acamas, son of Theseus, followed the rest of the
Grecian princes to the siege of Troy ; and was depu¬
ted, with Diomedes, to the Trojans, in order to get
Helen restored. Laodice, Priam’s daughter, fell in
love with him, stole a night with him, and had a son
by him called Munitus. He was one of the heroes
who concealed themselves in the wooden horse. One
of the tribes of Athens was called Acamantides from
him, by the appointment of the oracle j and he founded
a city in Phrygia Major, called Acamantium. Homer
mentions two other heroes of this name *, one a Thraci¬
an prince who came to succour.Priam, another a son of
An tenor.
ACANGIS, that is, Pavagers or Adventurers ; a
name which the Turks give their hussars or light
troops, who are generally sent out in detachments to
procure intelligence, harass the enemy, or ravage the
country.
ACANTHA, in Botany, the prickle of any plant;
in Zoology, a term for the spine or prickly fins of
fishes.
ACANTHABOLUS, in Surgery, an instrument
for pulling thorns, or the like, out of the skin.
ACANTHINE, any thing resembling or belonging
to the herb acanthus. Acanthine garments, among
the ancients, are said to be made of the down of thistles $
others think they were garments embroidered in imita¬
tion of the acanthus.
ACANTHOPTERYGIOUS fishes, a term used
by Linnaeus and others for those fishes whose back fins
are hard, osseous, and prickly.
ACANTHOS, Acanthus, a town of Egypt, near
Memphis, (Pliny) $ now Bisalta. Also a maritime
town of Macedonia, to the west of Mount Athos j a
colony of Andrians (Thucydides, Ptolemy) ; now
Erisso; near which was shown Xerxes’s ditch of seven
stadia, in order to separate Mount Athos from the con¬
tinent, and convey his ships, without doubling Athos,
into the Singitic bay. Acanthos is also a town of Epi¬
rus.
ACANTHUS, Bear’s Breech, in Botany. See
Botany Index.
Acanthus, in Architecture, an ornament represent¬
ing the leaves of the acanthus, used in the capitals of
the Corinthian and Composite orders.
ACAPALA, or Acapula, a town in the province
of Chiapa, in New Spain, which is situated on Tabas¬
co river, about five leagues north-west from Chiapa.
ACAPAM, a town of Asia on the Euxine sea.
ACAPULCO, a considerable town and port in
Mexico, on a bay of the South sea, distant from the city
of Mexico south-east 210 miles. It has a remarkably
fine harbour, from whence a ship annually sails to
Manilla in the Philippine islands in Asia j and an¬
other returns annually from thence with all the trea-
2
sures of the East Indies, such as diamonds, rubies,
sapphires, and other precious stones •, the rich carpets
of Persia ; the camphire of Borneo ; the benjamin and
ivory of Pegu and Cambodia 5 the silks, muslins, and
calicoes, of the Mogul’s country; the gold dust, tea,
china ware, silk, and cabinets, of China and Japan;
besides cinnamon, cloves, mace, nutmegs, and pepper ;
insomuch that this single ship contains more riches than
many whole fleets. The goods brought to Acapulco
are carried to the city of Mexico by mules and pack
horses; and from thence to Vera Cruz on the North
sea, in order to be shipped for Europe. Acapulco is
but a small place, containing about 4000 inhabitants,
mostly people of colour; which are increased to 9000
by the resort of strangers to the annual lair, held when
the Manilla galleon arrives. A wretched fort, with
31 pieces of cannon, defends the harbour. It is equal¬
ly extensive, safe, and commodious. The bason which
constitutes this harbour is surrounded by lofty moun¬
tains, which are so dry, that they are even destitute of
water. The air here is hot, heavy, and unwholesome^
to which none can habituate themselves except certain
negroes that are born under a similar climate, or some
mulattoes. Upon the arrival of the galleons, traders
flock here from all the provinces of Mexico, to exchange
European toys, with their own cochineal and silver, for
spices, muslin, printed linens, silk, perfumes, and the
gold works of Asia. The value of the precious metals
exported in the galleon, amounts in general to about
200,000!. or 250,000k ; the value ol the goods to about
300,000k or 400,000k, according to Humboldt. W.
Long. 99. 46. N. Lat. 16. 50.
ACAKAI, a town of Paraguay in South America,
built by the Jesuits in 1624. W. Long. 51. 5. S. Lat.
26.
ACARAUNA, a small American fish, called by our
sailors the old wife. See Labrus, Ichthyology In¬
dex.
ACARI, Port, in Geography, lies on the coast of
Peru, in S. Lat. 15. 50. W. Long. 54. 40.
ACARNANIA, the first country of Free Greece,
or Greece Proper, bounded on the west by the Sinus
Ambracius, and separated from AEtolia by the river
Achelous on the east, and by the Sinus Ambracius
from Epirus. The people were called Acarnanes, de¬
noting persons unshorn ; other Etolians, to the east of
the Achelous, being called Curetes (Homer) from
being shorn. According to Lucian, they were noted
for effeminacy and incontinence ; hence the pi’overb
Porcellus Acarnanius. This country was famous for
an excellent breed of horses ; so that Axcegrixog imrog, is
a proverbial saying for a thing excellent in its kind.
It is now called il Carnia and il Despotato.
ACARON, or Accaron, a town of Palestine, called
Ekron in Scripture. It was the boundary of the Phi¬
listines to the north; stood at some distance from the
sea, near Bethshemesh ; and was famous for the idol of
Baalzebub.
AC ARE S, the Tick or Mite. See Entomology
Index.
ACASTUS, in classic history, the son of Pelias,
king of Thessaly, and one of the most famous hunters
of the time, married Hippolita, who falling desperately
in love with Peleus her son in-law, and he refusing to
gratify
ACC [ i
AeaMus gratify her wishes, she accused him to Tier husband of
|] a rape : on which he slew them both.
Acccdas. ACATALECTIC, a term in ancient poetry for
‘*^y ‘ such verses as have all t heir feet or syllables, in con¬
tradistinction to those that have a syllable too few. The
first verse of the.two following from Horace is acatalec-
tic or complete, the last is catalectic or deficient.
Solvitur acris hyems, grata vice veris et Favoni:
Trahuntque siccas machince carinas 
ACATALEPSY, signifies the impossibility of com¬
prehending something. The distinguishing tenet of the
Pyrrhonists was their asserting an absolute acatalepsy
in regard to every thing.
ACATERY, or Accatry, anciently an officer of
the king’s household, designed for a check betwixt the
clerks of the kitchen and the purveyors.
ACATHARSIA, in Medicine, an impurity of the
blood or humours.
ACATHISTUS, the name of a solemn hymn or
vigil, anciently sung in the Greek church on the Sa¬
turday of the fifth week of Lent, in honour of the Vir¬
gin, for having thrice delivered Constantinople from
the invasions of the barbarous nations. It was deno¬
minated i. e. without sitting, because, in the
celebration of the praises of the virgin, the people stood
all night singing.
ACATIUM, in Ancient Navigation, a kind of boat
or pinnace used for military purposes. The acatium
was a species of those vessels called naves actuaries, i. e.
such as were wrought with oars. It was sometimes
made use of in battle. Strabo describes it as a privateer
or pirate sloop, and Suidas, as a fishing vessel.
ACAULIS, in Botany, a term applied to certain
plants, the flowers of which have no pedicle or stalk
to support them, but rest immediately on the ground,
such as the carline thistle, &c.
ACCA, Saint, bishop of Hagustaldt, or Hexham,
in Northumberland, succeeded Wilfrid in that see in
709. He ornamented his cathedral in a most magnifi¬
cent manner 5 furnished it with plate and holy vest¬
ments •, and erected a noble library, consisting chiefly
of ecclesiastical learning, and a large collection of the
lives of the saints, which he was at great pains to pro¬
cure. He was accounted a very able divine, and was
famous for his skill in church music. He wrote several
books: particularly, Fassiones Sanctorum, The Sufferings
of the Saints: Pro illustrandis Scripturis, ad Bedam,
For explaining the Scriptures, addressed to Bede. He
died in 740, having enjoyed the see of Hexham 31
years, under Egbert king of the Northumbrians.
ACALIA, in Roman antiquity, solemn festivals held
in honour of Acca Laurentia, Romulus’s nurse : they
were otherwise called Laurentalia.
ACCAPITARE, in Law, the act of becoming vas¬
sal of a lord, or of yielding him homage and obedience.
Hence,
ACCAPITUM signifies the money paid by a vas¬
sal upon his admission to a feu.
Accapitum, in our Ancient Law, was used also to
express the relief due to the chief lord. See Relief.
ACCEDAS AD CURIAM, in English Law, a writ
lying where a man has received, or fears, false judge-
9 I , A C C
ment in an inferior court. It lies also for justice de- Aeceda*.
layed, and is a species of the writ Recordare. Aceelera-
ACCELERATION, in Mechanics, the increase of t'on-
velocity in a moving body. Accelerated motion is that v '
which continually receives fresh accessions of velocity.
Acceleration stands directly opposed to retardation,
which denotes a diminution of velocity.
Acceleration is chiefly used, in Physics, in respect
of falling bodies, i. e. of heavy bodies tending towards
the centre of the earth by the force of gravity. That
natural bodies are accelerated in their descent, is evi¬
dent from various considerations, both a priori and po¬
steriori.—Thus, we actually find, that the greater height
a body falls from, the greater impression it makes, and
the more vehemently does it strike the subject plane,
or other obstacle.
Various were the systems and opinions which philo¬
sophers produced to account for this acceleration. But
the immediate cause of acceleration is now sufficiently
obvious j the principle of gravitation, which determines
the body to descend, determining it to be accelerated by
a necessary consequence.
Suppose a body let fall from on high : the primary
cause of its beginning to descend is doubtless the power
of gravity j but when once the descent is commenced,
that state becomes in some measure natural to the
body; so that if left to itself, it would persevere in it
for ever, even though the first cause should cease : as
we see in a stone cast with the hand, which continues
to move after it is left by the cause that gave it mo¬
tion. But, beside the propensity to descend impressed
by the first cause, and which of itself were sufficient
to continue the same degree of motion, once begun,
in infinitum; there is a constant accession of subsequent
efforts of the same principle, gravity, which continues
to act on the body already in motion, in the same man¬
ner as if it were at rest. Here, then, being a double
cause of motion ; and both acting in the same direc¬
tion, viz. directly towards the centre of the earth ;
the motion they jointly produce must necessarily be
greater than that of any one of them.—And the velo¬
city thus increased having the same cause of increase
still persisting, the descent must necessarily be conti¬
nually accelerated.
The motion of a body ascending, or impelled up¬
wards, is diminished or retarded from the same prin¬
ciple of gravity acting in a contrary direction, in the
same manner as a falling body is accelerated : See Re¬
tardation. A body thus projected upwards, rises
till it has lost all its motion: which it does in the same
time that a body falling would have acquired a velo¬
city equal to that wherewith the body was thrown up.
Hence the same body thrown up, will rise to the same
height from which falling it would have acquired the
velocity wherewith it was thrown up : and hence the
heights which bodies thrown up with different veloci¬
ties do ascend to, are to one another as the squares of
these velocities.
Acceleration of Bodies on inclined Planes. The
same general law obtains here as in bodies falling per¬
pendicularly : the effect of the plane is to make the
motion slower ; but the inclination being everywhere
equal, the retardation arising therefrom will proceed
equally in all parts, at the beginning and the ending
of the motion. See Mechanics.
' Acceleration-
ACC [ 120 ] ACC
Asctlera- Acceleration of the Motion of Pendulums.—-The,
tion. motion of pendulous bodies is accelerated in their de*
k-—-y~-' scent j but in a less ratio than that of bodies falling
perpendicularly. See Mechanics and Pendulum.
Acceleration of the Motion of Projectiles. See
Projectiles.
Acceleration is also applied in the ancient astro-
noniVj in respect of the fixed stars, fills acceleration
was the difference between the revolution of the pn-
mum mobile and the solar revolution ; which 4*is com¬
puted at 3 minutes and 56 seconds.
Acceleration rf the Moon, a term used to express
the increase of the moon’s mean motion from the sun,
Compared with the diurnal motion of the earth ) so that
it is now a little swifter than it was formerly. Dr Hal¬
ley was the first who made this discovery; and he was
led to it by comparing the ancient eclipses observed at
Babylon with those observed by Albatennius in the
ninth century, and some of his own time. He was
not able to ascertain the quantity of this acceleration,
because the longitudes of Bagdad, Alexandria, and
Aleppo, where the observations were made, had not
been accurately determined. But since his time, the
longitude of Alexandria has been ascertained by Cha-
zelles ; and Babylon, according to Ptolemy’s account,
lies 50' east from Alexandria. From these data, Mr
Dunthorn compared several ancient and modern eclip¬
ses, with the calculations of them, by his own tables,
and hereby verified Dr Halley’s opinion j for he found
that the same tables represent the moon’s place more
backward than her true place in ancient eclipses, and
more forward than her true place in later eclipses, and
thence justly inferred that her motion in ancient times
was slower, in later times quicker, than the tables
give it. But he did not content himself with merely
ascertaining the fact 5 he proceeded to determine the
quantity of the acceleration ; and by means of the most
ancient eclipse of which any authentic account remains,
observed at Babylon in the year before Christ 721, he
concluded, that the observed beginning of this eclipse
was not above an hour and three quarters before the
beginning by the tables j and therefore the moon’s true
place could precede her place by computation hut little
more than 50' of a degree at that time. Admitting
the acceleration to be uniform, and the aggregate of
it as the square of the time, it will be at the rate of
about 10' in 100 years.
Dr Long attributes the acceleration above described
to one or more of these causes : either, 1. The annual
and diurnal motion of the earth continuing the same,
the moon is really carried round the earth with a greater
velocity than heretofore : or, 2. The diurnal motion
of the earth, and the periodical revolution of the moon,
continuing the same, the annual motion of the earth
round the sun is a little retarded *, which makes the
sun’s apparent motion in the ecliptic a little slower
than formerly *, and, consequently, the moon, in passing
from any conjunction with the sun, spends less time
before she again overtakes the sun, and forms a subse¬
quent conjunction : in both these cases, the motion of
the moon from the sun is really accelerated, and the sy¬
nodical month actually shortened. Or, 3. The annual
motion of the earth, and the periodical revolution of
the moon continuing the same, the rotation of the
earth round its axis is a little retarded: in this case,
days, hours, minutes, seconds, &c. by which all pe- Accelert.
riods of time must be measured, are of a longer dura- tioa
tion 3 and consequently the synodical month will ap- 11
pear to be shortened, though it really contains the same . 8(^en^
quantity of absolute time as it always did. If the quan¬
tity of matter in the body of the sun be lessened by the
particles of light continually streaming from it, the
motion of the earth round the sun may become slower :
if the eartli increases in bulk, the motion ot the moon
round the earth may he quickened thereby. See
Astronomy.
Acceleration of a Planet. A planet is said to
be accelerated in its motion when the real diurnal
motion exceeds the mean diurnal motion. On the
other hand, a planet is said to be retarded in its motion
when the mean motion exceeds the real diurnal mo¬
tion. This inequality arises from the change in the
distance of the planet from the sun, which is continual¬
ly varying j the planet moving always quicker in its
orbit when nearer the sun, and slower when farther
off.
ACCELERATOR, in Anatomy, the name of two
muscles of the penis, w hich serve for ejecting the urine
or semen. See Anatomy, Table of the Muscles.
ACCIDENTES, a lower order of ministers in the
Romish church, wdiose office is to light and trim the
candles.
ACCENDONES, in Roman antiquity, a kind of
gladiators, whose office was to excite and animate the
combatants during the engagement. The orthogra¬
phy of the word is contested : the first edition of Ter-
tullian, by Rhenanus, has it accedones; an ancient
manuscript, accendones. Aquinas adheres to the for¬
mer, Pitiscus to the latter. The origin of the word,
supposing it accendones, is from accendo, I kindle j sup¬
posing it accedones, from accedo, I accede, am added
to. The former places their distinguishing character
in enlivening the combat by their exhortations and
suggestions : the latter supposes them to be much the
same with what among us are called seconds, among the
Italians, patroni; excepting that these latter only stand
by to see the laws of the sword duly observed, without
intermeddling to give advice or instruction.
ACCENSI, in the Roman armies, certain supernu¬
merary soldiers, designed to supply the places of those
who should he killed or anywise disabled. They were
thus denominated, quia accensebantur, or ad censum ad-
jiciebantur. Vegetius calls them supernumerarii legio-
num. Cato calls them ferentarii, in regard they fur¬
nished those engaged in battle with weapons, drink,
&c. Though Nonnius suggests another reason of that
appellation, viz. because they fought with stones, slings
and weapons quee feruntur, such as are thrown, not
carried in the hand. They were sometimes also called
velites, and velati, because they fought clothed, but not
in armour: sometimes adscriptitii, and adscriptivi;
sometimes rorarii. The accensi, Livy observes, were
placed at the rear of the army, because no great matter
was expected from them 3 they were taken out of the
fifth class of citizens.
Accensi, in antiquity, denotes an inferior order of
officers, appointed to attend the Roman magistrates,
somewhat in the manner of ushers, Serjeants or tip-
staves among us. They were thus called from accire, to
send for j one part of their office being to call assemblies
ACC [i
Accensi of the people, summon parties to appear and answer
U before the judges, &c.
Accent. ^ AccENSl was also an appellation given to a kind of
'' _v adjutants, appointed by the tribune to assist each cen¬
turion and decurion. In which sense accensus is syno¬
nymous with optio. In an ancient inscription, given by
Torre, we meet with Accensus Equitum Romano-
rum j an office nowhere else heard of. That author
suspects it for a corruption j and instead thereof reads,
A CENSIBUS.
ACCENSION, the action of setting a body on fire :
thus the accension of tinder is effected by striking fire
with flint and steel.
ACCENT, in reading or speaking, an inflection of
the voice, which gives to each syllable of a word its
due pitch in respect of height or lowness. See Read¬
ing. The w'ord is originally Latin, accentus ; a com¬
pound of ad, to, and cuno, to sing. Accentus, quasi ad-
cajttus, avjuxta cantum. In this sense, accent is syno¬
nymous with the Greek reve? j the Latin tenor, or tonor ;
and the Hebrew gustus, taste.—For the doctrine
of Accents, in Composition, see Poetry, Part III.
Accent, among grammarians, is a certain mark or
character placed over a syllable to direct the stress of
its pronunciation. We generally reckon three gram¬
matical accents in ordinary use, all borrowed from the
Greeks, viz. the acute accent, ('), which shows when
the tone of the voice is to be raised. The grave ac¬
cent (' ), when the note or tone of the voice is to be
depressed. The circumjlex accent (/'), is composed of
both the acute and the grave, and points out a kind of
undulation of the voice. The Latins have made the
same use of these three accents.
The Hebrews have a grammatical, a rhetorical, and
musical accent: though the first and last seem, in effect,
to be the same ; both being comprised under the gene¬
ral name of tonic accents, because they give the pro¬
per tones to syllables ; as the rhetorical accents are said
to be euphonic, because they tend to make the pro¬
nunciation more sweet and agreeable. There are
four euphonic accents, and 25 tonic •, of which some
are placed above, and others below the syllables ; the
Hebrew accents serving not only to regulate the risings
and fallings of the voice, but also to distinguish the
sections, periods, and members of periods, in a dis¬
course } and to answer the same purposes writh the
points in other languages. Their accents are divided
into emperors, kings, dukes, &.c. each bearing a title
answerable to the importance of the distinction it makes.
Their emperor rules over a whole phrase, and termi¬
nates the sense completely ; answering to our point.
Their king answers to our colon 5 and their duke to our
comma. The king, however, occasionally becomes a
duke, and the duke a king, as the phrases are more or
less short. It must be noted, by the way, that the ma¬
nagement and combination of these accents differ in
Hebrew poetry from what they are in prose. The use
of the tonic or grammatical accents has been much con¬
troverted 5 some holding that they distinguish the
sense ; while others maintain that they are only intend¬
ed to regulate the music, or singing; alleging that the
Jews sing, rather than read, the Scriptures in their sy-
! Cooper nagogues *. Be this, however, as it will, it is certain
^ic'cia,0' anc‘ent Hebrews were not acquainted with these
‘ v' accents. The opinion which prevails amongst the
'3‘ Vol.1. Parti. f
21 ] ACC
learned is, that they were invented about the sixth Accertf.
century, by the Jewish doctors of the school of Tibe- —y—-
rias, called the Massorcts.
As to the Greek accents, norv seen both in manu¬
scripts and printed hooks, there has been no less dispute
about their antiquity and use than about those of the
Hebrews. Isaac Vossius endeavours to prove them of
modern invention j asserting, that anciently they had
nothing of this kind, but only a few notes in their poe¬
try, which were invented by Aristophanes the gramma¬
rian, about the time of Ptolemy Philopater ; and that
these were of musical, rather than grammatical use,
serving as aids in the singing of their poems, and very
different from those introduced afterwards. He also
shows from several ancient grammarians, that the man¬
ner of writing the Greek accents in these days was quite
different from that which appears in our books. The
author of La Methode Greque, p. 546, observes, that the
right pronunciation of the Greek language being natu¬
ral to the Greeks, it was needless for them to mark it by
accents in their writings : so that, according to all ap¬
pearance, they only began to make use of them about
the time, when the Romans, wishing to learn the
Greek tongue, sent their children to study at Athens,
thinking thereby to fix the pronunciation, and to faci¬
litate it to strangers ; which happened, as the same au¬
thor observes, a little before Cicero’s time. Wetstein,
Greek professor at Basil, in a learned di-sertation, en¬
deavours to prove the Greek accents of an older stand¬
ing. He owns that they wrere not always formed in the
same manner by the ancients $ but thinks that difference
owing to the different pronunciation which obtained in
the different parts of Greece. He brings several reasons,
a priori, for the use of accents, even in the earliest
days : as that they then wrote all in capital letters equi¬
distant from each other, without any distinction either of
words or phrases, which without accents could scarce be
intelligible; and that accents Avere necessary to distin¬
guish ambiguous words, and to point out their proper
meaning: which he confirms from a dispute on a pas¬
sage in Homer, mentioned by Aristotle in his Poetics,
chap. v. Accordingly, he observes, that the Syrians,
who have tonic, hut no distinctive accents, have yet in¬
vented certain points, placed either below or above the
words, to show their mood, tense, person, or sense.
Mr B rowne of Trinity College, Dublin, has entered
more deeply into this investigation *, and as he had an
opportunity of conversing with the crew of a Greek
ship from Patrass, a town situated not far distant from
the ancient Corinth, which had been driven by stress
of weather into the port of Dingle in Ireland, the re¬
sult of his inquiries was, that the practice of the mo¬
dern Greeks is different from any of the theories that
have been delivered in books. “ It is true, he observes,
they have not two pronunciations for prose and for
verse, and iu both they read by accent, but they make
accent the cause of quantity ; they make it govern and
controul quantity ; they make the syllable long on
which the acute accent falls, and they allow the acute
accent to change the real quality. They always read
poetry as well as prose by accent. Whether any in¬
ference can hence be drawn as to the pronunciation of
the ancients, I must leave, after what I have premised
above, to men of more learning, but I think it at least
so probable as to make it worth while to mention the
Q instances
ACC [ 122 ] ACC
Accent, instances which occurred in proof of this assertion more
■—V——^ particularly. Of the two first persons whom I met,
one, the steward of the ship, an inhabitant of the island
of Cephalonia, had had a school education : he read
Euripides, and translated some easier passages without
much difficulty. By a stay in this country of near two
years, he was able to speak English very tolerably, as
could the captain and several of the crew ; and almost
all of them spoke Italian fluently. The companion,
however, of the steward could speak only modern Greek,
in which I could discover that he was giving a descrip¬
tion of the distress in which the ship had been, and
though not able to understand the context, I could plain¬
ly distinguish many words, such as and a-
mong the rest the sound of pronounced short;
this awoke my curiosity, which was still more heighten¬
ed when I observed that he said AvOcotthv long, with the
same attention to the alteration of the accent with the
variety of case, which a boy would be taught to pay
at a school in England. Watching therefore more
closely, and asking the other to read some ancient
Greek, I found that they both uniformly pronounced
according to accent, without any attention to long or
short syllables where accent came in the way ; and on
their departure, one of them having bade me good day,
by saying to which I answered KxXr^^x, he
with strong marks of reprobation set me right, and
repeated KaXypiga ; and with like censure did the cap¬
tain upon another occasion observe upon my saying So¬
crates instead of Socrates.
“ I now had a strong wish to know whether they
observed the distinction in this respect usually between
verse and prose, but from the little scholarship of the
two men with whom I bad conversed, from the igno¬
rance ot a third whom I afterwards met, (who however
read Lucian with ease, though he did not seem ever
to have heard of the book), and on account of my im-
perlect mode of conversing with them all, I had little
hopes of satisfaction on the point, nor was I clear that
they perfectly knew the difference between verse and
prose. At length having met with the commander of
the ship, and his clerk Athanasius Ke ve^oj, and finding
that the latter had been a seboolmaster in the Morea,
and had here learnt to speak English fluently, I put
the question to them in the presence of a very learned
college friend, and at another time, to avoid any error,
with the aid of a gentleman who is perfectly master of
the Italian language. Both the Greeks repeatedly as¬
sured us that verse as well as prose was read by accent,
and not by quantity, and exemplified it by reading se¬
veral lines of Homer, with whose name they seemed
perfectly well acquainted.
“ I shall give an instance or two of their mode of
reading:
Bij <) xxsaiy rxgx ffiVas TroXvipXoi^oio 9-xXciirrv)S,
’Toy J UTrx^ti^ofxevog TTQoo'i Qvi tto^x? oikvs
Ej £ iTrihicii; uyitgopiv, Jj UXTOpi&W.
They made the s in axwy, TTgoe-tpn, and sgtr^s long.
But when they read.
KXvCi Uiy, ’AgfygoTflf’, OS X^va-tiy ctutpi&ZijKcts,
they made the second syllable of the first word KXv6i
short, notwithstanding the acute accent: on my asking
why, they desired me to look back on the circumflex
on the first syllable, and said it thence necessarily fol¬
lowed ; for it is impossible to pronounce the first sylla¬
ble with the great length which the circumflex denotes,
and not to shorten the second. The testimony of the
schoolmaster might be vitiated, but what could be
stronger, than that of these ignorant mariners as to the
vulgar common practice of modern Greece 5 and it is
remarkable that this confirms the opinion of Bishop
Horsley, that the tones of words in connexion are not
always the same with the tones of solitary words,
though in those of more than one syllable the accentual
marks do not change their position. I must here add
that these men confirmed an observation which I have
heard made, that we are much mistaken in our idea of
the supposed lofty sound of TroXv^XoiirZoto SxXxtrcryis, that
the borderers on the coast of the Archipelago take
their ideas from the gentle laving of the shore by a
summer wave, and not from the roaring of a winter
ocean, and they accordingly pronounced it Polyp/ilisveo
thalasses.
“ I own that the observations made by me on the pro¬
nunciation of these modern Greeks brought a perfectly
new train of ideas into my mind. I propose them,
with humility, for the consideration of the learned’, hut
they have made a strong impression upon me, and ap¬
proached, when compared with other admitted facts,
nearly to conviction. In short, I am strongly inclined
to believe, that what the famous treatise so often men¬
tioned on the prosodies of the Greek and Latin lan¬
guages mentions as the peculiarity of the English, that
we always prolong the sound of the syllable on which
the acute accent falls, is true, and has been true of
every nation upon earth. We know it is true of the
modern Italians—they read Latin in that respect just
as we do, and say, Arma virunufie cano, and, In nova
fert animus, as much as we. And when we find the
modern Greeks following the same practice, surely we
have some cause to suppose that the ahcients did the
same. In the English language, indeed, quantity is
not affected, because accent and quantity always agree.
Bishop Horsley endeavoured to prove that they did so
in Greek, but this is on the bold supposition that the
accent doth not fall where the mark is placed. The
objection to this hypothesis, which seems to have been
admitted by all writers, and considered as decisive by
some as to prose, by all as to verse, is that such a mode
of pronunciation or reading must destroy metre, or
rhytkmos. From this position, however universal, or
however it may have been taken for granted, I totally
dissent. That it will oppose the metre or quantity I
readily agree, hut that it will destroy the rhythmos,
by which, whatever learned descriptions there may have
been of its meaning, I understand nothing more than the
melody or smooth flowing of the verses, or their harmony
if you please, if harmony be properly applied to suc¬
cessive and not synchronal sounds. On the contrary,
nothing can be more disagreeable or unmelodious than
the reading verse by quantity, or scanning of it, as it is
vulgarly called. Let us try the line so often quoted—-
Arma vtrumque cana, Ti ojcs qui primus ah oris,
instead of
Arma virumque cano, Trojce qui primus ab oris.
“ No
ACC [123 ] ACC
Accent. <! man ever defined rhythmos better than Plato,
a—-y —■"■f or dine m quendam qui in motibus cernitur ; the motion
or measure of the verse may be exact, and yet the or¬
der, arrangement, and disposition of the letters and syl¬
lables, such as to be grating and unmelodious to the
car. In like manner the feet of the verse may be
exact, but the stress laid upon particular syllables of it
which follows the quantity may totally destroy the me¬
lody : in short, the radical error seems to be the con¬
fusion of quanti-y with melody, and the supposition that
whatever is at war with quantity and metre must be at
war with melody.
“ It will be asked then what is the use of metre or
measure in verse, if we are not to read by it; and here
is the grand difficulty, and I own with candour I cannot
answer it with perfect satisfaction to my own mind : to
those indeed who say we are to read by accent in prose,
it may be equally asked what is the use of long or short
syllables in prose, if we are not to attend to them when
accent comes in the rvay: but to those who think other¬
wise, I can only answer, that in the first place accent
doth not always interfere, and then quantity is our guide,
and accent often accords with quantity. Secondly, Me¬
tre determines the number of feet or measures in each
verse, and thereby produces a general analogy and har¬
mony through the whole; and it is to be observed, that,
as I apprehend, accent doth not change the number of
feet, though it doth the nature or species of them. Thus
when we read
Arma virumqne cdno, Trojce qui primus tib oris,
we do not make more feet than when we scan the line,
nor employ more time than in pronouncing the next
line in which the accent happens to accord with the
quantity, viz.
Italiam fato profugus, Lavinaque venit.
Thirdly, the poet in measuring his verse certainly
must be confined to some certain number and order of
long and short syllables, in order to produce a concord¬
ance through the whole, and even to regulate the posi¬
tion of accent, which though not subdued by quantity
will certainly have some relation toil, euphoniee gratia;
but surely the length or shortness of a syllable cannot
determine where emphasis shall he placed—that must
depend on the meaning and the thought; and it would
be most absurd for the poet to say to the reader, you
shall not rest upon this emphatic and significative word
because its syllables are short, and wherever there is a
rest, there must be length and intonation.” (Irish Trans.
vol. vii.)
'I he use of accents, to prevent ambiguities, is most
remarkably perceived in some eastern languages, par¬
ticularly the Siamese and Chinese. Among the peo¬
ple of China, every word, or (which is the same thing)
syllable, admits of five accents, as spoken more acutely
or remissly ; and thus stands for many different things.
The same sound ya, according to the accent affixed to
it, signifies God, a wall, excellent, stupidity, and -agoose.
The Chinese have but 330 spoken words in their lan¬
guage; but these being multiplied by the different ac¬
cents or tones, which affect the vowels, furnish a lan¬
guage tolerably copious. By means hereof, their 330
simple sounds come to denote 1650 things; but this
being hardly sufficient, they are increased further by-
aspirates added to each word to double the number. Accent
1 he Chinese only reckon four accents: for which the ||
missionaries use the following marks, ad, d, a, a ; to Accessory,
which they have added a fifth, thus «. They make a v ' f
kind of modulation ; wherein, prolonging the duration
of the sound of the vowel, they vary the tone, raising
and sinking it by a certain pitch of voice : so that their
talking is a sort of music or singing. Attempts have
been made to determine the quantity of the rise or fall
on each accent by means of musical notes ; but this is
hard to effect, as being different in different persons.
Hence the great difficulty of the language to foreigners;
they are forced to sing most scrupulously : if they de¬
viate ever so little from the accent, they say quite a
different thing from what was intended. Thus, mean¬
ing to compliment the person you are talking of with
the title Sir, you call him a beast with the same word,
only a little varied in the tone. Magalhon makes the
language the easier to learn on this account. The Sia¬
mese are also observed to sing rather than to talk. Their
alphabet begins with six characters, all only equivalent
to a K, but differently accented. For though in the
pronunciation the accents are naturally on the vowels,
yet they have some to diversify such of their consonants
as are in other respects the same. .
Accent, in Music, is a certain enforcement of par¬
ticular sounds, whether by the voice or instruments,
generally used at the beginning of bars.
AC CEP IANCE, in Law, a person’s agreeing to
offers made in bargaining, by which the bargain is con¬
cluded.
Acceptance, in the church of Rome, is put for re¬
ceiving the pope’s constitutions.
Acceptance,-in Commerce, is the subscribing, sign¬
ing, and making one’s self debtor for the sum contained
in a bill of exchange or other obligation.
ACCEPTATION, in Grammar, the sense or mean¬
ing in which any word is taken.
ACCEPTER, or Acceptor, the person who ac¬
cepts a BILL of exchange, &c.
ACCEPTILATION, among civilians, an acquit¬
tance or discharge given by the creditor to the debtor
without the payment of any value.
ACCESSIBLE, something that may be approach¬
ed, or that access may be had to. Thus we say, Such
a place is accessible on one side, &c.
ACCESSION, in Law, is a method of acquiring
property, by which, in things that have a close connec¬
tion or dependance upon one another, the property of
the principal thing draws after it the property of the
accessory : Thus, the owner of a cow becomes likewise
the owner of the calf. It sometimes likewise signifies
consent or acquiescence.
^ Accession, among physicians, is used for a paroxysm
of a disease ; among politicians, it signifies a prince’s
succeeding to the government upon the death of his pre¬
decessor.
ACCESSORY, or Accessary, something that ac¬
cedes, or is added to another more considerable thing;
in which sense the word stands opposed to principal.
Accessory, or Accessary, in Common Law., is chiefly
used for a person guilty of a felonious offence, not prin¬
cipally, but by participation : as by advice, command,
cr concealment.
There are two kinds of accessories; before the fact,
Q 3 and
Accessory
II.
Acciaioli.
ACC [ 124 ] ACC
and after it. The first is he who commands, or pro-
cur s another to commit felony, and is not present him¬
self 3 for if he he present he is a principal. The second
is he who receives, assists, or comforts any man that has
done murder or felony, whereof he has knowledge. A
man may also be -accessory to an accessory, by aiding,
receiving, &c. an accessory in felony.
An accessory in felony shall have judgment of life
and member, as well as the principal who did the fe¬
lony 3 but not till the principal be first attainted, and
convict, or outlawed thereon. Where the principal is
pardoned without attainder, the accessory cannot be
arraigned 3 it being a maxim in law, Ubi non est prin¬
cipalis* non potest esse accessorius: but if the principal
be pardoned, or have his clergy after attainder, the ac¬
cessory shall be arraigned 3 4 and 5 W. et M. cap. 4.
And by stat. 1 Anne, cap 9. it is enacted, that where
the principal is convicted of felony, or stands mute, or
challenges above 2o of the jury, it shall be lawful to
proceed against the accessory in the same manner as if
the principal had been attainted 3 and notwithstanding
such principal shall be admitted to his clergy, pardon¬
ed, or delivered before attainder. In some cases also,
if the principal cannot be taken, then the accessory may
be prosecuted for a misdemeanour, and punished by fine,
imprisonment, &c. In the lowest and highest offences
there are no accessories, but all are principals : as in
riots, routs, forcible entries, and other trespasses, which
are the lowest offences. So also in the highest offence,
which is, according to the English law, high treason,
there are no accessories.
Accessories, in petty treason, murder, and in felonies
of several kinds, are not to have their clergy. There
can be no accessory before the fact in manslaughter:
because that is sudden and unprepensed.
Accessory Nerves, in Anatomy, a pair of nerves,
which arising from the medulla in the vertebrae of the
neck, ascend, and enter the skull, and pass out of it
again with the par vagum, wrapped up in the same
common integument, and after quitting them, are di¬
stributed into the muscles of the neck and shoulders.
See Anatomy.
Accessory, among painters, an epithet given to
such parts of a history-piece as serve chiefly for orna¬
ment, and might have been wholly left out: such as
vases, armour, &c.
ACCI, in Ancient Geography, a town of Tarraconensis,
formerly called Acti; supposed to be Guadix, to the east
of the city of Granada in Spain, at the foot of a moun¬
tain near the source of the rivulet Guadalantin 3 now
greatly decayed. It is the Colonia Aecitana Gemella,
and was of some repute among the Roman colonies.
The people were called Gemeilenses, because the co¬
lony consisted of colonists from the third and sixth le¬
gions.
ACCIAIOLI, Donato, a native of Florence, was
born in 1428, and was famous for his learning and the
honourable employments which he held. He wrote, a
Latin translation of some of Plutarch’s Lives 3 Com¬
mentaries on Aristotle’s Ethics and Politics 3 and the
Lives of Hannibal, of Scipio, and of Charlemagne. He
was sent to France by the Florentines, to solicit aid
from Louis XL against Pope Sixtus IV. but on his
journey died at Milan in 1478 j his body was carried
to Florence, and buried in the church of the Carthu¬
sians at the public expence. The small fortune he left Acciaiali
his children is a proof of his probity and disinterested- ||
ness. His daughters, like those of Aristides, were por-^cc^entak
tioned by his fellow-citizens, as an acknowledgement of'
his services. His funeral eulogium was spoken by Chri¬
stopher Landini 5 and an elegant epitaph, by Politian,
was inscribed on his tomb.
ACCIDENT, in a general sense, denotes any casual
event.
Accident, among Logicians, is used in a threefold
sense. 1. Whatever does not essentially belong to a
thing 3 as the clothes a man wears, or the money in his
pocket. 2. Such properties in any subject as are not
essential to it ; thus whiteness in paper is an acci¬
dental quality. 3. In opposition to substance, all qua¬
lities whatever are called accidents 3 as sweetness, soft¬
ness, &c.
Accident, in Grammar, implies a property attach¬
ed to a word, without entering into its essentiab defi¬
nition 3 for every word, notwithstanding its significa¬
tion, will be either primitive, derivative, simple, or
compound, which are the accidents of words. A word
is said to be primitive, when it is taken from no other
word in the language in which it is used : thus heaven^
king, good, are primitive words. It is said to be deri¬
vative, when it is taken from some other word : thus
heavenly, kingdom, goodness, &c. are derivatives. A
simple word is easily distinguished from a compound:
thus just, justice, are simple words 3 unjust, injustice,
are compound : res is a simple word, as well as pu¬
blican but respuhliea is a compound. Besides these ac¬
cidents which are common to all sorts of words, each
particular species has its accidents: thus the accidents
of the noun substantive are the gender, declension, and
number 3 and the adjective has another accident, name¬
ly the comparison. See the articles Grammar and
Language.
Accident, in Heraldry, an additional point or mark
in a coat of arms, which may be either omitted or re¬
tained without altering the essence of the armour 3 such
as abatement, diflerence, and tincture.
ACCIDENTAL, in a general sense, implies some¬
thing that happens by accident, or that is not essential
to its subject.
Accidental, in Philosophy, is applied to that effect
which flows from some cause intervening by accident,
without being subject, or at least without any appearance
of being subject, to general laws or regular returns. In
this sense, accident is opposed to constant -dwAprincipal.
Thus the sun’s place is, with respect to the earth, the
constant and principal cause of the heat in summer, and
the cold in winter ; whereas, winds, snows, and rains,
are the accidental causes which often alter and modify
the action of their principal cause.
Accidental Colours, are those which depend upon
the affections of the eye, in contradistinction to those
which belong to light itself. The impressions made
upon the eye by looking steadfastly on objects of a par¬
ticular colour are various, according to the single co¬
lour or combination of colours in the object; and they
continue for some time after the eye is withdrawn, and
give a false colouring to other objects. M. Buffon
has endeavoured to trace the connections which these
accidental colours have with such as are natural,
in a variety of instances. The subject has also beeiv
considered..
A C C [ i
•cidental coiisitlered by De la Hire and M. iEpinus j and M.
|| d’Arcy has contrived a machine for determining the
Accius. duration of those impressions on the eye 5 and from the
iesult of several experiments, he inferred, that the ef¬
fect of the action of light on the eye continued about
eight thirds of a minute.
Accivextal Point, in Perspective, is that point in
the horizontal line where the projeetions ol two lines
parallel to each other meet the perspective plane.
ACC1PENSEK. See Ichthyology Index.
ACCIPITER, among the Romans, signified a hawk,
which, from its being very carnivorous, they consider¬
ed as a bird of bad omen :
Odimus accipitrem, quia semper vivit in armis. Ovid.
Pliny, however tells us, that in some cases, particu¬
larly in marriage, it was esteemed a bird of good omen,
because it never eats the hearts of other birds 5 intimat¬
ing thereby, that no differences in a married state ought
to reach the heart. The accipiter u7as worshipped as a
divinity by the inhabitants of Tentyra, an island in the
Nile, being considered by them as the image of the
sun 5 and hence we find that luminary represented, in
hieroglyphics, under the figure of a hawk.
ACCIPITRES, the name of Linnaeus’s first order
of birds. See Ornithology.
ACCISMUS denotes a feigned refusal of some¬
thing which a person earnestly desires. The word is
Latin ; or rather Greek, uKKierptf ; supposed to be
formed from Acco, the name of a foolish old woman
noted in antiquity for an affectation of this kind.
Accismus is sometimes considered as a virtue j some¬
times as a vice, which Augustus and Tiberius prac¬
tised with great success. Cromwell’s refusal of the
crown of England may be brought as an instance of an
accismus.
Accismus is more particularly used in Rhetoric, as
a species of irony.
ACCITUM, in Ancient Geography, a town of His-
pania Bcetica, now7 Finiana, as appears from an ancient
inscription ; situated on an eminence of the mountains
Alpuxaras, in the province of Granada in Spain.
ACCIUS, Lucius, a Latin tragic poet, the son of
a freedman, and, according to St Jerome, born in the
consulship of Hostilius Mancinus and Attilius Serra-
nus, in the year of Rome 583 : but there appears
somewhat of confusion and perplexity in this chronolo¬
gy. He made himself known before the death of Pa-
cuvius, by a dramatic piece, which was exhibited the
same year that Pacuvius brought one upon the stage,
the latter being then eighty years of age, and Accius
only thirty. We do not know the name of this piece
of Accius’s, but the titles of several of his tragedies
are mentioned by various authors. He wrote on the
most celebrated stories which had been represented on
the Athenian stage j as Andromache, Andromeda, A-
treus, Clytemnestra, Medea, Meleager, Phiioctetes,
the civil wars of Thebes, Tereus, the Troades, &c.
He did not always, however, take his subjects from
the Grecian story : for he composed one dramatic piece
wholly Roman : It was entitled Brutus, and related to
the expulsion of the Tarquins. It is affirmed by some
that he wrote also comedies; which is not unlikely, if
he was the author of two pieces, the Wedding and
the Merchant, which have been ascribed to him. He
25 ]
ACC
did not confine himself to dramatic writing j for he left Acciu*,
other productions, particularly his annals, mentioned Acclama.
by Macrobius, Priscian, Eestus, and Nonnius Marcel- , tion* ,
lus. He has been censured for writing in too harsh a ¥
style, but in all other respects has been esteemed a very
great poet. He was so much esteemed by the public,
that a comedian was punished, for only mentioning his
name on the stage. Cicero speaks with great derision
of one Accius who had written a history j and, as our
author had wrote annals, some insist that he is the per¬
son censured : but as Cicero himself, Horace, Quinti¬
lian, Ovid, and Paterculus, have spoken of our author
with so much applause, we cannot think it is the same
person whom the Roman orator censures with so much
severity.
There was also in this age a pretty good orator of
the same name, against whom Cicero defended Cluen-
tius. He was born in Pisaurum, and perhaps was a
relation of our poet.
Accius, a poet of the 16th century, to whom is at¬
tributed A Paraphrase of iEsop’s Fables, on which Ju¬
lius Scaliger bestows great encomiums.
ACCLAMATION, a confused noise or shout of '
joy, by which the public express their applause, esteem*
or approbation.
Acclamation, in a more proper sense, denotes a
certain form of words, uttered with extraordinary ve¬
hemence, and in a peculiar tone somewhat resembling
a song, frequent in the ancient assemblies. Acclama¬
tions were usually accompanied with applauses, with
which they are sometimes confounded: though they
ought to be distinguished ; as acclamation was given by
the voice, applause by the hands : add, that acclamation
was also bestowed on persons absent, applause only on
those present. Acclamation was also given by women*
wdiereas applause seems to have been confined to men.'
Acclamations are of various kinds ^ ecclesiastical, mi¬
litary, nuptial, senatorial, synodical, scholastical, thea¬
trical, &o. We meet w7ith loud acclamations, musical
and rhythmical acclamations $ acclamations of joy and
respect, and even of reproach and contumely. The
former, wherein words of happy omen were used, were
also called Laudationes, et bona vota, or good wishes j
the latter, Execrationes et convicia. Suetonius furnishes
an instance of this last kind in the Roman senate, on
occasion of the decree for demolishing the statues of
Homitian, when the fathers, as the historian represents
it, could not refrain from contumelious acclamations of
the deceased. The like were shown after the death of
Commodtts, where the acclamations run in the follow¬
ing strain : Hostipatria honores detrahantur,pai'ricidas
honor es detrahantur ; hostis statu as undique, pnrricidce,
statuas undique, gladiatoris statuas undique, &cc.——The
formula, in acclamations, was repeated sometimes a
greater, sometimes a lesser, number of times. Hence
we find in Roman writers, acclamatum est quinquies, et
vicies; five times, and twenty times 5 sometimes also
sexagies, and even ociuagics ; sixty and eighty times.
Acclamations were not unknown on the theatres in
the earliest ages of the Roman commonwealth j but
they were artless then, and little other than confused
shouts. Afterwards they became a sort of regular con¬
certs. That mentioned by Phsedrus, lecture incolumis
Roma salvoprincipe, which was made for Augustus, and
proved the occasion of a pleasant mistake of a flute-
pi ay eiv
ACC [ 126 1 ACC
Ac cl am a- player called Trinccps, shows that musical acclamations
tion. were in use in that emperor’s reign. RevertenUm ex
''t provincia modulatis carminibus prosequebantvr, says
Suetonius, who gives another instance in the time of
Tiberius : a false report of Germanicus’s recovery be¬
ing spread through Rome, the people ran in crowds to
the capitol with torches and victims, singing, Salva
Roma, Salva Patria, Salvus est Germanicm.—Nero,
passionately fond of music, took special care to improve
and perfect the music of acclamations. Charmed with
the harmony with which the Alexandrians, who came
to the games celebrated at Naples, had sung his praises,
lie brought several over to instruct a number of youth,
chosen from among the knights and people, in the dif¬
ferent kinds of acclamations practised at Alexandria.
These continued in use as long as the reign of Theo-
doric. But the people did not always make a single
chorus ; sometimes there were two, who answered each
other alternately : thus, when Nero played on the
theatre, Burrhus and Seneca, who were on either
hand, giving the signal by clapping, 5000 soldiers
called Augustals, began to chant his praise, which the
spectators were obliged to repeat. The whole was
conducted by a music-master called mesochorus or pan-
sarius.—The honour of acclamations was chiefly ren¬
dered to emperors, their children, and favourites j and
to the magistrates who presided at the games. Per¬
sons of distinguished merit also sometimes received
them, of which Quintilian gives us instances in Cato
and Virgil. The most usual forms were, Felicitcr, Lon-
gtorem vitam, Annas felices. The actors themselves,
and they who gained the prizes in the games of the
circus, were not excluded the honour of acclamations.
To theatrical acclamations may be added those of
the soldiery and the people in time of triumph. The
victorious army accompanied their general to the capi¬
tol \ and, among the verses they sung in his praises, fre¬
quently repeated lo TniUMPHE, which the people an¬
swered in the same strain. It was also in the way of
acclamation, that the soldiers gave their general the
title of Imperaior, after some notable victory : a title
which he only kept till the time of his triumph.
The acclamations of the senate were somewhat more
serious than the popular ones •, but arose from the same
principles, viz. a desire of pleasing the prince or his fa¬
vourites j and aimed likewise at the same end, either
to express the general approbation and zeal of the
company, or to congratulate him on his victories, or to
make him new protestations of fidelity. These accla¬
mations were usually given after a report made by some
senator, to which the rest all expressed their consent by
crying Omnes, Omnes 5 or else, JEquum est, Jus-
TUM EST. Sometimes they began with acclamations,
and sometimes ended with them without other debates.
It was after this manner that all the elections and pro¬
clamations of emperors, made by the senate, were con¬
ducted 5 something of which practice is still retained
at modern elections of kings and emperors, where Vivat
Rex, and Long live the Ri?ig, are customary forms of
acclamation.
The Greeks borrowed the custom of receiving their
emperors in the public places from the Romans. Luit-
prand relates, that at a procession where he was pre¬
sent, they sung to the emperor Nicephorus, ncXhu trjj;;
that is, Many years; which Coddin expresses thus, by
to to TTcXv^cno)), or by to oro>ia^ov<^£<» ; and the
wish or salutation by ToXv^ouo-p.ei. And at dinner,
the Greeks then present wished with a loud voice to
the emperor and Bardas, Ut IJetes annos multiplied ; as
he translates the Greek. Plutarch mentions an accla¬
mation so loud, upon occasion of Flaminius’s restoring
liberty to Greece, that the very birds fell from heaven
with the shout. The Turks practise something like
this on the sight of their emperors and grand viziers
to this day.
For the acclamations with which authors, poets, &c.
were received, who recited their works in public; it is
to be observed, the assemblies for this purpose were held
with great parade in the most solemn places, as the Ca¬
pitol, temples, the Athenaeum, and the houses of great
men. Invitations were sent everywhere, in order to
get the greater appearance. The chief care was, that
the acclamations might be given with all the order and
pomp possible. Men of fortune who pretended to wit,
kept able applauders in their service, and lent them to
their friends. Others endeavoured to gain them by
presents ami treats. Philostratus mentions a young
man named Vavus, who lent money to the men of let¬
ters, and forgave the interest to such as applauded his
exercises. These acclamations w?ere conducted much
after the same manner as those in the theatre, both as
to the music and the accompaniments: they were to
he suited both to the subject and to the person. There
were particular ones for the philosophers, for orators,
for historians, and for poets. It would be difficult to re¬
hearse all the forms of'them ; one of the most usual was
Sophos, which was to be repeated three times. Martial
comprehends several other usual forms in this verse;
Graviter, Citb, Nequiter, Euge, Reate.
Neither the Greeks nor Romans were barren on this
head. The names of gods and heroes were given those
whom they would extol. It was not enough to do it
after each head of discourse, chiefly after the exordium ;
hut the acclamations were renewed at every fine pas¬
sage, frequently at every period.
The acclamations with which the spectators honoured
the victories of the athletse, were a natural consequence
of the impetuous motions which attended the gymna¬
stic games. The cries and acclamations of the people,
sometimes expressing their compassion and joy, some¬
times their horror and disgust, are strongly painted by
different poets and orators.
Acclamations made also a part of the ceremony of
marriage. They were used for the omen’s sake ; being
the Lceta Omina, sometimes spoken of before marriage
in Roman writers.
Acclamations, at first practised in the theatre, and
passing thence to the senate, &c. were in process of time
received into the acts of councils, and the ordinary as¬
semblies of the church. The people expressed their
approbation of the preacher variously ; the more usual
forms were, Orthodox ! Third Apostle, Sfc. These ac¬
clamations being sometimes carried to excess, and often
misplaced, were frequently prohibited by the ancient
doctors, and at lengtli abrogated; though they ap¬
pear to have been in some use about the time of St
Bernard.
Acclamation
ACC [ i
•damn- Acclamation Medals, among Antiquaries, such as
tioa represent the people expressing their joy in the posture
1| of acclamation.
tceolti. ^ ACCLIVITY, the rise or ascent of a hill, in oppo-
v sition to the declivity or descent of it. Some writers
on fortification use it for the talus of a rampart.
ACCOLA, among the Romans, signified a person
who lived near some place ; in which sense, it differed
from incola, the inhabitant of such a place.
ACCOLADE, a ceremony anciently used in the
conferring of knighthood.
Antiquaries are not agreed wherein the accolade
properly consisted. The generality suppose it to be the
embrace, or kiss, which princes anciently gave the new
knight, as a token of their affection : whence the word
accolade ; q. d. a clasping, or taking round the neck.
Others will rather have it to be a blow on the chine of
the neck, given on the same occasion. The Accolade
is of some antiquity, in whichsoever of the two senses
it be taken. Greg, de Tours writes, that the kings of
France, even of the first race, in conferring the gilt
shoulder belt, kissed the knights on the left cheek. For
the accolee, or blow, John of Salisbury assures us, it
was in use among the ancient Normans : by this it
was that William the Conqueror conferred the honour
of knighthood on his son Henry. At first it was given
with the naked fist; but was afterwards changed into
a blow with the flat of the sword on the shoulder of
the knight.
ACCOLF/E, sometimes synonymous with Acco¬
lade, which see.—It is also used in various senses in
heraldry ; sometimes it is applied to two things joined 5
at other times, to animals with crowns or coilai's about
their necks, as the lion in the Ogilvy’s arms j and, last¬
ly, to kews, battons, maces, swoi’ds, &c. placed saltier-
wise behind the shield.
ACCOLTI, Benedict, the younger, grandson of
Benedict Accolti the elder, who flourished about the
year 1376, was born at Arezzo in 1415. About the
year 1450, he was appointed secretary to the republic
of Florence, when he was greatly distinguished. He
wrote “ Four Books concerning the War which the
Christians carried on against the infidels to recover
Judgea and the Holy Sepulchre.” This work was
printed at Venice in 1532, and it is the ground-plot
ol Tasso’s Jerusalem Delivered. He wrote also an ac¬
count of the “ Excellent Personages of his Time,” in
the form of dialogue. He died.in 1466.
Accolti, Benedict, was nephew, or according to
some, grandson of Peter Accolti, and was born at
Florence in 1497. He was much distinguished for his
knowledge of law, and a most retentive memory ; and
was such, a master of the Latin language, that he ob¬
tained the flattering appellation of the Cicero of the age.
Fie enjoyed very high ecclesiastical honours : Leo X.
bestowed on him the bishopric of Cadiz ; Adrian the VI,
gave him that of Cremona, and the archbishopric of
Ravenna*, and Clement VII. raised him to the x*ank
of cardinal. At the xequest of Clement, he wrote a
treatise in vindication of the pope’s right to the king¬
dom of Naples. He left several other works, and
particularly some pieces of poetx*y. He died at Flo¬
rence in 1549.
Accolti, Francis, brother of the former, was born
about the year 1418. He was professor of jurispru-
1-
27 ] ACC
dence in several universities, and was styled the prince Acoolti
of lawyers. His understanding was vigorous, his know- ||
ledge was extensive, and his eloquence powerful j but Accompa-
he was so sordidly parsimonious that he amassed im- , iUtmnu ^
mense treasures. He died about the year 1470 ; and
left behind him several works on law, and some trans¬
lations of the works of Chrysostom.
Accolti, Peter, the son of Benedict the younger,
was born at Arezzo about the year 1455. He was a
professor of law, and taught with great reputation. He
was successively raised to several bishoprics, and at last
to the rank of cardinal in 1511. Fie was created by
Pope Leo X. px-ince of the state of Nepi. He wrote
a comedy entitled “ Virginia,” and some other poems
which were much applauded by his contempories.
He died at Rome in 1532. ,
ACCOMMODATION, the application of one
thing, by analogy, to another 3 or the making two or
more things agree with one another.
To know a thing by accommodation, is to know it
by the idea of a similar thing referi*ed thereto.
A prophecy of scripture is said to be fulfilled various
ways 3 properly, as when a thing foretold comes to
pass 3 and improperly, or by way of accommodation,
when an event happens to any place or people, like to
what fell out some time before to another.—Thus, the
words of Isaiah, spoken to those of his own time, are
said to be fulfilled in those who lived in our Savioux*’s 5
and are accommodated to them : “ Ye hypocrites, well
did Esaias prophesy of you,” &c. which same words
St Paul afterwards accommodates to the Jews of his
time.
The primitive church accommodated multitudes of
Jewish, and even heathen cex*emonies and practices, to
Christian purposes 3 but the Jews had before done the
same by the Gentiles : some will even have cixxumci-
sion, the tabernacle, brazen serpent, &c. to have been
originally of Egyptian use, and only accommodated by
Moses to the purposes of Judaism *. Spencer main-*
tains, that most of the rites of the old law were in imi-
tation of those of the Gentiles, and particularly of the tom' u
Egyptians ; that Ged, in order to divert the children
of Israel from the worship they paid to their false dei¬
ties, consecrated the greatest part of the cex-emonies
pe rformed by those idolaters, and had formed out of them
a body of the ceremonial law3 that he had indeed made
some alterations therein, as barriers against idolatry j
and that he thus accommodated his worship to the ge¬
nius and occasions of his ancient people. To this con¬
descension of God, according to Spencer f, is owing the ^ It gib.
origin of the tabernacle, and particularly that of the Heir.di»M\
ark. These opinions, however, have been controverted!* 3* P* 3J-
by later writers.
ACCOMPANIMENT, something attending or
added as a circumstance to another, either by way of
ornament, or for the sake of symmetry.
Accompaniment, Accompagnamento, Accom-
PAGNAtura, in Music, denotes the instruments which
accompany a voice, in order to sustain it, as well as to
make the music moi*e full. The accompaniment is used
in recitative, as well as in song 5 on the stage, as well
as in the choir, &c. The ancients had likewise their
accompaniments in the theatre 3 they had even differ¬
ent kinds of instruments to accompany the chorus, from
those which accompanied the actors in the recitation.
The
ACC [ 128 ] ACC
Accompa- The accompaniment, among the moderns, is frequent-
niment ly a different part or melody from the song it accom-
11 panics. It is disputed whether it was so among the
. Accords. anc]ents> it is generally alleged, that their accompa¬
niments went no farther than the playing in octave, or
in antiphony to the voice. The Abbe Fraguier, from
a passage in Plato, pretends to prove, that they had ac¬
tual symphony, or music in parts : but his arguments
seem far from being conclusive.
Accompaniment, in Painting, denotes such objects
as are added, either by way of ornament or fitness to
the principal figures j as dogs, guns, game, &c. in a
hunting piece.
Accompaniment, in Heraldry, any thing added to
a shield by way of ornament •, as the belt, mantling,
supporters, &c. It is also applied to several hearings
about a principal one $ as a saltier, bend, fess, chev¬
ron, &c.
ACCOMPLICE, one that has a hand in a business ;
or is privy in the same design or crime with another.
See Accessory.
By the law of Scotland, the accomplice can only be
prosecuted after the conviction of the principal offender,
unless the accession of the accomplice is immediate,
in ipso actu, (so as in effect to render them co-principal.
By the general rule, the accomplice suffers the same pu¬
nishment with the principal ofi'ender ; vet if he be re¬
markably less guilty, justice will not permit equal pu¬
nishment.
The council of Sens, and several other synodical sta¬
tutes, expi-essly prohibit the revealing of accomplices.
ACCOMPLISHMENT, the entire execution or
fulfilling of any thing.
Accomplishment is principally used in speaking
of events foretold by the Jewish prophets in the Old
Testament, and fulfilled under the New. We say a
literal accomplishment, a mystical or spiritual accom¬
plishment, a single accomplishment, a double accom¬
plishment, a Jewish accomplishment, a Christian, a hea¬
then accomplishment. The same prophecy is some¬
times accomplished in all, or in several of those differ¬
ent wrays. Thus, of some of the prophecies of the
Old Testament, the Jews find a literal accomplishment
in their own history, about the time when the prophe¬
cy was given : the Christians find another in Christ,
or the earliest days of the church j the heathens ano¬
ther, in some of their emperors •, the Mahometans ano¬
ther, in their legislator, &c. There are two principal
ways of accomplishing a prophecy, directly, and by ac¬
commodation. See Accommodation, and Prophe¬
cy.
Accomplishment, is also used for any mental or
personal endowment.
ACCORD, in Painting, is the harmony that reigns
among the lights and shades of a picture.
ACCORDS, Stephen Tabourot, seigneur des,
advocate in the parliament of Dijon in France, and
king’s advocate in the bailiwick and chancery of that
city, was born in 1549. He was a man of genius and
learning; but too much addicted to trifles, as appears
from his piece entitled, “ Les Bigarrures,” printed at
Paris in 1582. This was not his first production, for
be had before printed some sonnets. His work entitled
I^es Touches, was published at Paris in 1585; which
is indeed a collection of witty poems, but worked up in
3
a loose manner, according to the licentious taste of Accords,
that age. His Bigarrures are written in the same Accorso,
strain. He,was censured for this way of writing, ^ 4
which obliged him to publish an apology. The lord-
ship of Accords is an imaginary fief, or title from the
device of his ancestors, which was a drum, with the
motto a tons accords, “ chiming with all.” He had
sent a sonnet to a daughter of M. Begat, the great
and learned president of Burgundy, “ who (says he)
did me the honour to love me : And inasmuch (con¬
tinues he), I had subscribed my sonnet with only my
device a tons accords, this lady first nicknamed me, in
her answer, Seigneur des Accords ; by which title her
father also called me several times. For this reason I
chose this surname, not only in all my writings com¬
posed at that time, but even in these books.” He died
in 1595, in the 46th year of his age.
ACCORSO (in Latin Accursius'), Francis, the
elder, an eminent lawyer, was born at Bagnolo, near
Florence, in 1182. He began the study of law at a
late period of life ; but such were his assiduity and
proficiency, that he soon distinguished himself. He
was appointed professor at Bologna, and became a very
eminent teacher. He undertook the great work of
uniting and arranging into one body the almost end¬
less comments and remarks upon the Code, the Insti¬
tutes, and Digests, which, he observed, only tended to
involve the subjects in obscurity and contradiction.
When he was employed in this work, it is said, that
hearing of a similar one proposed and begun by Odo-
fred, another lawyer of Bologna, he feigned indispo¬
sition, interrupted his public lectures, and shut himself
Up, till he had, with the utmost expedition, accomplish¬
ed his design. His work, entitled “ A Perpetual
Commentary,” was much esteemed. It was printed
with the “ Body of Law,” published at Lyons in
1627. Tfe 1260, and left very great riches.
His son, the younger Francis Accorso, succeeded him
in his professorship, and accompanied Edward I. to
England, on his return from the crusade in 1237.
(Gen. Blog.).
Accorso, Mariangelo, a learned and ingenious
critic, was a native of Aquila, in the kingdom of
Naples, and lived about the beginning of the six¬
teenth century. To a perfect knowledge of Greek
and Latin, he added an intimate acquaintance with
several modern languages. Classical literature was
much improved and promoted by his labours. In
discovering and collating ancient manuscripts he dis¬
played uncommon assiduity and diligence. His work,
entitled “ Diatribce,” printed at Rome, in folio, in
1524, is a singular monument of erudition and cri¬
tical skill. He bestowed, it is said, unusual pains
on Claudian, and made above seven hundred correc¬
tions in the works of that poet, from different manu¬
scripts. Unfortunately the world has been deprived
ol the advantage of these criticisms ; for they were
never published. These corrections were made while
he travelled on horseback during a tour through Ger¬
many, a circumstance which is strongly characteristic
of his industry and assiduity. An edition of Ammia-
nus Marcellinus, which he published at Augsburg in
1533, contains five books more than any former one.
He wras the first editor of the “ Letters of Cassiodo-
rus,” with his “ Treatise on the Soul.” The affected
use
. - - >
ACC [ 129 ] ACC
Accorso use antiquated terms introduced by some of the
|| Latin writers of that age, is humorously ridiculed
Accretion. jn a dialogue published in 1531, entitled, “ Osco, Vol-
1 sco, Romanoque, E/oquentia, Interlocutoribus, Dialogus
Links Romanis actus. He composed a book on the
invention of printing. On the first leaf of a grammar
of Donatus, printed on vellum, there is written with
his own hand : “ This Donatus, with another book
entitled Confessionalia” Avere the first books printed j
and John Faustus, citizen of Mentz, inventor of the
art, had put them to the press in the year 1450.”
He had been accused of plagiarism in his notes on
Ausonius $ and the solemn and determined manner in
which he repelled this charge of literary theft, presents
us with a singular instance of his anxiety and care to
preserve his literary reputation unstained and pure.
It is in the following oath : “ In the name of gods
and men, of truth and sincerity, I solemnly swear, and
if any declaration be more binding than an oath, I in
that form declare, and I desire that my declaration
may be received as strictly true, that 1 have never
read or seen any author, from which my own lucubra¬
tions have received the smallest assistance or improve¬
ment j nay, that I have even laboured, as far as pos¬
sible, whenever any writer has published any observa¬
tions which I myself had before made, immediately to
blot them out of my own works. If in this declara¬
tion I am forsworn, may the pope punish my perjury ;
and may an evil genius attend my writings, so that
whatever in them is good, or at least tolerable, may
appear to the unskilful multitude exceedingly bad, and
even to the learned trivial and contemptible $ and may
the small reputation I now possess be given to the winds,
and regarded as the worthless boon of vulgar levity.”
{Gen. Biog.')
ACCOUNT, or Accompt, in a general sense, a
computation or reckoning of any thing by numbers.—
Collectively it is used to express the books which mer¬
chants, traders, bankers, &c. use for recording their
transactions in business. See Book-keeping.
Chamber of Accounts, in the French polity, a sove¬
reign court of great antiquity, which took cognizance
nf and registered the accounts of the king’s revenue}
nearly the same with the Ijnglish Court of Exchequer.
Account is taken sometimes, in a particular sense,
for the computation of time : thus we say, the Julian
account, the Gregorian account, &c. in which sense it
is equivalent to style.
ACCOUNTANT ', or Accomptant, in the most ge¬
neral sense, is a person skilled in accounts. In a more
restricted sense, it is applied to a person, or officer, ap¬
pointed to keep the accounts of a public company or
office: as the South Sea, the India Company, the Bank,
ihc Excise (fee#
ACCOUNTANTSHIP, the art of keeping and
balancing accounts. See Book-keeping.
ACC.OL N fAN'l-general, a new officer in the
court of chancery, appointed by act of parliament to re¬
ceive all moneys lodged in court instead of the masters,
and convey the same to the bank of England for security.
ACCOUTREMENT, an old term applied to the
furniture of a soldier, knight, or gentleman.
ACCRETION, in Physics, the increase or growth
of an organical body, by the accession of new parts.
See Nutrition, Plants, and Vegetables.
Vol. I. Part I. +
Accretion, among civilians, the property acquired Accmka
in a vague or unoccupied thing, by its adhering to or H
following another already occupied : thus, if a legacy
be left to two persons, one of whom dies before the 1
testator, the legacy devolves to the survivor by right of
accretion.
ACCROCHE, in Heraldry, denotes a thing’s being
hooked with another.
ACCUBATION, a posture of the body, between
sitting and lying. The word comes from the Latin ac-
cubare, compounded of ad, to, and cubo, I lie down.
Accubation, or Accubitus, was the table posture of the
Greeks and Romans $ whence we find the words parti¬
cularly used for the lying, or rather (as we call it)
sitting down to meat. The Greeks introduced this
posture. The Romans, during the frugal ages of the
republic, were strangers to it; but as luxury got foot¬
ing, this posture came to be adopted, at least by the
men ; for as to women, it was reputed an indecency in
them to lie down among the men : though, afterwards,
this too was got over. Children did not lie down, nor
servants, nor soldiers, nor persons of meaner condition.
They took their meals sitting, as a posture less indul¬
gent. The Roman manner of disposing themselves at
table was this : A low round table was placed in the
cccnaculum, or dining room, and, about this, usually
three, sometimes only two, beds or couches; and ac¬
cording to their number, it was called biclinium or tri¬
clinium. These were covered with a sort of bedclothes,
richer or plainer according to the quality of the per¬
son, and furnished with quilts and pillows, that the
guests might lie the more commodiously. There were
usually three persons on each bed ; to crowd more, was
esteemed sordid. In eating, they lay down on their
left sides, with their heads resting on the pillow's, or
rather on their elbows. The first lay at the head of
the bed, with his feet extended behind the back of the
second ; the second lay with the back of his head to-
wai’ds the navel of the first, only separated by a pillow,
his feet behind the back of the third ; and so of the
third or fourth. The middle place was esteemed the
most honourable. Before they came to table, they
changed their clothes, putting on what they called cce-
natoria vestis, the dining garment; and pulled olf their
shoes, to prevent soiling the couch.
ACCUBITOR, an ancient officer of the emperors
of Constantinople, whose business was to lie near the
emperor. He was the head of the youth of the bed¬
chamber, and had the cuhicidarius and procubitor un¬
der him.
ACCUMULATION, in a general sense, the act of
heaping or amassing things together. Among lawyers,
it is used in speaking of the concurrence of several titles
to the same thing, or of several circumstances to the
same proof.
Accumulation of Degrees, in a university, is the
taking several of them together, or at shorter intervals
than usual, or than is allowed by the rules of the uni¬
versity.
ACCURSED, something that lies under a curse, or
sentence of excommunication.
In the Jewish idiom, accursed and crucified were sy¬
nonymous. Among them, every one was accounted
accursed who died on a tree. This serves to explain
the difficult passage in Rom. ix. 3. where the apostle
R ' Paul
ACC [ 130 ] ACE
Accursed Paul wished himself accursed after the manner of Christ,
1} i. e. crucified, if happily he might by such a death save
Accusative, j^g countrymen. The proposition utto here made use
of, is used in the same sense, 2 Tim. i. 3. where it ob¬
viously signifies after the manner of.
ACCUSATION, the charging any person with a
criminal action, either in one’s own name, or in that
of the public. The word is compounded of ad, to ;
and causari to plead.
Writers on politics treat of the benefit and the in¬
conveniences of public accusations. Various argu¬
ments are alleged, both for the encouragement and
discouragement of accusations against great men. No¬
thing, according to Machiavel, tends more to the pre¬
servation of a state, than frequent accusations of per¬
sons trusted with the administration of public affairs.
This, accordingly, was strictly observed by the Ho¬
mans, in the instances of Camillus, accused of corrup¬
tion by Manlius Capitolinus, &c. Accusations, how¬
ever, in the judgment of the same author, are not more
beneficial than calumnies are pernicious ; which is also
confirmed by the practice of the Romans. Manlius not
being able to make good his charge against Camillus,
was cast into prison.
By the Roman law, there was no public accuser for
public crimes; every private person, whether interested
in the crime or not, might accuse, and prosecute the
accused to punishment or absolution. Cato, the most
innocent person of his age, had been accused 42 times,
and as often absolved. But the accusation of -private
crimes was never received but from the mouths of
those who were immediately interested in them : None
(e. gi) but the husband could accuse his wife of adul-
te,T-
The ancient Roman lawyers distinguished between
postulatio, delutio, and accusatio. For, first, leave was
desired to bring a charge against one, which was called
postulare : then he against whom the charge was laid
was brought before the judge ; which was called de-
ferre, or nominis delatio: lastly, the charge was drawn
up and presented ; which was properly the accusatio.
The accusation properly commenced, according to Poe-
dianus, when the reus or party charged, being inter¬
rogated, denied he wras guilty of the crime, and subscrib¬
ed his name to the delatio made by his opponent.
In the French law, none but the procureur general,
or his deputies, can form an accusation, except for high
ti’eason and coining, where accusation is open to every
body. In other crimes, private persons can only act
the part of denouncers, and demand reparation for the
oft’ence, with damages.
In Britain, by Magna Charta, no man shall be im¬
prisoned or condemned on any accusation, without trial
by his peers, or the law; none shall be vexed with any
accusation, but according to the law of the land ; and
no man may be molested by petition to the king, &c.
unless it be by indictment or presentment of lawful men,
or by process at common law. Promoters of sugges¬
tions, are to find surety to pursue them ; and if they do
not make them good, shall pay damages to the party
accused, and also a fine to the king. No person is
obliged to answer upon oath to a question whereby he
may accuse himself of any crime.
ACCUSATIVE, in Latin Grammar, is the fourth
case of nouns, and signifies the relation of the noun Aceu'atirs
on which the action implied in the verb terminates ; ||
and hence, in such languages as have cases, these nouns Acepha-
have a particular termination, called accusative, as, , *ous‘
Augustus vicit Antonium, Augustus vanquished An¬
tony. Here Antonium is the noun on which the ac¬
tion implied in the wmrd vicit terminates; and, there¬
fore, must have the accusative termination. Ovid, speak¬
ing of the palace of the sun, says, Materiem superabat
opus, The work surpassed the materials. Here mate¬
riem has the accusative termination ; because it deter¬
mines the action of the verb superabat.—In the English
language there are no cases, except the genitive; the
relation of the noun being shown by the assistance of
prepositions, as of, to, from, &c.
ACCUSIORUM Colonia, in Ancient Geography,
an inland town in the Cavares, in Gallia Narbonensis;
now Grenoble, in Dauphine. See GrenoSlE.
ACE, among gamesters, a card or die marked only
with one point.
ACELDAMA, in Scripture history, a place with¬
out the south wall of Jerusalem, beyond the brook of
Siloam, was called the Potters field, because clay of
which pots were made was dug out of it. It was af¬
terwards bought with the money with which the high
priests and rulers of the Jew's purchased the blood of
Jesus Christ, and hence it was called Aceldama, the
field of blood.
ACELUM, or Acelium, in Ancient Geography, a
town of the Venetian territory, now called A-zolo, si¬
tuated to the west of Trevigi, at the source of the ri¬
vulet Musone. E. Long. 130. N. Lat. 450.
ACENTETUM, or Acanteta, in Natural HL
story, a name given by the ancients to the purest and
finest kind of rock crystal: They used the crystal
in many ways ; sometimes engraving on it, and some¬
times forming it into vases and cups, which were held
next in value to the vasa murrhina of those times.
The crystal they obtained from the island of Cyprus
was much esteemed ; but often faulty in particular
parts, having hairs, cracks, and foulnesses, which they
called salts, in the middle of the lax-ge pieces. Pliny
tells us, that when it was used for engraving on, the
artist could conceal all these blemishes among the
strokes of his work; but when it was to be formed
into cups or precious vases, they always chose the
acentetum which had no flaws or blemishes.
ACEPHALI, or Acephalit^e, a term applied to
several sects who refused to follow some noted leader.
Thus the persons who refused to follow either John of
Antioch, or St Cyril, in a dispute that happened in the
council of Ephesus, were termed Acephali, without a
head or leader. Such bishops, also, as were exempt
from the jurisdiction and discipline of their patriarch,
were styled Acephali.
Acephali, the levellers in the reign of King Hen¬
ry I. who acknowledged no head or superior. They
were reckoned so poor, that they had not a tenement
by which they might acknowledge a superior lord.
ACEPHALOUS, or Acephalus, in a general
sense ; without a head.
The term is more particularly used in speaking of
certain nations, or people, represented by ancient na¬
turalists and cosmographers, as well as by some modem
travellers,
A C E [i
Acephalous travellers-, as formed without heads 5 their eyes, mouth,
|| <&c. being placed in other parts.
Acerra. Such are the Blemmyes, a nation of Africa near the
bead of the Niger, represented to be by Pliny and So-
linus $ Blemmyes traduntur capita abesse, ore et ocvlis
pectore ajfixis. Ctesias and Solinus mention others in
India near the Ganges, sine cervice, oculos in humeris
habentes. Mela also speaks of people, qnibus capita et
vultus in pectore sunt. And Suidas, Stephanus Byzan-
tinus, \ opiscus, and others after them, relate the like.
Some modern travellers still pretend to find acephalous
people in America.
Several opinions have been framed as to the origin
of the fable of the Acephali. The first is that of Tho¬
mas Bartholin, who turns the whole into a metaphor ;
being convinced, that the name Acephali was anciently
given to such as had less brain, or conducted them¬
selves less by the rules of prudence than others. Ole-
arius rather apprehends, that the ancient voyagers,
viewing certain barbarous people from the coasts, had
been imposed on by their uncouth dress; for that
the Samogitians, being short of stature, and going in
the severity of winter with their heads covered in
hoods,.seem at a distance as if they were headless. F.
Lafitau says, that by Acephali are only meant people
whose heads are sunk below’ their shoulders. In ef¬
fect, Hulsius, in his epitome of Sir Walter Raleigh’s
voyage to Guiana, also speaks of a people which that
traveller found in the province of Irvipanama, betw’een
the lakes of Panama and Cassipa, who had no head or
I* Descripl.neck ; and Hondius, in his map, marks the place with
inur. lib. t|ie hgUres of these monsters. Yet De Laet * rejects
m. c. 2z. j.jie story ^ being informed by others, that the inha¬
bitants of the banks of the Caora, a river that flows
out of the lake of Cassipa, have their heads so far sunk
between their shoulders, that many believed they had
their eyes in their shoulders, and their mouths in their
breasts.
But though the existence of a nation of Acephali be
ill warranted, naturalists furnish several instances of
individuals born without heads, bv some lusus or devia-
In Eph. tion of nature. Wepfer gives f a catalogue of such
jrer. dec. r.acephalous births, from Schenckius, Licetus, Parseus,
^<M>.°i34 Wolfius, Mauriceau, &c.
Jec. 2. Acephalus, an obsolete term for the tsenia or
ia* 9- tape-worm, which was long supposed to be acephalous,
ijset. 14S. The first who gave it a head was Tulpius: and after
' him, Fehr : The former even makes it biceps, or two-
headed.
Acephalus, is also used to express a verge defective
in the beginning.
ACER, the Maple, or Sycamore Tree. See
Botany Index.
ACERB, a sour rough astringency of taste, such as
that of unripe fruit.
ACERINA, in Ichthyology, a name given by Pliny
and other of the old naturalists, to the fish we at this
time call the ruffe. See Perca, Ichthyology Index.
ACERNO, in Geography, a town of Italy, in the
citerior principality of Naples, with a bishop’s see. It
is situated 12 miles north-east of Saluno, in E. Long.
15. 46. N. Lat. 40. 45.
ACERRA, in antiquity, an altar erected among
the Romans, near the bed of a person deceased, on
which his friends daily offered incense till his burial.—
3*
] ACE
The real intention probably was to overcome any of- Aetna
fensive smell that might arise about the corpse. The (|
Chinese have still a custom like this : they erect an al- Aeetabo-
tar to the deceased in a room hung with mourning ; *uni* ,
and place an image of the dead person on the altar, to
which every one that approaches it bows four times,
and offers oblations and perfumes.
The acerra also signified a little pot wherein were
put the incense and perfumes to be burnt on the altars
of the gods and before the dead. It appears to have
been the same with what was otherwise called thuribu*
lum, and pyxis.
We find mention of acerree in the ancient church.
The Jews had also their acerree, in our version render¬
ed censers ; and the Romanists still retain them under
the name of incense pots. In Roman writers, we fre¬
quently meet with plena acerra, a full acerra: to un¬
derstand which, it is to be observed, that people were
obliged to offer incense in proportion to their estate and
condition ; the rich in larger quantities, the poor only
a few grains *, the former poured out full acerree on the
altar, the latter took out two or three bits with their
fingers.
Acerra, a town of Italy, in the kingdom of Na¬
ples, and in the Terra di Lavoro ; seated on the river
Agno, seven milts north-east of Naples. E.Long. 14.
30. N. Lat. 40. 55. ^
ACERRj®, in Ancient Geography, the name of a
town on the Clanius, in Campania, not far from
Naples; now Acerra.—The name also of another
town, now called la Girola, in the territory and to
the south-east of Lodi, where the rivulet Serio falls
into the Adda, to the west of Cremona and north of
Placentia.
ACES1NES, in Ancient Geography, a large and
rapid river of India which Alexander passed in his ex¬
pedition into that counti'y. The kingdom of Porus,
which was conquered by Alexander, lay between the
Hydaspes and this river, which, uniting with the for¬
mer and other considerable rivers, pours its u’aters into
the Indus. According to Major Rennell, the modern
Jenaub is the Acesines of the ancients.
ACESIUS, a bishop of Constantinople in the reign
of Constantine, tvas a rigid adherent to the Novatian
doctrines, according to which those whom persecutions
had shaken from the faith, or who were guilty of any
mortal sin after baptism, could not be admitted to the
communion of the church, even after exhibiting the
most convincing proofs of sincere repentance. Constan¬
tine, who was extremely displeased with the severity of
this rigid sect, in discouraging and rejecting repentance,
is said to have thus expressed himself: “ Then, Ace-
sius, make a ladder for yourself, and go up to heaven
alone.” (Gen. Biog.)
ACESCENT, a word used to denote any thing
which is turning sour, or which is slightly acid. It is
only applied properly to the former of these two mean¬
ings. The second may be expressed by either of the
two words, acidulous or sub-acid.
ACETABULUM, in antiquity, a measure used by
the ancients, equal to one-eighth of our pint. It seems
to have acquired its name from a vessel in which ace-
tum or vinegar was brought to their tables, and winch
probably contained about this quantity.
Acetabulum, in Anatomy, a cavity in any bone
R 2 for
A C H [ 132 j A C H
Acetalu- for receiving the px-otuberant head of another, and
Inm thereby forming that species of articulation called En-
Achisans ARTHR0S1S-
c i‘Llt J_, Acetabulum, in Botany, the trivial name of a spe¬
cies of the peziza, or cup peziza, a genus belonging to
the cryptogamia fungi of Linnaeus. It has got the
name of acetabulum, from the resemblance its leaves
bear to a cup. See Peziza, Botany Index.
ACET ARY. Grew, in his anatomy of plants, ap¬
plies this term to a pulpy substance, in certain fruits,
e. g. the pear, which is enclosed in a congeries of
small calculous bodies towards the base of the fruit,
and is always of an acid taste.
ACETOSA, Sofrelj by Linnaeus joined to the
genus Rttmex. See Botany Index.
ACETOSELLA, in Botany, a species of Oxalis.
See Botany Index.
ACETOUS, an epithet applied to such substances
as are sour, or partake of the nature of vinegar.
ACETUM, Vinegar, the vegetable acid of the
chemists. See Acetous Acid, Chemistry Index.
ACHABYTUS, in Ancient Geographi/, a high moun¬
tain in Rhodes, on the top of which stood a temple of
Jupiter.
ACHtEA, in Ancient Geography, a town of the
island of Rhodes, in the district of Jalysus, and the first
and most ancient of all, said to be built by the Heli-
ades, or grandsons of the sun.
Acme a, a hamlet of Asiatic Sarmatia, on the Euxine.
The inhabitants were called Achcei, a colony of the
Orchomenians.
ACHiEANS, the inhabitants of Achaia Propria,
a Peloponnesian state. This republic was not consi¬
derable, -in early times, for the number of its troops,
nor for its wealth, nor for the extent of its territories}
but it was famed for its probity, its justice, and its
iove of liberty. Its high reputation for these virtues
was very ancient. The Crotonians and Sybarites, to
re-establish order in their towns, adopted the laws and
customs of the Achaeans. After the famoks battle of
Leuctra, a difference arose betwixt the Lacedemonians
and Thebans, who held the virtue of this people in
such veneration, that they terminated the dispute by
their decision. The government of the Achaeans was
democrat!cal. They preserved their liberty till the
time of Philip and Alexander: But in the reign of
these princes, and afterwards, they were either subject
to the Macedonians, who bad made themselves masters
of Greece, or oppressed by cruel tyrants. The Achaean
commonwealth consisted of twelve inconsiderable towns
in Peloponnesus. Its first annals are not marked by any
great action, for they are not graced with one eminent
character. Alter the death of Alexander, this little
republic was a prey to all the evils which How from po¬
litical discord. Zeal for the good of the community
was now extinguished. Each town was only attentive
to its private interest. There was no longer any stabi¬
lity in the state; for it changed its masters with every
revolution in Macedonia. Towards the 124th Olym¬
piad, about the time when Ptolemy Soter died, and
when Pyrrhus invaded Italy, the republic of the A-
choeans recovered its old institutions and unanimity.
The inhabitants of Patras and of Dymoe were the first
assertors of ancient liberty. The tyrants were banish¬
ed, and the towns again made one commonwealth.
A public council was then held, in which affairs of AcliKans
importance were discussed and determined. A register (1
was appointed to record the transactions of the conn- Achaia.
cil. This assembly had tw’o presidents, who were no- ““"V™—■“
minated alternately by the different towms. But in¬
stead of two presidents, they soon elected but one. Many
neighbouring towns which admired the constitution
of this republic, founded on equality, liberty, the love
of justice, and of the public good, were incorporated
with the Achaeans, and admitted to the full enjoyment
of their laws and privileges.—The arms which the
Aehaeans chiefly used vvex-e slings. They were trained
to the art from their infancy, by slinging from a great
distance,at a circular mark of a moderate circumference.
By long practice they took so nice an aim, that they
were sure, not only to hit their enemies on the head,
but on any part of the face they chose. Their slings
were of a different kind from those of the Balearians,
whom they far surpassed in dexterity.
ACHJEI, Ach^eans, the inhabitants of Achaia
Propria. In Livy, the people of Greece j for the most
part called Achivi, by the Roman poets. In Homer,
the general name for Grecians. See AcHjEANS.
ACHZEORUM PORTUS, (Pliny) ; now Bortu Buon,
a harbour of the Chersonesus Taurica, on the Euxine:
Another near Sigoeum, into which the Xanthus, after
being joined by the Simois, falls.
ACHyEMENES, according to Herodotus, was
grandfather ot Cambyses, and great-grandfather of
Cyrus the first, king of Persia. Most of the commen¬
tators of Horace are of opinion, that the Achsemenes
whom that poet mentions, ode xii. of his 2d book, was
one of the Persian monarehs ; but, if that were true,
he must have reigned before the Medes subdued the
Persians for we do not hear of any king of that name
from the time that the Persians founded that great mo¬
narchy, which is looked upon as the second universal
one. However this be, the epithet Acluemenians is
frequently given to the Persians, in the old Latin
poets.
Acidemenes, son of Darius I. king of Persia, and
brother of Xerxes, had the government of Egypt be¬
stowed on him, after Xerxes had forced the Egyptians
to return to their allegiance. He some time after com¬
manded the Egyptian fleet in the celebrated expedition
which proved so fatal to all Greece. The Egyptians
having again taken up anus after the death of Xerxes,
Achaemenes was sent into Egypt to suppress the rebel¬
lion j but was vanquished by Inarus, chief of the rebels,
succouied by the Athenians.
ACH/EUS, cousin-german to Seleucus Ceraunus
and Antiochus the Great, kings of Syria, became a
very powerful monarch, and enjoyed the dominions he
had usurped for many years 5 but at last he was punish¬
ed for his usurpations in a dreadful manner, in the
140th year of Rome, as related by Polybius*. * ^
ACHAIA, a name taken for that "part of Greece cap. s6.
which Ptolemy calls Hellas', the younger Pliny, Gree-.
cia; now called Livadta: bounded on the north by
Thessaly, the liver Sperchius, the Sinus Maliacus, and
Mount Geta 5 on the west by the river Achelous 5 on
the east, turning a little to the north, it is washed by
the Archipelago, down to the promontory of Sunium j
on the south, joined to Peloponnesus, or the Morea, by
the isthmus of Corinth, five miles broad.
Achj/a
A C H [i
I-Iiata Achaia Propria, anciently a small district in the
h north of Pelojionnesus, running westward along the bay
Vcheen. of Corinth, and hounded on the west by the Ionian sea,
v"”—^ on the south by Elis and Arcadia, and on the east by
Sicyonia: inhabitants the Achcrans, properly so called ;
its metropolis Patrte. It is now called Romania Alta,
in the Morea.
Achaia was also taken for all those countries that
joined in the Achaean league, reduced by the-Romans
to a province. Likewise for Peloponnesus.
Achaije Presbyteri, or the Presbyters of Achaia,
were those who were present at the martyrdom of St
Andrew the apostle, A. D. 59 ; and are said to have
written an epistle in relation to it. Bellarmin, and se¬
veral other eminent writers in the church of Rome, al¬
low it to be genuine ; while Du Pin, and some others,
expressly reject it.
ACHAIUS, son of Ethwin, was raised to the
crown of Scotland, A. D. 788. The emperor Char¬
lemagne sent an embassy to this prince, to request an
alliance with him against the English, whose pirates so
infested the seas, that the merchants could not.carry on
their trade. The alliance was concluded in France,
upon conditions so advantageous to the Scots, that
Achaius, to perpetuate the memory of it, added to the
arms of Scotland a double field sowed with lilies. He
died in 819.
ACHALALACTLI, a species of king’s-fisher.
See Alcedo, Ornithology Index.
ACHAN, the son of Carmi, of the tribe of Judah,
at the taking of Jericho, concealed two hundred shekels
of silver, a Babylonish garment, and a wedge of gold,
contrary to the express command of .God. This sin
proved fatal to the Israelites, who were repulsed at the
siege of Ai. In this dreadful exigence, Joshua prostra¬
ted himself before the Lord, and begged that he would
have mercy upon his people. Achan was discovered
by casting lots, and he and his children were stoned
to death. This expiation being made, Ai was taken
by stratagem. Josh. vii. 8, 9.
ACHANE, an ancient Persian corn measure, con¬
taining 45 Attic medimni.
ACHARACA, anciently a town of Lydia, situated
between Tralles and Nysa j in which ■were the temple
of Pluto and the cave Charonium, where patients slept
in order to obtain a cux-e.
ACHAT, in Law, implies a purchase or bargain.
And hence probably purveyors were called achutors,
from their making bargains.
ACHATES, the companion of /Eneas, and his most
faithful friend, celebrated in V irgil.
Achates, in Natural History, the same as Agate.
Achates, in AncieyJ, Geography, a river of Sicily,
now the Drillo ; which runs from north to south, al¬
most parallel with, and at no great distance from, the
Gela; and rises in the north of the territory of Noto.
It gave name to the achates, or agate, said to be first
found there.
ACHAZIB, or Achzib, in Ancient Geography,
a town of Galilee, in the tribe of Asher, nine miles
from Ptolemais.—Also a town in the more southern
parts of tlie tribe of Judah.
ACHEEN, Ache', or Achen, a kingdom of Su¬
matra in the East Indies, situated in the north-western
part of the island..
3 1 A C H
1 lie capital is situated on a river which empties it- Acheen.
self near the north-west point, or Acheen head, about —y—
two miles from the mouth. It lies in a wide valley,
formed like an amphitheatre by two lofty ranges of hills.
1 he river is not large, and by emptying itself in several
channels is rendered very shallow at the bar. In the
dry monsoon, it will not admit boats of any burthen,
much less large vessels, which lie without, in the road
formed by the islands off the point. Though no longer
the great mart of eastern commodities, it still carries
on a considerable trade with the natives of that part of
the coast of Indostan called Tellinga, who supply it with
the cotton goods of their country, and receive in re¬
turn, gold dust, sapan wood, betel nut, patch-leaf, a
little pepper, sulphur, camphire, and benzoin. The
country is supplied with Bengal opium, and also with
iron, and many other articles of merchandise, by the
European traders.
Acheen is esteemed comparatively healthy, being
more free from woods and swamps than most other por¬
tions of the island ; and the fevers and dysenteries to
which these are supposed to give occasion, are there
said to be uncommon. The soil is light and fertile 5
and the products, beside those already enumerated as
articles of export trade, and a variety of fine fruits, are
chiefly rice and cotton. There is likewise some raw
silk procured in the country, of very inferior quality.
Gold dust is collected in the mountains near Acheen,
but the greatest part is brought from the southern ports
of Nalaboo and Soosoo. The sulphur is gathered from
a volcanic mountain in the neighbourhood, which sup-;
plies' their own consumption for the manufacture of
gunpowder, and admits of a large exportation.
In their persons, the Achenese differ from the rest of
the Sumatrans, being taller, stouter, and darker com-
plexioned. They appear not to be a genuine people 5 but
are thought, with great appearance of reason, to be a
mixture of Battas, Malays, and Moors from the west of
India. In their dispositions they are more active and
industrious than their neighbours: they possess more
penetration and sagacity j have more general know¬
ledge 5 and, as merchants, they deal upon a more ex¬
tensive and liberal footing. Their religion is Mahome¬
tanism ; and having a great number of mosques and
priests, its forms and ceremonies are strictly observed.
The appearance of the town, and the nature of the
buildings, are much the same as are found in the ge¬
nerality of Malay bazars, excepting that the superior
wealth of this place has occasioned a great number
of public edifices, but without the smallest pretensions
to magnificence. The king’s palace, if it deserves the
appellation, is a very rude and uncouth piece of archi¬
tecture, designed to resist the force of an enemy, and
surrounded for that purpose by strong walls, but with¬
out any regular plan, or view to the modern system of
military attack. The houses in common are built of
bamboos and rough timber, and raised some feet from
the ground on account of the place being overflowed
in the rainy season.
A considerable fabric of a thick species of cotton
cloth, and of stuff for the short drawers worn both by
Malays and Achenese, is established here, and supplies
an extensive demand. They weave also very handsome
silk pieces of a particular form, for that part of the
dress which is called by the Malays caycn serrong.
The,
A C H C 134 ] A C H
The Achenese are expert and bold navigators, and
employ a variety of vessels, according to the voyages
they undertake, and the purposes for which they design
them. The river is covered with a multitude of fishing
samprns or canoes, which go to sea with the morning
breeze, and return in the afternoon, with the sea wind,
fully laden.
Having no convenient coins, though most species of
money will be taken here at a valuation, they common¬
ly make their payments in gold dust, and for that pur¬
pose are all provided with scales or small steelyards.
They carry their gold about them, wrapped up in
pieces of bladder, and often purchase to so small an a-
mount, as to make use of grains or seeds for weights.
The monarchy is hereditary ; and the king usually
maintains a guard of too sepoys about his palace.
According to Mr Marsden, “ the grand council
of the nation consists of the king or saltan, four
oolooballangs, and eight of a lower degree, who sit
on his right hand, and sixteen cajoorangs, who s:t
on his left. At the king’s feet sits a woman, to
whom he makes known his pleasure: by her it is
communicated to an eunuch, who sits next to her ;
and by him to an officer named cajoorang ganderg,
who then proclaims it aloud to the assembly. There
are also present two other officers, one of whom
has the government of the bazai' or market, and the
other the superintending and carrying into execution
the punishment of criminals. All matters relative to
commerce and the customs of the port come under the
jurisdiction of the skabandar, who performs the cere¬
mony of giving the chap or license for trade ; which
is done by lifting a golden-hafted creese over the head
of the merchant who arrives, and without which he
dares not to land his goods. Presents, the value of
which are become pretty regularly ascertained, are then
sent to the king and his officers. If the stranger be in
the style of an ambassador, the royal elephants are sent
down to carry him and his letters to the monarch’s
presence 5 these being first delivered into the hands of
an eunuch, W'bo places them in a silver dish, covered
with rich silk, on the back of the largest elephant,
which is provided with a machine {Jwuder) for that
purpose. Within about an hundred yards of an open
hall where the king sits, the cavalcade stops, and the
ambassador dismounts, and makes his obeisance by bend¬
ing his body, and lifting his joined hands to his head.
When he enters the palace, if an European, he is
obliged to take off his shoes 5 and having made a se¬
cond obeisance, is seated upon a carpet on the floor,
where betel is brought to him. The throne was some
years ago of ivory and tortoiseshell; and when the place
was governed by queens, a curtain of gauze was hung
betore it, which did not obstruct the audience, but pre¬
vented any perfect view. The stranger, after some ge¬
neral discourse, is then conducted to a separate build¬
ing, where he is entertained with the delicacies of the
country by the officers of state, and in the evening re¬
turns in the manner he came, surrounded by a prodi¬
gious number of lights. On high days {aree ryaJi) the
king goes in great state, mounted on an elephant richly
caparisoned, to the great mosque, preceded by his 00/00-
ballangs,vi\\o are armed nearly in the European manner.”
The country under the immediate jurisdiction of
A-cheen, is divided into three districts, named Dug-
2
pooloo duo, Dvo-pooloo leemo, and Duopooloo anam.
Each district is governed by a panglecmo, and under
him an imaum and four pangeechcs to each mosque.
“ Acheen has ever been remarkable for the severity
with which crimes are punished by their laws : the
same rigour still subsists, and there is no commutation
admitted, as is regularly established in the southern
countries. There is great reason, however, to conclude,
that the poor alone experience the rod of justice 5 the
nobles being secure from retribution in the number of
their dependants. Petty theft is punished by suspend¬
ing the criminal from a tree, with a gun or heavy
weight tied to his feet 5 or by cutting off a finger, a
hand, or leg, according to the nature of the theft.
Many of these mutilated and wretched objects are daily
to be seen in the streets. Robbery on the highway and
house-breaking are punished by drowning, and after¬
wards exposing the body on a stake for a lew days. If
the robbery is committed upon an imaum or priest, the
sacrilege is expiated by burning the criminal alive. A
man who is convicted of adultery is seldom attempted
to be screened by his friends, but is delivered up to the
friends and relations of the injured husband. These
take him to some large plain, and forming themselves
in a circle, place him in the middle. A large weapon
called a gadaobong, is then delivered to him by one of
his family ; and if he can force his way through those
who surround him, and make his escape, he is not li¬
able to further prosecution } but it commonly happens
that he is instantly cut to pieces. In this case his rela¬
tions bury him as they would a dead buffalo, refusing
to admit the corpse into their house, or to perform any
funeral rites.” These discouragements to vice might
seem to bespeak a moral and virtuous people : yet all
travellers agree in representing the Achenese as one of
the most dishonest and flagitious nations of the East.
Acheen was visited by the Portuguese in 1509. They
made various attempts to establish themselves in the
country, but were expelled with disgrace. The state
is exposed to frequent convulsions, and in 1805 the
prince was obliged to desert his capital. See Sumatra*
ACHELOUS, in fabulous history, wrestled with
Hercules, for no less a prize than Heianira, daughter
of King Oeneus : but as Achelous had the power of as¬
suming all shapes, the contest was long dubious : at last
as he took that of a bull, Hercules tore off one of his
horns; so that he was forced to submit, and to redeem
it by giving the conqueror the horn of Amalthea, the
same with the cornucopise or horn of plenty ; which
Hercules having filled with a variety of fruits, conse¬
crated to Jupiter. Some explain this fable, by saying,
That Achelous is a winding river of Greece, whose
stream was so rapid, that it roared like a bull, and over¬
flowed its hanks 5 but Hercules, by bringing it into
two channels, broke off one of the horns, and so restor¬
ed plenty to the country. See the next article.
Achelous, a river of Acarnania *, which rises in
Mount Pindus, and, dividing rEtolia fiom Acarnania,
falls from north to south into the Sinus Corinthiacus.
It was iormerly called Thoas from its impetuosity, and
ktrsc of rivers (Homer). The epithet Achehius is
Aeheen,
Achelous.
used {ox Aqueus, (Mirgil) \ the ancients calling all wa¬
ter Achelous, especially in oaths, vows, and sacrifices,
according to Ephorus : Now called Aspro Potcuno.
Rivers are by the ancient poets called Tatcrformes,
either
A C H
[ 135 ]
A C H
either from the bellowing of their waters, or from their
ploughing the earth in their course: Hercules, re¬
straining by dykes and mounds the inundations of the
Achelous, is said to have broken oft' one of his horns,
and to have brought back plenty to the country. See
the preceding article.
ACHERI, Luke d’, a learned Benedictine of the
congregation of St Maur, was born at St Quintin, in
Picardy, in 1609 ; and made himself famous by print¬
ing several works, which till then were only in manu¬
script : particularly, the epistle attributed to St Bar¬
nabas; the works of Lanfranc, archbishop of Canter¬
bury ; a collection of scarce and curious pieces, under
the title of Spicilegium, i. e. Gleanings, in thirteen vo¬
lumes, quarto. The prefaces and notes, which he an¬
nexed to many of these pieces, show him to have been
a man of genius and abilities. He had also some share
in the pieces inserted in the first volumes of The Acts of
the Saints of the order of St Benedict ; the title where¬
of acquaints us that they were collected and published
by him and Father Mabillon. After a very retired life,
till the age of 73, he died at Paris the 29th of April
1685, in the abbey of St Germain in the Fields, where
he had been librarian.
ACHERNEIi, or Acharner, a star of the first
magnitude in the southern extremity of the constella¬
tion Eridanus, but invisible in our latitude.
ACHERON, in mythology, a river of Epirus. The
poets feigned it to have been the son of Ceres, whom
she hid in hell for fear of the Titans, and turned into
a river, over which souls departed were ferried in their
way to Elysium.
Acheron, in Ancient Geography, a river of Thes-
protia, in Epirus 5 which, after forming the lake Ache-
rusia, at no great distance from the promontory of Chi-
merium, falls into the sea to the west of the Sinus Am-
bracius, in a course from north to south.
Acheron, or Acheros, a river of the Bruttii in
Italy, running from east to west 5 where Alexander
king of Epirus was slain by the Lucani, being deceived
by the oracle of Dodona, which bade him beware of
Acheron.
ACHARSET, an ancient measure of corn, conjec¬
tured to be the same with our quarter, or eight bushels.
ACHERUSIA palus, a lake between Cumae and
the promontory Misenum, now il Lago della Colhtcia.
(Cluverius). Some confound it with the LacusLucri-
nus, and others with the Lacus Averni. But Strabo
and Pliny distinguish them. The former takes it to be
an effusion, exundation, or washes of the sea, and there¬
fore called byLycophrcn, A-gr^vs-ia. %vTig.—Also a lake
of Epirus, through which tbe Acheron runs.—There
is also an Acherusia, a peninsula of Bithynia on the
Euxine, near Heraclea; and a cave there of the same
name, through which Hercules is fabled to have de¬
scended to hell to drag forth Cerberus.
ACHIAR, is a Malayan word, which signifies all
sorts of fruits and roots pickled with vinegar and spice.
The Hutch import from Batavia all sorts of achiar, but
particularly that of Bamboo, a kind of cane, extreme¬
ly thick, which grows in the East Indies. It is pre¬
served there, whilst it is still green, with very strong
vinegar and spice ; and is called bamboo achiar. The
name changes according to the fruit with which the
achiar is made.
ACHICOLUM, is used to express the fornix, tho- Aclilcoluni
lus, or sudatorium of the ancient baths : which was a ||
hot room w'here they used to sweat. It is also called A chilli ni.
architholus. l”"‘ v f
ACHILLiEA, Yarrow, Milfoil, Nosebleed,
or Sneezewort. See Botany Index.
ACHILLEID, AchillEIS, a celebrated poem of
Statius, in which that author proposed to deliver the
whole life and exploits of Achilles ; but being prevent¬
ed by death, he has only treated of the infancy and
education of his hero. See Statius.
ACHILLES, one of the greatest heroes of ancient
Greece, was the son of Peleus and Thetis. He was
a native of Phthia, in Thessaly7. His mother, it is said,
in order to consume every mortal part of his body, used
to lay him every night under live coals, anointing him
with ambrosia, which preserved every part from burn¬
ing but one of his lips, owing to his having licked it.
She dipped him also in the waters of the river Styx j
by which his whole body became invulnerable, except
that part of his heel by which she held him. But this
opinion is not universal, nor is it a part of his cha¬
racter as drawn by Homer 5 for in the Iliad (B. xxi.
161.) he is actually wounded in the right arm, by the
lance of Asteropeus, in the battle near the river Sca-
mander. Thetis afterwards intrusted him to the care of
the centaur Chiron, who, to give him the strength ne¬
cessary for martial toil, fed him with honey and the
marrow of lions and wild boars. To prevent his going
to the siege of Troy, she disguised him in female appa¬
rel, and hid him among the maidens at the court of
King Lycomedes : but Ulysses discovering him, per¬
suaded him to follow the Greeks. Achilles distinguish¬
ed himself by a number of heroic actions at the siege.
Being disgusted, however, with Agamemnon for the
loss of Briseis, he retired from the camp. But return¬
ing to avenge the death of his friend Patroclus, he slew
Hector, fastened his corpse to his chariot, and dragged
it round the walls of Troy. At last Paris, the brother
of Hector, wounded him in the heel with an arrow7,
while he was in the temple treating about his marriage
with Philoxena, daughter of King Priam. Of this
wound he died, and w7as interred on the promontory of
Sigaeum: and after Troy was taken, the Greeks sacri¬
ficed Philoxena on his tomb, in obedience to his desire,
that he might enjoy her company in the Elysian fields.
It is s^id, that Alexander, seeing this tomb, honoured
it by placing a crown upon it; at the same time cry¬
ing out, that “ Achilles was happy in having, during
his life, such a friend as Patroclus ; and, after his death,
a poet like Homer.” Achilles is supposed to have
died 1183 years before the Christian era.
Achilles Tatius. See Tatius.
Tetido Achillis, in Anatomy, is a strong tendinous
cord formed by the tendons of several muscles, and in¬
serted into the os calcis. It has its name from the fa¬
tal wound Achilles is said to have received in that part
from Paris the son of Priam.
ACHILLINI, Alexander, born at Bologna, and
doctor of philosophy in that university. He flourished
in the 15th and 16th centuries, and by way of emi¬
nence was styled the Great Philosopher. He was a
stedfast follower and accurate interpreter of Averroes
upon Aristotle, but most admired for his acuteness and
strength of arguing in private and public disputations.
He,
A C H [ 136 ] A C H
Aclnllini He made a surprising quick progress in iiis studies, and
11 was Very early promoted to a professorship in the uni-
Achmet, vergity j in which he acquitted himself with so much
applause that his name became famous throughout all
Italy. He continued at Bologna till the year 15065
tvhen the university of Padua made choice of him to
succeed Antonio Francatiano in the first chair of phi¬
losophy, and his fame brought vast numbers of students
to his lectures at Padua : but the war, wherein the re¬
public of Venice was engaged against the league of
Cambray, putting a stop to the lectures of that univer¬
sity, he withdrew to his native country, where he was
received with the same marks of honour and distinction
as before, and again appointed professor of philosophy
in Bologna. He spent the remainder of his life in this
city, where he died, and was interred with great pomp
in the church of St Martin the Great, which belongs
to the Carmelite friars. Jovius, who knew Achillini,
tuid heard his lectures, says, that lie was a man of such
exceeding simplicity, and so unacquainted with address
and flattery, that he was a laughing stock to the pert
and saucy young scholars, although esteemed on ac¬
count of his learning. He wrote several pieces on phi¬
losophical subjects, which he published, and dedicated
to John Bentivogli.
Achillini, Claudius, grandson of the former, read
lectures at Bologna, Ferrara, and Parma ; where he
was reputed a great philosopher, a learned divine, an
excellent lawyer, an eloquent orator, a good mathe¬
matician, and an elegant poet. He accompanied Car¬
dinal Ludovino, who went as legate into Piedmont j
but being afterward neglected by this cardinal, when he
became pope under the name of Gregory XV. he left
Rome in disgust, and retired to Parma 5 where the
duke appointed him professor of law, with a good sa¬
lary. A canzone which he addressed to Louis XIII.
on the birth of the dauphin, is said to have been re¬
warded by Cardinal Richlieu, with a gold chain of
the value of 1000 crowns. He published a volume of
Latin letters, and another of Italian poems, which
gained him great reputation. He died in 1640, aged 66.
ACHIQTTE, or Achiotl, a foreign drug, used
in dying and in the preparation of chocolate. It is
the same with the substance more usually known by the
name of Arnotto. See Bixa, Botany Index.
ACHIROPOETOS, a name given by ancient writ¬
ers to certain miraculous pictures of Christ and the
Virgin, supposed to have been made without hands.—
The most celebrated of these is the picture of Christ,
preserved in the church of St John Lateran at Rome 5
said to have been begun by St Luke, but finished by
the ministry of angels.
ACHMET, son of Seerim, an Arabian author,
has left a book concerning the interpretation of dreams
according to the doctrine of the Indians, Persians, and
Egyptians, which was translated into Greek and La¬
tin. The original is now lost. He lived about the
4th century.
Achmet I. emperor of the Turks, the third son and
successor of Mahomet HI. ascended the throne before
he reached the age of fifteen. During the period of
his reign, the Turkish empire enjoyed at one time great
prosperity, and at another was depressed with adversity.
The Asiatic rebels, who took refuge in Persia, involv¬
ed the two empires in a war, during which the Turks
3
lost Bagdad, to recover which every effort proved un- ^c’amel
successful. In his reign Transylvania and Hungary
were the scenes of war between the Turks and Germans.
In addition to the calamities and distresses of war a-
broad and internal tumults and broils, a pretender to his
throne disturbed his repose, and made attempts on his
life. He was much devoted to amusements j and spent
his time chiefly in the haram and in the sports of the
field. His seraglio consisted of 3000 women j and
his hunting establishment was composed of 40,000 fal¬
coners, and an equal number of huntsmen, in different
parts of his dominions. He expended great sums of
money in building, and particularly on a magnificent
mosque which he erected in the Hippodrome. Ach¬
met was less cruel than some of his predecessors j but
he was haughty and ambitious. He died in 1617 at
the age of 29. His three sons successively ascended the
throne after him. (Gc/z. Biogi)
Achmet II. emperor of the Turks, son of Sultan
Ibrahim, succeeded his brother Solyman in 1691. The
administration of affairs during his reign was feeble and
unsettled. The Ottoman territory was overrun by
the imperialists 5 the Venetians seized the Morea, took
the isle of Chios, and several places in Dalmatia, and
the Arabs attacked and plundered a caravan of pilgrims,
and even laid siege to Mecca. Though he never discover¬
ed the vigour and sagacity that are essentially requisite
in the character of a sovereign, in private life he was
mild, devout, and inoffensive. He was fond of poetry
and music. 5 and to those about his person, he was cheer¬
ful and amiable. He died in 1695 at the age of 50.
Achmet III. emperor of the Turks, son of Maho¬
met IV. succeeded his brother Mustapha II. who was
deposed in 1703. After he had settled the discontents
of the empire, his great object was to amass wealth. $
With this view he debased the coin, and imposed new
taxes. He received Charles XII. of Sweden, who
took refuge in his dominions, after the battle of Pul-
towa in 1709, with great hospitality 5 and, influenced
by the sultana mother, he declared war against the Czar
Peter, Charles’s formidable rival. Achmet recovered
the Morea from the Venetians 5 but his expedition in¬
to Hungary was less fortunate, for his army was de¬
feated by Prince Eugene at the battle of Peterwara-
din in 1716. As the public measures of Achmet were
influenced by ministers and favourites, the empire du¬
ring his reign was frequently distracted by political
struggles and revolutions. The discontent and sedi¬
tion of his soldiers at last drove him from the throne.
He was deposed in 1730, and succeeded by his ne¬
phew Mahomet V. He was confined in the same
apartment which had been occupied by his successor
previous to his elevation to the throne, and died of an
apoplexy in 1736, at the age of 74. The intentions
ot this prince, it is said, were upright; but his talents
were moderate, never discovering that vigour of mind
and steadiness ol action which are so necessary in the
character of a sovereign. Excessive confidence in
his vizier diminished the splendour of his reign, and
probably tended to shorten the period of it. (Gen.
Biog.)
ACHMET Geduc, a famous general under Ma¬
homet II. and Bajazet II. in the 15th century. When
Mahomet II. died, Bajazet and Zezan both claimed
the throne : Acbmet sided with the former, and by his
bravery
A C H [i
A.chmet bravery and conduct fixed the crown on his head. But
|| Bajazet took away his life ; shining virtue being always
Achniim. an unpardonable crime in the eyes of a tyrant.
v ACHMETSCHET, a town of the peninsula of
the Crimea, the residence of the sultan Galga, who is
eldest son of the khan of Tartary. E. Long. 52. 20.
N. Lat. 45. 35.
ACHMIM, a large town of Upper Egypt, situated
on the eastern bank of the Nile. ‘ One admires there
(says Abulfeda, as quoted by M. Savary) a temple
which is comparable to the most celebrated monuments
of antiquity. It is constructed with stones of a surpris¬
ing size, on which are sculptured innumerable figures.’
Though this town be fallen from its ancient splendour,
it is still one of the most beautiful of Upper Egypt.
According to M. Savary, an Arab prince commands
there, and the police is well attended to. The streets
are wide and clean, and commerce and agriculture flou¬
rish. It has a manufacture of cotton stuffs, and pot¬
tery, which are conveyed over all Egypt. It is the
same that Herodotus calls Chemmis, and Strabo Pano-
polis, or the city of Pan, who was worshipped there.
Herodotus says, that Perseus was a native of this city,
» and that his descendants had established festivals there
in his honour. It has lost its ancient edifices, and much
of its extent 5 the ruins of the temple, described by
Abulfeda, being without its limits to the north. No¬
thing remains of it but some stones, of such magnitude
that the Turks have not been able to move them. They
are covered with hieroglyphics. On one of them are
traced four concentric circles, in a square. The inner¬
most of these contains a sun. The two succeeding ones,
divided into 12 parts, contain, one, 12 birds, the other,
12 animals, almost effaced, which appear to be the signs
of the zodiac. The fourth has no divisions, and pre¬
sents 12 human figures : which M. Savary imagines to
represent the 12 gods, the 12 months of the year, and
the 12 signs of the zodiac. The Egyptians, says He¬
rodotus, were the first who divided the year into 12
months, and employed the names of the 12 gods. The
four seasons occupy the angles of the square, on the
side of which may be distinguished a globe with wings.
M. Savary thinks it probable that this stone belonged
to a temple dedicated to the sun, that the whole of
these hieroglyphics mark his passage into the signs of
the zodiac, and his course, wdiose revolution forms the
year. The columns of this temple have been partly
broken to make lime and oiillstones. Some of them
bave been transported into one of the mosques of Ach-
mim, where they are placed without taste $ others are
heaped up in the squares of the town.
M. Savary tells us of a serpent which is worshipped
here, and is the wonder of the country. “ Upwards
of a century ago (says he) a religious Turk called
Sheilk Hat'idi died here. He passed for a saint among
the Mahometans ; who raised a monument to him, co¬
vered with a cupola, at the foot of the mountain. The
people flocked from all parts to offer up their prayers
to him. One of their priests, profiting by their credu¬
lity, persuaded them that God had made the soul of
Scheilk Haridi pass into the body of a serpent. Many
of these are found in the Thebais, which are harm¬
less ; and he had taught one to obey his voice. He
appeared with his serpent, dazzled the vulgar by his
surprising tricks, and pretended to cure all disorders.
Vol. I. Part I. +
37 ] A C H
Some lucky instances of success, due to nature alone, Acltmim
and sometimes to the imagination of the patients, gave ||
him great celebrity. He soon consigned his serpent Achroma-
Haridi to the tomb, producing him only to oblige , tlc' r
princes and persons capable of giving him a handsome
recompense. The successors of this priest, brought up
in the same principles, found no difficulty in giving
sanction to so advantageous an error. They added to
the general persuasion of his virtue that of his immor¬
tality. They had the boldness even to make a public
proot of it. The serpent was cut in pieces in presence
of the emir, and placed for two hours under a vase.
At the instant of lifting up the vase, the priests, no
doubt, had the address to substitute one exactly resem¬
bling it. A miracle was proclaimed, and the immor¬
tal Haridi acquired a fresh degree of consideration.
This knavery procures them great advantages. The
people flock from all quarters to pray at this tomb ;
and if the serpent crawls out from under the stone, and
approaches the suppliant, it is a sign that his malady
will be cured. It may be imagined that he does not
appear till an offering has been made proportioned to
the quality and riches of the different persons. In ex¬
traordinary cases, where the sick persons cannot be cu¬
red without the presence of the serpent, a pure virgin
must come to solicit him. To avoid inconveniences
on this head, they take care to choose a very young
girl indeed. She is decked out in her best clothes,
and crowned with flowers. She puts herself in a pray¬
ing attitude j and as the priests are inclined, the ser¬
pent comes out, makes circles round the young sup¬
pliant, and goes and reposes on her. The virgin, ac¬
companied by a vast multitude, carries him in triumph
amidst the general acclamation. No human reasoning
would persuade these ignorant and credulous Egyptians
that they are the dupes of a few7 impostors ; they be¬
lieve in the serpent Haridi as firmly as in the prophet.”
E. Long. 31. 55. N. Lat. 26. 40.
ACHONRY, a small town of Ireland, in the pro¬
vince of Connaught and county of Sligo, seated on the
river Shannon.
ACHOR, a valley of Jericho, lying along the river
Jordan, not far from Gilgal 5 so called from Achan, the
troubler of Israel, being there stoned to death.
Achor, in Medicine, a species of Herpes.
Achor, in Mythology, the god of flies j to whom, ac¬
cording to Pliny, the inhabitants of Cyrene sacrificed,
- in order to obtain deliverance from the insects and the
disorders occasioned by them.
ACHRADINA, in Ancient Geography, one of the
four cities or divisions of Syracuse, and the strongest,
largest, and most beautiful part of it 5 separated by a
very strong wall from the outer town, Tycha and Nea-
polis. It was adorned with a very large forum, with
beautiful porticoes, a most elegant prytaneum, a spa¬
cious senate-house, and a superb temple of Jupiter O-
lympius.
ACHRAS, or Sapota Plum. See Botany In¬
dex.
ACHROMATIC, an epithet expressing want of co¬
lour. The word is Greek, being compounded of «c pri¬
vative, and -g^ufAx, colour. This term was first introdu¬
ced into astronomy by De la Lande.
Achromatic Telescopes, are telescopes contrived to
remedy the aberrations in colours. They were invent-
S d
A C I
t
Actoomavic ed by Mr John Dollond, optician, and have been since
II improved by his son and others. See Aberkation.—
Aeidalus. ^ more particular account of the invention and con-
V-"V“— struction of these instruments will he found under Op-
Aeidi.
TICS.
ACHTELING, a measure for liquids used in Ger¬
many. Thirty-two achtelings make a heemer ; four
sciltims or sciltins make an achtding.
ACHYR, a strong town and castle of the Ukrain,
subject to the Russians since 1667. It stands on the
river Uorsklo, near the frontiers of Russia, 127 miles
west of Kiow. E. Eong. 36- Eat. 49. 32,
ACHYRANTHES, in Botany. See Botany
hide
ACICANTHERA, in Botany, the trivial name of
a species of Rhexia.
ACICUEA*,, the small pikes or prickles of the
hedgehog, echinus marinus, &c.
ACID ALIUS, Valens, would, in all probability,
have been one of the greatest critics in these latter
ages, had he lived longer to perfect those talents which
nature had given him. He was born at \\ itstock, in
Brandenburg j and having visited several academies in
Germany, Italy, and other countries, where he was
greatly esteemed, he afterwards took up his residence
at Breslaw, the metropolis of Silesia. Here he remain¬
ed a considerable time, in expectation of some employ¬
ment ; but nothing offering, he turned Roman Catho¬
lic, and was chosen rector of a school at Niessa. It is
related, that about four months after, as he was fol¬
lowing a procession of the host, he was seized with a
sudden phrensy} and being carried home, expired in a
very short time. But Thuanus tells us, that his ex¬
cessive application to study was the occasion of his un¬
timely death j and that his sitting up in the night com¬
posing his Conjectures on Plautus, brought upon him a
distemper which carried him off in three ciays, on the
25th of May 1595, being just turned of 28. He wrote
a Commentary on Quintus Curtius } also, Notes on la-
citus, on the twelve Panegyrics \ besides speeches, let¬
ters, and poems. His poetical pieces are inserted in
the Delici# of the German poets, and consist of epic
verses, odes, and epigrams. A little work printed in
159 5, under the title of Mulieres non es.se homines,
“ That women were not of the human species,” was
falsely ascribed to him. But the fact was, that Acida-
lius happening to meet wuth the manuscript, and think¬
ing it very whimsical, transcribed it, and gave it to the
bookseller, who printed it. The performance was
highly censured, so that the bookseller being seized, he
discovered the person who gave him the manuscript,
and a terrible outcry was made against Acidalius. A
story goes, that being one day to dine at a friend’s
house, there happened to be several ladies at table j
who supposing him to be the author, were moved with
so much indignation, that they threatened to. throw
their plates at his head. Acidalius, however, ingeni¬
ously diverted their wrath. In his opinion, he said, the
author was a judicious person, the ladies being certainly
more of the species of angels than of men.—Mr Baillet
has given him a place among VisEnfans Celehres ; and
says, that he wrote a comment upon Plautus when he
was but 17 or 18 years old, and that he composed se¬
veral Latin poems at the same age.
ACID ALUS, a fountain in Orchomenus, a city of
2
38 ] ACT'
Boeotia, in which the Graces, who are sacred to Venus, Acidah;
bathed. Hence the epithet Acidalia, given to Venus,
(Virgil.) . x,
ACIDITY, that quality which renders bodies acid.
ACIDOTON, in Botany, the trivial name of a spe¬
cies of Adelia.
ACIDS, in Chemistry, a class of substances which
are distinguished by the following properties.
1. When applied to the tongue, they excite that sen¬
sation which is called semr or acid.
2. They change the blue colours of vegetables to a
red. The vegetable blues employed for this purpose
are generally tincture of litmus and syrup of violets or
of radishes, which have obtained the name of reagents
or tests. If these colours have been previously con¬
verted to a green by alkalies, the acids restore them
again.
3. They unite with water in almost any proportion.
4. They combine with all the alkalies, and most of
the metallic oxides and earths, and form with them
those compounds which are called salts.
It must be remarked, however, that every acid does
not possess all these properties } but all of them possess
a sufficient number of them to distinguish them from
other substances. And this is the only purpose which
artificial definition is meant to answer.
The acids are by far the most important class of bo¬
dies in chemistry. It was by their means indeed, by
studying their properties, and by employing them as
instruments in the examination of other bodies, that
men of science laid the foundation of chemistry, and
brought it to that state in which we find it at present.
The nature and composition of acids, therefore, be¬
came a very important point of discussion, and occu¬
pied the attention of the most eminent cultivators of
the science.
Paracelsus believed that there was only one acid
principle in nature, which communicated taste and so¬
lubility to the bodies in which it was combined.
Beecher embraced the same opinion ; and added to it,
that this acid principle was a compound of earth and
water, which he considered as two elements. Stahl
adopted the theory of Beecher, and endeavoured to
prove that his acid principle is sulphuric acid j of
which, according to him, all the other acids are mere
compounds. But his proofs were only conjectures or
vague experiments, from which nothing could be de¬
duced. Nevertheless, his opinion, like every other
which he advanced in chemistry, continued to have
supporters for a long time, and was even countenanced
by Macquer. At last its defects began to be perceiv¬
ed ; Bergman and Scheele declared openly against it 5
and their discoveries, together with those of Lavoisier,
demonstrated the falsehood of both parts of the theory,
by shewing that sulphuric acid does not exist in the
other acids, and that it is not composed of water and
earth, but of sulphur and oxygen.
The opinion, however, that acidity is owing to some
principle common to all the salts, vras not abandoned.
Wallerius, Meyer, and Sage, had advanced diflerent
theories in succession about the nature of this prin¬
ciple ; but as they were founded rather on conjecture
and analogy than direct proof, they obtained but few
advocates. At last M. Lavoisier, by a number of in¬
genious and accurate experiments, proved that several
combustible
A C I
Acids, combustible substances, when united with oxygen, form
—V—^ acids ) that a great number of acids contain oxygen j
and that when this principle is separated from them,
they lose their acid properties. He concluded, there¬
fore, that the acidifying principle is oxygen, and that
acids are nothing else but combustible substances com¬
bined with oxygen, and differing from one another ac¬
cording to the nature of the combustible base.
This conclusion, as far as regards the greater num¬
ber of acids, is certainly true. All the simple com¬
bustibles, except hydrogen, are convertible into acids ;
and these acids are composed of oxygen and the com¬
bustible body combined : this is the case also with four
of the metals. It must not, however, be admitted
without some limitation.
1. When it is said that oxygen is the acidifying
principle, it is not meant surely to affirm that oxygen
possesses the properties of an acid, which would be con¬
trary to truth j all that can be meant is, that it enters
as a component part into acids, or that acids contain it
as an essential ingredient.
2. But, even in this sense, the assertion cannot be
admitted: for it is not true that oxygen is an essential
ingredient in all acids, or that no body possesses the
property of an acid unless it contains oxygen. Sulphu¬
rated hydrogen, for instance, possesses all the charac¬
ters of an acid, yet it contains no oxygen.
3. When it is said that oxygen is the acidifying
principle, it cannot be meant surely to affirm that the
combination of oxygen with bodies produces in all
cases an acid, or that whenever a body is combined
with oxygen, the product is an acid} for the contrary
is known to every chemist. Hydrogen, for instance,
when combined with oxygen, forms not an acid, but
water, and the greater number of metallic bodies form
only oxides.
All that can be meant, then, when it is said that
oxygen is the acidifying principle, is merely that it
exists as a component part in the greater number of
acids} and that many acids are formed by combustion,
or by some equivalent process. The truth is, that the
class of acids is altogether arbitrary} formed when the
greater number of the bodies arranged under it were
unknown, and before any precise notion of what ought
to constitute the characteristic marks of an acid had
been thought of. New bodies, when they were disco¬
vered, if they possessed any properties analogous to the
known acids, were referred without scruple to the same
class, how much soever they differed from them in other
particulars. Hence we find, under the head of acids,
bodies which have scarcely a single property in com¬
mon, except that of combining with alkalies and earths.
What substances, for instance, can be more dissimilar
than sulphuric, prussic and uric acids P Hence the dif¬
ficulty of assigning the general characters of the class
of acids, and the disputes which have arisen about the
propriety of classing certain bodies among acids. If
Sve lay it down as an axiom that oxygen is the acidi¬
fying principle, we must either include among acids a
great number of bodies which have not the smallest re¬
semblance to those substances which are at present
reckoned acids, or exclude from the class several bo¬
dies which have the properties of acids in perfection.
The class of acids being perfectly arbitrary, there can-
A C I
not be such a thing as an acidifying principle in the
most extensive sense of the word.
The acids at present known amount to about 30 }
and all of them, eight excepted, have been discovered
within these last 40 years. They may be arranged un¬
der two general heads : 1. Acids composed of two in¬
gredients. 2. Acids composed of more than two com¬
ponent parts. {Thomson's Chemistry.') See Chemis¬
try.
ACIDULOUS, denotes a thing that is slightly
acid: it is synonymous with the word sub-acid.
ACIDULiE. Mineral waters that are brisk and
sparkling without the action of heat are thus named }
but if they are hot also, they are called Thermje.
ACIDULATED, a name given to medicines that
have an acid in their composition.
ACIDUM AEREUM, the same with Jlxed air ; or,
in modern chemistry, carbonic acid.
Acidumpingue, an imaginary acid, which some Ger¬
man chemists supposed to be contained in fire, and by
combining with alkalies, lime, &c. to give them their
caustic properties} an effect which is found certainly
to depend on the loss of their carbonic acid.
ACILA, in Ancient Geography, a staple or mart
town in Arabia Felix, on the Arabian gulf, from which,
according to Pliny, the Scenitse Sabaei set sail for In¬
dia. Now Ziden.
ACILISENE, in Ancient Geography, a district of
the lesser Armenia towards the head of the Euphrates,
having that river on the west, and on the south a river
to which Xenophon and Pliny seem to have given the
same name.
ACILIUS GLABRIO, Marcus, consul in the
year of Rome 562, and 211 years before the Christian
era, distinguished himself by his bravery and conduct
in gaining a complete victory over Antiochus the
Great, king of Syria, at the straits of Thermopylae in
Thessaly, and on several other occasions. He built
the temple of Piety at Rome, in consequence of a
vow which he made before this battle. He is men¬
tioned by Pliny, Valerius Maximus, and others.
ACINASIS, in Ancient Geography, a river of Asia,
at the southern extremity of Colchis, which discharges
itself into the Euxine sea, between the Bathys and the
Isis. It is mentioned by Arrian in his Periplus.
ACINIPPO, in Ancient Geography, a town of Bse-
tica : its rqins, called Honda la Viega, are to be seen
near Arunda, in the kingdom of Granada.
ACINODENDRUM, in Botany, the trivial name
of a species of Melastoma.
ACINOS, in Botany, the trivial name of a species
of Thymus. See Botany Index.
ACINUS, or Acini, the small protuberances of
mulberries, strawberries, &c. and by some applied to
grapes. Generally it is used for those small grains
growing in bunches, after the manner of grapes, as A-
gustrum, &c.
ACIS, in Mythology, the son of Faunus and the
nymph Simaethis, was a beautiful shepherd of Sicily,
who being beloved by Galatea, Polyphemus the giant
was so enraged, that he dashed out his brains against
a rock; after which Galatea turned him into a river,
which w'as called by his name.
The Sicilian authors say, that Acis was a king of
S 2 this
[ 139 ]
Ac; ids
H
Acis.
AGO [ 140 ] AGO
^cis this part of the island, who was slain by Polyphemus,
I', one of the giants of ^tna, in a fit of jealousy.
Aecerneta*. Acts, a river of Sicily, celebrated by the poets, i’un-
v ning from a very cold spring, in the woody and shady
foot of Mount /Etna, for the space of a mile eastward
into the sea, along green and pleasant banks, with the
speed of an arrow, from which it takes its name. Its
waters are now impregnated with sulphureous vapours,
though formerly they were celebrated for their sweet¬
ness and salubrity, and were held sacred by the Sicilian
shepherds:
Quique per JEtnceos Acts petit cequora fines,
Et du lei g rat am Nereida perluit unda. Sil. Ital.
It is now called II Fiume Fredda, Aci, laci, or Chi-
aci, according to the different Sicilian dialects: An-
tonine calls it Actus. It is also the name of a hamlet
at the mouth of the Acis.
ACKERMANN, John C. Gottlieb, an eminent
German medical writer. See Supplement.
ACKNOWLEDGMENT, in a general sense, is a
person’s owning or confessing a thing; but more parti¬
cularly, is the expression of gratitude for a favour.
Acknowledgment-Money, a certain sum paid by
tenants, in several parts of England, on the death of their
landlords, as an acknowledgment of their new lords.
ACLIDES, in Roman antiquity, a kind of missile
weapon, with a thong affixed to it, by which it was
drawn back. Most authors describe it as a sort of dart
or javelin ; but Scaliger makes it roundish or globular,
and full of spikes, with a slender wooden stem to poise
it by. Each warrior was furnished with two.
ACLOWA, in Botany, a barbarous name of a spe¬
cies of Colutea. It is used by the natives of Guinea
to cure the itch : They rub it on the body as we do
unguents. See Colutea, Botany Index.
ACME, the top or height of any thing. It is usu¬
ally applied to the maturity of an animal just before it
begins to decline ; and physicians have used it to ex¬
press the utmost violence or crisis of a disease.
ACME LIA, in Botany, the trivial name of a spe¬
cies of Spilanthus. See Botany Index.
ACM Q DAL, in Ancient Geography, seven islands in
the British sea, supposed by some to be the Scilly islands,
but by others those of Shetland near the Orkneys, on
the northern coast of Scotland.
ACMONI4, and Agmonia, in Peutinger’s map,
a town of Phrygia Major, now in ruins. The inhabi¬
tants are called Acmonenses by Cicero, and the city
Cwitas Acmonensis. Also a city of Dacia (Ptolemy),
on the Danube, near the ruins of Trajan’s bridge, built
by Severus, and called Severicum ; distant 12 German
miles from Temeswar, to the south-east.
ACNIDA, Virginian Hemp. See Botany Index.
ACNUA, in Roman antiquity, signified a certain
measure of land, about an English rood, or fourth part
of an acre.
ACO, in Geography, a town of Peru in South A-
merica. It is abo the name of a river in Africa, which
rises in the Abyssinian mountains, runs in a south-east
course, and discharges itself into the Indian ocean.
ACOEMETAL, or Acoemeti, in church history,
or, Men who lived without sleep ; a set of monks who
chanted the divine service night and day in their places
of worship. They divided themselves into three bo-
3.
dies, who alternately succeeded one another, so that Acccmetst
the service in their churches was never interrupted. |[
This practice they founded upon the pvecep\.,Pray with- Aeoniti.
out ceasing. They flourished in the east about the mid-
die of the 5th century. There are a kind of acoemeti
still subsisting in the Romish church, viz. the religious
of the holy sacrament, who keep up a perpetual ado¬
ration, some one or other of them praying before the
holy sacrament day and night.
ACOLA, in Ancient Geography, a town in Media,
on the borders of the Hyrcanian sea.
ACOLUTHI, or Acoluthists, in antiquity, was
an appellation given to those persons who were steady
and immoveable in their resolutions ; and hence the
Stoics, because they would not forsake their principles,
nor alter their resolutions, acquired the title of acolu-
thi. The word is Greek, and compounded of u, priva¬
tive, and xaAevta;, way ; as never turning from the ori¬
ginal course.
Acoluthi, among the ancient Christians, implied
a peculiar order of the inferior clergy in the Latin
church, for they were unknown to the Greeks for above
400 years. They were next to the subdeacon ; and
we learn from the fourth council of Carthage, that the
archdeacon, at their ordination, put into their hands a
candlestick with a taper, giving them thereby to under¬
stand that they were appointed to light the candles of
the church; as also an empty pitcher, to imply that
they were to furnish wine for the eucharist. Some
think they had another office, that of attending the
bishop wherever he went. The word is Greek, and
compounded of « privative, and xuXvu, to hinder or
disturb.
ACOLYTHIA, in the Greek church, denotes the
office or order of divine service ; or the prayers, cere¬
monies, hymns, &c. whereof the Greek service is com¬
posed.
ACOMA, a town of New Mexico, seated on a hill,
with a strong castle. To reach the town, you walk up
50 steps cut out of the rock. It is the capital of that
province, and was taken by the Spaniards in 1599,
W. Long. 104. 15. Lat. 35. o.
ACOMINATUS, Nicetas, was secretary to A-
lexius Comnenus and to Isaacus Angelus successively:
he wrote a history from the death of Alexius Comnenus
in 1118, where Zonaras ended his, to the year 1203,
which has gone through many editions, and has been
much applauded by the best critics.
ACONCROBA, in Botany, the indigenous name
of a plant which grows wild in Guinea, and is in great
esteem among the natives for its virtues in the small¬
pox. They give an infusion of it in wine. The leaves
of this plant are opaque, and as still' as those of the
philyrea : they grow in pairs, and stand on short foot¬
stalks ; they are small at each end, and broad in the
middle ; and the largest of them are about three inches
in length, and an inch and a quarter in breadth in the
middle. Like those of our bay, they are of a dusky
colour on the upper side, and of a pale green under¬
neath.
ACONITE. See Aconitum, Botany Index.
Winter Aconite. See Helleborus, Botany Index.
ACONITI, in antiquity, an appellation given to
some of the Athlete, but differently interpreted.
Mercurialis understands it of those who only anointed
their
AGO [ ]
their bodies with oil, but did not smear themselves over
with dust, as was the usual practice.
ACONtTUM, Aconite, Wolfsbane, or Monks¬
hood. See Botany Index.
ACONTIAS, in Zoology, an obsolete name of the
anguis jaculus, or dart-snake, belonging to the order
of amphibia serpentes. See Anguis.
ACONTIUM, ecKovhtu, in Grecian antiquity, a kind
of dart or javelin, resembling the Homan pilum.
ACONT1US, a young man of the island Cea, who
having gone to Delos, to see the sacred rites which
were performed there by a crowd of virgins in the
temple of Diana, fell desperately in love with Cydippe j
but not daring to ask her in marriage, on account of
the meanness of his birth, insidiously threw down at her
feet an apple, on which were inscribed these words, Me
tibi nupturam, (felix eat omen?) Aconti, Juro, qnam
colimus, numina magna Dece. Or according to others,
Jnro tibi sacrce per mystica sacra Diancr, Me tibi ven-
tnrani comitem, sponsamque futuram. The virgin hav¬
ing taken up the apple, inadvertently read the words,
and thus apparently bound herself by a promise 5 for
by law, every thing uttered in that temple was held to
be ratified. When her father, a little after, ignorant
of what had happened, betrothed her to another man,
she wras suddenly seized with a fever. Whereupon
Acontius sent her a letter, (expressed by Ovid, Ep. 20.)
to persuade her that her fever was caused by Diana for
not having fulfilled the promise which she had made to
him in the temple of that goddess. Cydippe therefore
resolved to comply with the wishes of Acontius, even
against the inclination of her father. Her answer is
the subject of Ovid’s 21st epistle. (Adam's Clas. Biog.')
Acontius, James, a philosopher, civilian, and di-
vane, born at Trent in the 16th century. He em¬
braced the reformed religion and coming into Eng¬
land in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, he was favour¬
ably received and much honoured by that princess,
which he acknowledges in a book dedicated to her.
This work is his celebrated Collection of the Strata¬
gems of Satan, which has been so often translated, and
passed through so many editions.
ACOHN, the fruit of the oak tree. See Quercus,
Botany Index.
Acorn, in sea language, a little ornamental piece
of wood, fashioned like a cone, and fixed on the upper¬
most point of the spindle, above the vane, on the mast¬
head. It is used to keep the vane from being blown off
from the spindle in a whirlwind, or when the ship leans
much to one side under sail.
ACORUS, Calamus Aromaticus, Sweet Flag,
or Sweet Rush. See Botany Index.
Acorus, in the Materia Medico, a name sometimes
given to the great galangal. See Kempferia.
Acorus, in Natural History, blue coral. The true
sort is very scarce 5 some, however, is fished on the
coasts of Africa, particularly from Rio del Re to the
river of the Camarones. This coral is part of the mer¬
chandise which the Dutch trade for with the Cama
rones : that of the kingdom of Benin is also very much
esteemed. It grows in form of a tree on a rocky bot¬
tom.
ACOSTA, Joseph d’, a celebrated Spanish writer.
See Supplement.
iqosxA, Uriel, a Portuguese, born at Oporto
41 ] AGO
towards the close of the 16th century. He was edu¬
cated in the Romish religion, which his father also
professed, though descended from one of those Jewish fa¬
milies who had been in a manner forced to receive bap¬
tism. Uriel had a liberal education. Fie was instruct¬
ed in several sciences j and at last he studied law. He
had by nature a good temper and mild disposition ; and
religion had made so deep an impression on his mind,
that he ardently desired to conform to all the precepts
of the church, to avoid eternal death, which he dread¬
ed, He applied with great assiduity to reading the
Scriptures and other religious books, carefully consult¬
ing also the creed of the confessors ; but the more he
studied, the more difficulties occurred, which perplexed
him at length to such a degree, that, being unable to
solve them, he fell into the most terrible agonies of
mind. He thought it impossible to fulfil his duty with
regard to the conditions required for absolution ; so
that be despaired of salvation, if he could find no other
means of attaining it j and it proved difficult to aban¬
don a religion in which he had been bred up from his in¬
fancy, and which had been deeply rooted in his mind.
However he began to inquire, whether several parti¬
culars mentioned about the other life were agreeable
to reason ; and, upon inquiry and deliberation, he
imagined that reason suggested many arguments against
them. Acosta was about two and twenty, when he
was thus perplexed with doubts : and the result of his
reflections was, that he could not be saved by the reli¬
gion which he had imbibed in bis infancy. Neverthe¬
less he prosecuted his studies in the law; and at the
age of five and twenty, was made treasurer in a colle¬
giate church. Being naturally of a religious disposi¬
tion, and now made uneasy by the popish doctrines, he
began to study Moses and the prophets j where he
thought he found more satisfaction than in the gospel,
and at length became convinced that Judaism was the
true religion : and, as he could not profess it in Portu¬
gal, he resolved to leave the country. He accordingly
resigned his place, and embarked for Amsterdam with
his mother and brothers ; whom he had ventured to in¬
struct in the principles of the Jewish religion, even
when in Portugal. Soon after their arrival in Amster¬
dam, they became members of the synagogue j were
circumcised according to custom; and he changed his
name of Gabriel for that of Uriel. A little time was
sufficient to shew him, that the Jews did neither in
their rites nor morals conform to the law of Moses, of
which he could not but declare his disapprobation ;
but the chiefs of the synagogue gave him to understand,,
that he must exactly observe their tenets and customs j
and that he would be excommunicated, if he deviated
in tiie least from them. This threat, however, had no
effect j for he thought it would be a most mean beha¬
viour in him, who had left the sweets of his native
country purely for liberty of conscience, to submit to a
set of Rabbis without any proper jurisdiction ; and that
it would shew both want of courage and piety, if he
should stifle his sentiments on this occasion. He there¬
fore persisted in his invectives, and inconsequence was
excommunicated : the effect of which was such, that
his own brothers durst not speak to him, nor salute him
when they met him in the streets. Finding himself
thus situated, he wrote a book in his justification;
wherein he endeavours to shew, that the rites and trar
ditiona
AGO [ 142 ] AGO
Acosta, ditions of tbe Pharisees are contrary to the writings of
—V—; Moses, and soon after adopted the opinion of the Sad-
ducees : for he had worked himself up to a belief, that
the rewards and punishments of the old law relate only
to this life j and this, because Moses nowhere men¬
tions the joys of heaven, or the torments of hell. His
adversaries wrere overjoyed at his embracing this tenet;
foreseeing, that it would tend greatly to justify, in the
sight of Christians, the proceedings of the synagogues
against him. Before his book was printed, there ap¬
peared a piece upon the immortality of the soul, writ¬
ten by a physician, who omitted nothing he could sug¬
gest to make Acosta pass for an atheist. The very
children were encouraged to insult him in the streets,
and to batter his house with stones j all which however
did not prevent him from writing a treatise against the
physician, wherein he endeavoured to confute the doc¬
trine of the soul’s immortality. The Jews now made
application to the magistrates of Amsterdam j and in¬
formed against him, as one who wranted to undermine
the foundation of both Jewish and Christian religions.
He was throwm into prison, but bailed out within a
week or ten days after ; however all the copies of his
works were seized, and he himself fmed in 300 florins.
Nevertheless, he proceeded still farther in his scepti¬
cism. He now began to examine, whether the law of
Moses came from God j and he supposed he had at
length found reasons to convince him, that it was only
a political invention. Yet,*|instead of drawing this in¬
ference from thence, “ I ought not to return to the
Jewish communion,” he thus argued with himself,
Why should I continue all my life cut off from the
communion, exposed to so many inconveniences, espe¬
cially as I am in a country where I am a stranger, and
unacquainted with the language ? Had I not better
play the ape among apes ?” He accordingly return¬
ed to the Jewish church, after he had been excommu¬
nicated 15 years; and, after having made a recanta¬
tion of what he had written, subscribed every thing as
they directed. A few days after, he was accused by
a nephew, who lived in his house, that he did not, as
to his eating and many other points, conform to the
laws of the synagogue. This accusation was attended
with very bad consequences ; for a relation of Acosta,
who had got him reconciled to the synagogue, thought
he wras in honour bound to persecute him with the ut¬
most violence. The Rabbis and the rest of the Jews
were animated with the same spirit; especially, when
they found that Acosta had dissuaded two Christians,
ACOU
who had come from London to Amsterdam, from turn- AcoUx
ing Jews. He was summoned before the grand coun- —y—.
cil of the synagogue ; when it was declared to him,
that he must again be excommunicated, if he did not
give such satisfaction as should be required. He found
the terms so hard, that he could not comply. The
Jews thereupon again expelled him from their commu¬
nion ; and he afterwards suffered various hardships and
great persecutions, even from his own relations. After
remaining seven years in a most wretched situation, he
at length declared he was willing to submit to the sen¬
tence of the synagogue, having been told that he might
easily accommodate matters ; for, that the judges, be¬
ing satisfied with his submission, would soften the seve¬
rity of the discipline. Acosta, however, was caught in
a snare ; for they made him undergo the most rigorous
penance. These particulars relating to the life of
Acosta, are taken from his work, entitled, “ Exemplar '
humanee Vitae” published and refuted by Limborch.
It is supposed that he composed it a few days before
his death, after having determined to lay violent hands
on himself. He executed this horrid resolution a little
after he had failed in his attempt to kill his principal
enemy; for the pistol, with which he intended to have
shot him as he passed his house, having missed fire, he
immediately shut the door, and shot himself with ano¬
ther pistol. This happened at Amsterdam, but in what
year is not exactly known.
ACOSTAN, a mountainous island in the north seas
between Asia and America, observed by Captain Cook,
ACOUSMATICI, sometimes also called Aeousticiy
in Grecian antiquity, such of the disciples of Pytha¬
goras as had not completed their five years probation.
ACOUSTIC, in general, denotes any thing that
relates to the ear, the sense of hearing, or the doctrine
of sounds.
Acoustic Duct, in Anatomy, the same with meatns
auditorius, or the external passage of the ear. See Ana¬
tomy.
Acoustic Instrument, or auricular tube. See Acou¬
stics.
Acoustic Vessels, in the ancient theatres, were a
kind of vessels made of brass, shaped in the bell fashion,
which being of all tones within the pitch of the voice,
or even of instruments, rendered the sound more au¬
dible, so that the actors could be heard through all parts
of theatres which were even 400 feet in diameter.
Acoustic Disciples, among the ancient Pythagoreans,
those more commonly called Acousmatici.
; T I C S,
Pireliminary JN Physics, is that science which instructs us in the
Observa- JL na(-ure 0f sound. It is divided by some writers in-
. ^ ’ . to Diacoustics', which explains the properties of those
sounds that come directly from the sonorous body to the
ear ; and Catacoustics, which treats of reflected sounds:
but such distinctions do not appear to be of any real
utility.
Sound is a term of which it would be preposterous
to offer any definition, as it may almost be said to ex¬
press a simple idea : But when we consider it as a SEN¬
SATION, and still more when we consider it as a per¬
ception, it may not be improper to give a descrip- Preliminarj
tion of it; because this must involve certain relations Obsem-
of external things, and certain trains of events in the 1 11oni' »
material world, which make it a proper object of phi¬
losophical discussion. Sound is that primary informa¬
tion which we get of external things by means of the
sense of hearing. This, however, does not explain it;
for were we in like manner to describe our sense of
hearing, we should find ourselves obliged to say, that it
is the faculty by which we perceive sound. Language*
are not the invention of philosophers; and we must not
expect
A C O U
teliminaryexpect precision, even in the simplest cases. Our me-
Observa- tliods of expressing the information given us by our
tions. difl’erent senses are not similar, as a philosopher, cau-
“ v tiously contriving language, would make them. We
have no word to express the primary or generic object
ofour sense of seeing 5 for we believe, that even the
vulgar consider light as the medium, but not the object.
This is certainly the case (how justly we do not say)
with the philosopher. On the other hand, the words
smell, sound, and perhaps taste, are conceived by most
persons as expressing the immediate objects of the senses
of smelling, hearing, and tasting. Smell and sound are
hastily conceived as separate existences, and as mediums
of information and of intercourse with the odoriferous
and sounding bodies ; and it is only the very cautious
philosopher who distinguishes between the smell which
he feels and the perfume which fills the room. Those
of the ancients, therefore, who taught that sounds were
beings wafted through the air, and felt by our ears,
should not, even at this day, be considered as awkward
observers of nature. It has required the long, patient,
and sagacious consideration of the most penetrating ge¬
niuses, Irom Zeno the Stoic to Sir Isaac Newton, to
discover that what we call sound, the immediate exter¬
nal object of the sense of hearing, is nothing but a par¬
ticular agitation of the parts of surrounding bodies, act¬
ing by mechanical impulse on our organs ; and that it
is not any separate being, nor even a specific quality
inherent in any particular thing, by which it can af¬
fect the organ, as we suppose with respect to a perfume,
but merely a mode of existence competent to every
atom of matter. And thus the description which Ave
proposed to give of sound must be a description of that
state of external contiguous matter which is the cause
of sound. It is not therefore prefatory to any theory
or set of doctrines on this subject: but on the contra¬
ry, is the sum or result of them all.
To discover this state of the external body by Avhich,
without any farther intermedium of substance or of ope¬
ration, it affects our sensitive faculties, must be consi¬
dered as a great step in science. It will show us at
least one way by which mind and body may be con¬
nected. It is supposed that Ave have attained this knoAV-
ledge with respect to sound. Our success, therefore, is
a very pleasing gratification to the philosophic mind.
It is still more important in another view: it has en¬
couraged us to make similar attempts in other cases,
and has supplied us Avith a, fact to Avhich an ingenious
mind can easily fancy something analogous in many ab¬
struse operations of nature, and thus it enables us to
give some sort of explanation of them. Accordingly
this use has been most liberally made of the mechanical
theory of sound ; and there is now scarcely any pheno¬
menon, either of matter or mind, that has not been
explained in a manner somewhat similar. But we are
sorry to say that these explanations have done no credit
to philosophy. They are, for the most part, strongly
marked Ayith that precipitate and self-conceited impa¬
tience which has ahvays characterised the investigations
conducted solely by ingenious fancy. The conse¬
quences of this procedure have been po less fatal to
the progress of true knoAvledge in modern times than
in the schools of ancient Greece; and the ethereal
philosophers of this age, like the followers of Aristotle
of old, have filled ponderous volumes with nonsense -
S T I C S. n3
and error. It is strange, however, that this should be Preliminary
the ellect of a great and successful step in philosophy : Obserya-
But the fault is in the philosophers, not in the science. bens.
Nothing can be more certain than the account which '—  
Newton has given of the propagation of a certain class
of undulations in an elastic fluid. But this procedure
of nature cannot be seen Avith distinctness and precision
by any but well-informed mathematicians. They alone
can rest with unshaken confidence on the conclusions
legitimately deduced from the Newtonian theorems 5
and even they can insure success only by treading Avith
the most scrupulous caution the steps of this patient
philosopher. But feAV have done this j and we may
venture to say, that not one in ten of those who em¬
ploy the NeAytonian doctrines of elastic undulations for
the explanation of other phenomena have taken the
trouble, or indeed were able, to go through the steps
of the fundamental proposition (Prin. II. 50. &c.) But
the general results are so plain, and admit of such im-
pressive illustration, that they drarv the assent of the
most careless reader ; and all imagine that they under¬
stand the explanation, and perceive the whole proce¬
dure of nature. Emboldened therefore by this suc¬
cessful step in philosophy, they, without hesitation,
fancy similar intermediums in other cases ; and as air
has been found to be a vehicle for sound, they have
supposed that something which they call ether, some¬
how resembling air, is the vehicle of vision. Others
have proceeded farther, and have held that ether, or
another something like air, is the vehicle of sensation
in general, from the organ to the brain : nay, we have
got a great volume called A Theory or Man, where
all our sensations, emotions, afiections, thoughts, and
purposes or volitions, are said to be so many vibrations
of another something equally unseen, gratuitous, and
incompetent 5 and to crown all, tins exalted doctrine,
when logically prosecuted, must terminate in the dis¬
covery of those vibrations which pervade all others,
and which constitute Avhat Ave have been accustomed to
venerate by the name Deity. Such must be the ter¬
mination of this philosophy 5 and a truly philosophical
dissertation on the attributes of the Divine Being can
be nothing else than an accurate description of these
\ribrations !
This is not a needless and declamatory rhapsody. If
the explanation of sound can be legitimately transferred
to those other classes of phenomena, these are certain
results ; and if so, all the discoveries made by Neivton
are hut the glimmerings of the morning, Avhen compar¬
ed with this meridian splendour. But if, on the other
hand, sound logic forbids us to make this transference
of explanation, Ave must continue to believe, for a little
while longer, that mind is something different from vi*
brating matter, and that no kind of oscillations will con¬
stitute infinite wisdom.
It is of immense importance therefore to understand
thoroughly this doctrine of sound, that we may see
clearly and precisely in what it consists, what are the
phenomena of sound that are fully explained, Avhat are
the data and the assumptions on Avhich the explanations
proceed, and Avhat is the 'precise mechanical fact in
which it terminates. For this, or a fact perfectly simi¬
lar, must terminate every explanation Avhich we derive
from this by analogy, however perfect the analogy may
be. This previous knoivledge must be completely pos^
sessed.
H4
A C O U
First no
iions of
sound.
Preliminary sessed by every person who pretends to explain other
OIjserTa- phenomena in a similar manner. Then, and not till
tions. then, he is able to say what classes of phenomena will
—“"Y—* a(im;t of the explanation : and, when ail this is done,
his explanation is still an hypothesis, till he is able to
prove, from other indisputable sources, the existence
and agency of the same thing analogous to the elastic
fluid, from which all is borrowed.
At present therefore we shall content ourselves with
giving a short history of the speculations of philosophers
on the nature of sound, tracing out the steps by which
we have arrived at the knowledge which we have of it.
We apprehend this to be of great importance ; be¬
cause it shows us what kind of evidence we have for its
truth, and the paths which we must shun if we wish to
proceed farther : and we trust that the progress which
we have made will appear to be so real, and the ob¬
ject to be attained so alluring to a truly philosophical
mind, that men of genius will be incited to exert their
utmost efforts to pass the present boundaries of our real
progress.
In the infancy of philosophy, sound was held to be
a separate existence, something which would be, al¬
though no hearing animal existed. This was con¬
ceived as wafted through the air to our organ of hear¬
ing, which it was supposed to affect in a manner resem¬
bling that in which our nostrils are affected when they
give us the sensation of smell. It was one of the Pla¬
tonic SPECIES, fitted for exciting the intellectual spe¬
cies, which is the immediate object of the soul’s con¬
templation.
Yet, even in those early years of science, there were
some, and, in particular, the celebrated founder of the
Stoic school, who held that sound, that is, the cause of
sound, was only the particular motion of external gross
matter, propagated to the ear, and there producing that
agitation of the organ by which the soul is immediate-
2eno’s opl-ly affected with the sensation of sound. Zeno, as quot¬
ed by Diogenes Laertius *, says, “ Hearing is pro¬
duced by the air which intervenes between the thing
sounding and the ear. The air is agitated in a spheri¬
cal form, and moves off in waves \ and falls on the ear,
in the same manner as the water in a cistern undulates
in circles when a stone has been thrown into it.” The
ancients were not remarkable tor precision, either of
conception or argument, in their discussions, and they
were contented with a general and vague view of things.
Some followed the Platonic notions, and many the opi¬
nion of Zeno, but without any further attempts to give
a distinct conception of the explanation, or to compare
it with experiment.
But in later times, during the ardent researches in the
last century into the phenomena of nature, this became
an interesting subject of inquiry. The invention of the
air-pump gave the first opportunity of deciding by expe-
*uuu»i ritnent whether the elastic undulations of air were the
ved by^the caugeg 0f sountl : and the trial fully established this
air-pump. p0-nt. for a rung in vacuo gave no sound, and one
rung in condensed air gave a very loud one. It was
therefore received as a doctrine in general physics, that
air was the vehicle of sound.
-oraii.vu » The celebrated Galileo, the parent of mathematical
discovery of philosophy, discovered the nature of that connexion be-
the nature pween the lengths of musical chords and the notes which
&kor3ral theX produced, which had been observed by Pythago¬
nion.
* B. vil
§15*.
Ai» the ve
hide of
sound pro
Galileo’s
S T I C S.
ras, or learned by him in his travels in the east, and Preliminary
which he made the foundation of a refined and beauti- Obsena.
ful science, the theory of music. Galileo showed, that dons,
the real connexion subsisted between the tones and the vr"*J
vibrations of these chords, and that their different degrees
of acuteness corresponded to the different frequency of
their vibrations. The very elementary and familiar de¬
monstration which he gave of this connexion did not sa¬
tisfy the curious mathematicians of that inquisitive age*,
and the mechanical theory of musical chords was prose¬
cuted to a great degree of refinement. In the course of
this investigation, it appeared that the chord vibrated
in a manner precisely similar to a pendulum vibrating
in a cycloid. It must therefore agitate the air con¬
tiguous to it in the same manner j and thus there is a
particular kind of agitation which the air can receive
and maintain, which is very interesting.
Sir Isaac Newton took up this question as worthy of Newton’s
his notice; and endeavoured to ascertain with mathe-tl!eory
matical precision the mechanism of this particular class U1J 11 a 102
of undulations, and gave us the fundamental theorems
concerning the undulations of elastic fluids, which make
the 47th, &c. propositions of Book II. of the Principles
of Natural Philosophy. They have been (perhaps ha¬
stily) considered as giving the fundamental doctrines
concerning the propagation of sound. A variety of corresponds
facts are narrated in the article PNEUMATICS, to show vv'th the
that such undulations actually obtain in the air of our
atmosphere, and are accompanied by a set of phenomena
of sound which precisely correspond to all the mechani¬
cal circumstances of these undulations.
In the mean time, the anatomists and physiologists Researches
were busily employed in examining the structure of our of anato.
organs of hearing. Impressed with the validity of this Busts,
doctrine of aerial undulations being the cause of sound,
their researches were always directed with a view to
discover those circumstances in the structure of the ear
which rendered it an organ susceptible of agitations
from this cause ; and they discovered many which ap¬
peared as contrivances for making it a drum, on which
the aerial undulations from without must make very
forcible impulses, so as to produce very sonorous undu¬
lations in the air contained in it. These therefore they
considered as the immediate objects of sensation, or the
immediate causes of sound.
But some anatomists saw that this would not be a full
account of the matter : for after a drum is agitated, it
has done all that it can do; it has produced a noise.
But a farther process goes on in our ear: There is
behind the membrane, which is the head of this drum,
a curious mechanism, which communicates the agitations
of the membrane (the only thing acted on by the un¬
dulating air) to another chamber of most singular con¬
struction, where the auditory nerve is greatly expanded.
They conceive, therefore, that the organ called theglnicture
drum does not act as a drum, but in some other way. In- of the ear.
deed it seems bad logic to suppose that it acts as a drum
merely by producing a noise. This is in no respect dif¬
ferent from the noise produced out of the ear; and if it
is to be heard as a noise, we must have another ear by
which it may be heard, and this ear must be another
such drum ; and this must have another, and so on for
ever. It is like the inaccurate notion that vision is the
contemplation of the picture on the retina. These ana¬
tomists attended therefore to the structure. Here they
observed
ACOUSTICS.
f the hu-
*n.
•eliminary observed a prodigious unfolding of the auditory nerve
Ibserva- tj,e ear^ wJj;c|, js curiously distributed through every
tI°n8‘ , part of this cavity, lining its sides, hung across it like
a curtain, and sending olF fibres in every direction, so as
to leave hardly a point of it unoccupied. They thought
the machinery contained in the drum peculiarly fitted
for producing undulations of the air contained in this
labyrinth, and that by these agitations of the air the
contiguous fibres of the auditory nerve are impelled,
and that thus we get the sensation of sound.
The cavity intervening between the external ear and
this inner chamber appeared to these anatomists to have
no other use than to allow a very free motion to the
stapes or little piston that is employed to agitate the air
in the labyrinth. This piston condenses on a very small
surface the impulse which it receives from a much lar¬
ger surface, strained by the malleus on the entry of the
tympanum, on purpose to receive the gentle agitations
of the external air in the outer canal. This membra¬
nous surface could not be agitated, unless completely
detached from every thing round it j therefore all ani¬
mals which have this mechanism have it in a cavity
containing only air. But they held, that nature had
even taken precautions to prevent this cavity from act¬
ing as a drum, by making it of such an irregular ram¬
bling form ; for it is by no means a cavity of a symme¬
trical shape, like a vessel, but rather resembles the ram¬
bling holes and blebs which are often seen in a piece of
bread, scattered through the substance of the cranium,
and communicating with each other by small passages.
The whole of these cavernulae are lined with a softish
naembrane, which still farther unfits this cavity for pro¬
ducing sound. This reasoning is specious, but not very
conclusive. We might even assert, that this anfractuous
form, with narrow passages, is well fitted for producing
noise. If we place the ear close to the small hole in
the side of a military drum, we shall hear the smallest
tap of the drumstick like a violent blow. The lining
of the cavernulae is nervous, and may therefore be
strongly affected in the numerous narrow passages be¬
tween the cells.
While these speculations were going on with respect
to the ear of the breathing animals, observations were
occasionally made on other animals, such as reptiles,
serpents, and fishes, which give, undoubted indications
ef hearing j and many very familiar facts were observed
or recollected, where sounds are communicated through
or by means of solid bodies, or by water : therefore,
without inquiring how or by what kind of mechanistn
it is brought about, it became a very general belief
among physiologists, that all fishes, and perhaps all ani¬
mals, hear, and that water in particular is a vehicle j6f
sound. Many experiments are mentioned by Kircher
and others on the communication of sound throi\gh
solid bodies, such as masts, yards, and other long
beams of dry fir, with similar results. Dr Monro has
published a particular account of very curious expe¬
riments on the propagation of sound through water in
his Dissertation on the Physiology of Fishes j so that it
now appears that air is by no means the only vehicle
of sound.
In 1760 Cotuni published his important discovery,
that the labyrinth or inmost cavity of the ear in ani¬
mals is completely filled with water. This, after some
contest, has been completely demonstrated (see in
Vot. I. Parti. f
*45
1 other
umals.
fater dis-
wered in
ie inter-
il ear.
particular Meckel Junior de Labyrinthi Auris Conten- Prcliminaiy
tis, Argentor. I777)> and it seems now to be admitted Observa-
by all. tions.
This being the case, our notions of the immediate v~
cause of sound must undergo a great revolution, and a
new research must be made into the way in which
the nerve is aflected : for it is not enough that we
substitute the undulations of W’ater for those of air in
the labyrinth. The well-informed mechanician will see ij,creasf,s
at once, that the vivacity of the agitations of the nerve thelorce*©?
will be greatly increased by this substitution ; for if wa- the undula-
ter be perfectly elastic through the whole extent of thetions‘
undulatory agitation which it receives, its effect will be
greater in proportion to its specific gravity : and this is
confirmed by an experiment very easily made. Immerse
a table-bell in water contained in a large thin glass ves¬
sel. Strike it WTith a hammer. The sound will be
heard as if the bell had been immediately struck on the
sides of the vessel. The filling of the labyrinth of the
ear with water is therefore an additional mark of the
wisdom of the Great Artist. But this is not enough for
informing us concerning the ultimate mechanical event
in the process of hearing. The manner in which the
nerve is exposed to these undulations must be totally
different from what was formerly imagined. The fila¬
ments and membranes, which have been described by
former anatomists, must have been found by them in a
state quite unlike to their situation and condition in the
living animal. Accordingly the most eminent anato¬
mists of Europe seem at present in great uncertainty as
to the state of the nerve, and are keenly occupied in
observations to this purpose. The descriptions given by
Monro, Scarpa, Camper, Comparetti, and others, are
full of most curious discoveries, which make almost a
total change in our notions of this subject, and will, we
hope, be productive of most valuable information.
Scarpa has discovered that the solid cavity called the Scarpa's
labyrinth contains a threefold expansion of the auditory (^scovery°*
nerve. One part of it, the cochlea,, contains it in a fi- sion**/The
brillous state, ramified in a most symmetrical manner nerve in the
through the whole of the Kona mollis of the lamina spi- labyrinth.
ralis, where it anastomoses with another production of
it diffused over the general lining of that cavity. An¬
other department of the nerve, also in a fibrous state, is
spread over the external surface of a membranaceous
bag, which nearly fills that part of the vestibule into
which the semicircular canals open, and also that orifice
which receives the impressions of the stapes. This bag
sends off tubular membranaceous ducts, which, in like
manner, nearly fill these semicircular canals. A third
department of the nerve is spread over the external sur¬
face qi another membranaceous bag, which lies between
the 6ne just now mentioned and the cochlea, but ha-
2110 communication with either, almost completely
g the remainder of the vestibule. Thus the vestibule
and canal seem only a case for protecting this sensitive
membranaceous vessel, which is almost, but net altoge¬
ther, in contact with the osseous case, being separated
by a delicate and almost fluid cellular substance. The
fibrillous expansion of the nerve is not indiscriminately
diffused over the surface of these sacculi, but evidently
directed to certain foci, where the fibres are constipated.
And this is the last appearance of the fibrous state of
the nerve j for when the inside of these sacculi is inspect¬
ed, no fibres appear, but a pulp (judged to be nervous
T from
146
ACOUSTICS.
Compare t-
ti’s, of a
Preliminary from its similarity to other pulpy productions of the
Observa- brain) adhering to the membranaceous coat, and not se-
tlons- parable from it by gently washing it. It is more abun-
v dant, that is, of greater thickness, opposite to the ex¬
ternal fibrous foci. No organical structure could be
discovered in this pulp, but it probably is organised }
for, besides this adhering pulp, the water in the sacculi
was observed to be clammy or mucous $ so that in all
probability the vascular or fibrous state of the nerve is
succeeded by an uninterrupted production (perhaps
columnar like basalt, though not cohering) j and this at
last ends in simple dissemination, symmetrical however,
where water and nerve are alternate in every direction.
To these observations of Scarpa, Comparetti adds
the curious circumstance of another and regular tym-
in'th^fora-Panurn 'n the foramen rotundum, the cylindric cavity
men rotuu- of which is enclosed at both ends by a fine membrane,
dum. The membrane winch separates it from the cochlea ap¬
pears to be in a state of variable tension, being drawn
up to an umbo by a cartilaginous speck in its middle,
which he thinks adheres to the lamina spiralis, and thus
serves to strain the drumhead, as the malleus strains the
great membrane known to all.
These are most important observations, and must
greatly excite the curiosity of a truly philosophical
mind, and deserve the most careful inquiry into their
justness. If these are accurate descriptions of the or¬
gan, they seem to conduct us farther into the secrets of
nature than any thing yet known.
We think that they promise to give us the greatest
step yet made in physiology, viz. to show us the last
mechanical fact which occurs in the long train inter¬
posed between the external body and the incitement of
our sensitive system. But there are, as yet, great and
tionsof na. essential differences in tlie descriptions given by those
turalist* celebrated naturalists. It cannot he otherwise. The
different, containing labyrinth can be laid open to our view in
no other way than by destroying it ; and its most deli¬
cate contents are the first sufferers in the search. They
are found in very different situations and conditions by
different anatomists, according to their address or their
good fortune. Add to this, that the natural varieties
are very considerable. Faithful descriptions must there¬
fore give very different notions of the ultimate action
and reaction between the unorganized matter in the la¬
byrinth and the ultimate expansion of the auditory
nerve.
The progress which has been made in many parts
of natural science has been great and wonderful j and
perhaps we are not too sanguine, when we express
our hopes that the observations and experiments of
anatomists and mechanicians will soon furnish us with
such a collection of facts respecting the structure and
tlie contents of the organ of hearing, as might enable
vis to give a juster theory of sound than is yet to
be found in the writings of philosophers. There seems
to he no abatement of ardour in the researches of
the physiologists ; and they will not remain long ig¬
norant of the truth or mistake in the accounts given
by Scarpa and Comparetti. A collection of accurate
observations on the structure of the ear would give us
principles on which to proceed in explaining the
vai-ious methods of producing external sounds. The
nature of conlinued sounds might then be treated of,
ffnd would appear, we believe, very different from
2
what it is commonly supposed. Under this head Preliminary
animal voices might he particularly considered, and Obseiva-
the elements of human speech properly ascertained, ^ons.
When the production of continued sounds is once
shown to he a thing regulated by principle, it may he
systematically treated, and this principle may be con¬
sidered as combined with every mechanical state of
body that may he pointed out. This will suggest
to us methods of producing sound which have not
yet been thought of, and may therefore give us
sounds with which we are unacquainted. Such an
acquisition is not to be despised nor rejected. The
bountiful Author of our being and of all our fa¬
culties has made it an object of most enchanting re¬
lish to the human mind. The Greeks, the most culti¬
vated people who have ever figured on tlie stage of life,
enjoyed the pleasures of music with rapture. Even the
poor negro, after toiling a whole day beneath a tropi¬
cal sun, will go ten miles in the dark to dance all
night to the simple music of the balafoe, and return
without sleep to his next day’s toil. The penetrating
eye of the anatomist has discovered in the human la¬
rynx an apparatus evidently contrived for tempering
the great movements of the glottis, so as to enable us
to produce the intended note with the utmost precision.
There is no doubt therefore that the consummate A-
tist has not thought it unworthy of his attention. We
ought therefore to receive with thankfulness this pre¬
sent from our Maker—this laborum dulce lenimen; and
it is surely worthy the attention of the philosopher tp
add to this innocent elegance of life.
Chap. I. Different Theories of Sound.
Most sounds, we all know, are conveyed to us on Of the vc«
the bosom of the air. In whatever manner they either hides of
float upon it, or are propelled forward in it, certain itsoun^*
is, that, without the vehicle of this or some other fluid,
we should have no sounds at all. Let the air be ex¬
hausted from a receiver, and a bell shall emit no sound
when rung in the void j for, as the air continues to grow
less dense, the sound dies away in proportion, so that
at last its strongest vibrations are almost totally si¬
lent.
Thus air is a vehicle for sound. However, we must Air not the
not, with some philosophers assert, that it is the only only one.
vehiclethat, if there were no air, we should have no
sounds whatsoever: for it is found by experiment, that
sounds are conveyed through water with the same faci¬
lity with which they move through air. A bell rung
in water returns a tone as distinct as if rung in air.
This was observed by Herham, who also remarked that
the tone came a quarter deeper. It appears, from the
experiments of naturalists, that fishes have a strong per¬
ception of sounds, even at the bottom of deep rivers.
From hence, it would seem not to be very material in
the propagation of sounds, whether the fluid which
conveys them he elastic or otherwise. Water, which,
of all substances that we know, has the least elasticity,
yet serves to carry them forward j and if we make al¬
lowance for the difference of its density, perhaps the
sounds move in it with a proportional rapidity to what
they are found to do in the elastic fluid of air. But
though air and water are both vehicles of sound, yet
neither of them according to some philosophers seems
to
fcliap. I.
Different *o ke so W itself, biit only as it contains an exceeding*
heoriesof'ly subtle fluid capable of penetrating the most solid bo-
Sound. dies. Hence, by the medium of that fluid, sounds can
“ ' be propagated through wood, or metals, even more
readily than through the open air. By the same means,
deaf people may be made sensible of sounds if they hold
a piece of metal in the mouth, one end of which is ap¬
plied to the sounding body. And as it is certain, that
air cannot penetrate metals, the medium of sound, say
they, must be of a more subtle nature ; and thus the
electrical fluid will naturally occur as the proper one.
But why then is sound no longer heard in an exhausted
receiver, if the air is not the fluid by which it is con¬
veyed, seeing the electrical matter cannot be excluded ?
The reply to this is obvious : The electrical fluid is so
exceedingly subtle, and pervades solid bodies with so
much ease, that any motion of a solid body in a quan¬
tity of electric matter by itself, can never excite a de¬
gree of agitation in it sufficient for producing a sound 5
but if the electric fluid is entangled among the parti¬
cles of air, water, wood, metal, &c. whatever affects
their particles will also affect this fluid, and produce
an audible noise. In the experiment of the air-pump,
it is alleged there may be an ambiguity, as the gra¬
dual exhausting of the air creates an increasing differ¬
ence of pressure on the outside, and may occasion in
the glass a difficulty of vibrating, so as to render it less
fit to communicate to the air without the vibrations that
strike it from within. From this cause the diminution
of sound in an exhausted receiver may be supposed to
proceed, as well as from the diminution of the air. But
if any internal agitation of its parts should happen to
the electrical fluid, exceeding loud noises might be pro¬
pagated through it, as has been the case when large
meteors have kindled at a great distance from the earth.
It is also difficult, they suppose, to account for the ama¬
zing velocity of sound, upon the supposition that it is
propagated by means of air alone ; for nothing is more
certain, than that the strongest and most violent gale
is, in its course, inert and sluggish, compared with the
motion of sound.
One thing however is certain, that whether the fluid
which conveys the note be elastic, or nonelastic, what¬
ever sound we hear is produced by a stroke, which the
sounding body makes against the fluid, whether air or
water. The fluid being struck upon, carries the im¬
pression forward to the ear, and there produces its sen-
Biatsound sation. Philosophers are so far agreed, that they all
, and how allow that sound is nothing more than the impression
upugated. made by an elastic body upon the air or water, and
this impression carried along by either fluid to the or¬
gan of hearing. But the manner in which this con¬
veyance is made, is still disputed : Whether the sound
is diffused into the air, in circle beyond circle, like
the waves of water when we disturb the smoothness of
its surface by dropping in a stone j or whether it tra¬
vels along, like rays diffused from a centre, somewhat
in the swift manner that electricity runs along a rod
of iron *, these are the questions which have divided the
learned.
ewton’s Newton was of the first opinion. He has explained
lC0lT* the progression of sound by an undilatory, or rather a
vermicular, motion in the jsarfs of the air. If we have
an exact idea of the crawling of some insects, we shall
have a tolerable notion of the progression of sound upon
147
this hypothesis. This insect, for instance, in its motion, Different
first carries its contractions from the hinder part, in or-Theories of
der to throw its fore part to the proper distance, then Sound,
it carries its contractions from the fore part to the hin-
der to bring that forward. Something similar to this
is the motion of the air when struck upon by a sound¬
ing body. T.0 be a little more precise, suppose ABC,
I late I. fig. 1. the striking of a harpsichord screwed to
a proper pitch, and drawn out of the right line by the
finger at B. We shall have occasion elsewhere to ob¬
serve, that such a string would, if let go, vibrate to E ;
and from E to I), and back again ; that it ■would con¬
tinue thus to vibrate like a pendulum, for ever, if not
externally resisted, and, like a pendulum, all its little
vibrations would be performed in equal times, the last
and the first being equally long in performing ; also
that, like a pendulum, its greatest swiftness would al¬
ways be when it arrived at E, the middle part of its
motion. Now then, if this string be supposed to fly
from the finger at B, it is obvious, that whatever be.
its own motion, such also will be the motion of the
parts of air that fly before it. Its motion, as is obvious,
is first uniformly accelerated forward from B to E,
then retarded as it goes from E to I), accelerated back
again as it returns from D to E, and retarded from E
to B. This motion being therefore successively pro¬
duced through a range of elastic air, it must happen,
that the parts of one range of air will be sent forward
with accelerated motion, and then with a retarded mo¬
tion. This accelerated motion reaching the remotest
end of the first range will be communicated to a second
range, whilst the nearest parts of the first range being
retarded in their motion, and falling back with the re¬
cession of the string, retire first with an accelerated,
then with a retarded motion, and the remotest parts
will soon follow. In the mean time, while the parts
of the first range are thus falling back, the parts of the
second range are going forward with an accelerated
motion. Thus there wdll be an alternate condensation
and relaxation of the air, during the time of one vibra¬
tion ; and as the air going forward strikes any opposing
body with greater force than upon retiring, so each of
these accelerated progressions has been called by New ¬
ton a pulse of sound.
Thus will the air be driven forward in the direction
of the string. But now we must observe, that these
pulses will move every way; for all motion impressed
upon fluids in any direction whatsoever, operates all
around in a sphere : so that sounds will be driven in all
directions, backwards, forwards, upwards, downwards,
and on every side. They will go‘on succeeding each
other, one on the outside of the other, like circles in
disturbed water ; or rather, they will lie one without
the other, in concentric shells, shell above shell, as we
see in the coats of an onion.
All who have remarked the tone of a bell, while its
sounds are decaying away, must have an idea of the
pulses of sound, which, according to Newton, are form¬
ed by the air’s alternate progression and recession.
And it must be observed, that as each of these pulses is
formed by a single vibration of the string, they must
be equal to each other 5 for the vibrations of the string
are known to be so.
Again, As to the velocity with which sounds travel,
this Newton determines, by the most difficult calcula-
T Z tioa
ACOUSTICS.
148
A C O U
Preceding
theory op¬
posed.
Different txon that can he imagined, to be in proportion to the
Theories of thickness of the parts of the air, and the distance of
Sound, these parts from each other. From hence he goes on
to proVe, that each little part moves backward and for¬
ward like a pendulum $ and from thence he proceeds
to demonstrate, that if the atmosphere were of the same
density everywhere as at the surface of the earth, in
such a case, a pendulum, that reached from its highest
surface down to the surface of the earth, would by its
vibrations discover to us the proportion of the velocity
with which sounds travel. The velocity with which
each pulse would move, he shows, would be as much
greater than the velocity of such a pendulum swinging
with one complete vibration, as the circumference of
a circle is greater than the diameter. From hence he
calculates, that the motion of sound will be 979 feet
in one second. But this not being consonant to expe¬
rience, he takes in another consideration, which de¬
stroys entirely the rigour of his former demonstration,
namely, vapours in the air j and then finds the motion
of sound to be 1142 feet in one second, or near 13
miles in a minute ; a proportion which experience had
established nearly before.
This much will serve to give an obscure idea of
a theory which has met with numerous opposers. Even
John Bernoulli, Newton’s greatest disciple, modestly
owns that he did not pretend to understand this part
of the Principia. He attempted therefore to give a
more perspicuous demonstration of his own, that might
confirm and illustrate the Newtonian theory. The
subject seemed to reject elucidation j his theory is ob¬
viously wrong, as D’Alembert has proved in his Theo¬
ry of Fluids.
Various have been the objections that have been
made to the Newtonian system of sounds. It is urged,
that this theory can only agree with the motion of
sound in an elastic fluid, whereas sounds are known to
move forward through water that is not elastic. To
explain their progress therefore through water, a se¬
cond theory must be formed ; so that two theories must
be made to explain a similar effect $ which is contrary
to the simplicity of true philosophy, for it is contrary
to the simplicity of nature. It is further urged, that
this slow vermicular motion but ill represents the velo¬
city with which sounds travel, as we know by experi¬
ence that it is almost 13 miles in a minute. In short,
it is urged, that such undulations as have been describ¬
ed, when coming from several sonorous bodies at once,
would cross, obstruct, and confound each other; so
that, if they were conveyed to the ear by this means,
we should hear nothing but a medley of discord and
broken articulations. But this is equally with the rest
contradictory to experience, since we hear the fullest
concert, not only without confusion, but with the high¬
est pleasure. These objections, whether well found¬
ed or not, have given rise to another theory : which
we shall likewise lay before the reader ; though it too
appears liable to objections, which shall be afterwards
mentioned.
Every sound may be considered as driven off from
the sounding body in straight lines, and impi'essed upon
the air in one direction only : but whatever impression
is made upon a fluid in one direction, is diffused upon
its surface into all directions : so that the sound first
driven directly forward soon fills up a wide sphere, and
The objec-
tioas.
Another
theory.
STIC S. Chap.]
is heard on every side. Thus, as it is impressed, it in- Different
stantaneously travels forward with a very swift motion, Theories i
resembling the velocity with which we know electricity Sound,
flies from one end of a line to another. * ^
Now, as to the pulses, or close shakes as the musi¬
cians expi'ess it, which a sounding body is known to
make, each pulse (say the supporters of this theory)
is itself a distinct and perfect sound, and the interval
between every two pulses is px-ofoundly silent. Con¬
tinuity of sound from the same body is only a decep¬
tion of the hearing} for as each distinct sound succeeds
at very small intervals, the organ has no time to trans¬
mit its images with equal swiftness to the mind, and
the interval is thus lost to sense : just as in seeing a
flaming torch, whirled rapidly round, it appears as a
ring of fire. In this manner a beaten drum, at some
small distance, pi-esents us with the idea of continuing-
sound. When children run with their sticks along a
rail, a continuing sound is thus represented, though it
need scarce be observed that the stroke against each
rail is perfectly distinct and insulated.
According to this theory, therefore, the pulses are
nothing more than distinct sounds repeated by the same
body, the first stroke or vibration being ever the loud¬
est, and travelling farther than those that follow; while
each succeeding vibration gives a new sound, but with
diminished force, till at last the pulses decay away to¬
tally, as the force decays that gives them existence.
All bodies whatsoever that are struck return more or
less a sound : but some, wanting elasticity, give back
no repetition ol the sound } the noise is at once produ¬
ced and dies : while other bodies, however, there are,
which being more elastic and capable of vibration, give
back a sound, and repeat the same several times suc¬
cessively. These last are said to have a tone} the
others are not allowed to have any.
This tone of the elastic string, or bell, is notwith¬
standing nothing more than a similar sound of what
the former bodies produced, but with the difference of
being many times repeated, while their note is but
single. So that, if we would give the former bodies a
tone, it will be necessary to make them repeat their
sound, by repeating our blows swiftly upon them. This
will effectually give them a tone} and even an unmusi¬
cal instrument has often had a fine effect by its tone in
our concerts.
Let us now go on then to suppose, that by swift
and equably continued strokes we give any nonelastic
body its tone } it is very obvious, that no alterations
will be made in this tone by the quickness of the strokes,
though repeated ever so fast. These will only render
the tone more equal and continuous, but make no al¬
teration in the tone it gives. On the conti-ary, if w’e
make an alteration in the force of each blow, a differ¬
ent tone will then undoubtedly be excited. The dif¬
ference will be small, it must be confessed } for the tones
of these inflexible bodies are capable but of small va¬
riation } however, there will certainly be a difference.
The table on which we write, for instance, will return
a different sound when struck with a club, from what
it did when struck only with a switch. Thus nonelastic
bodies return a difference of tone, not in proportion
to the swiftness with which their sound is repeated, but
iu proportion to the greatness of the blow which pro¬
duced it} for in two equal nonelastic bodies, that body
produced
Sound.
'hap. I. A C O U
Different produced the deepest tone which was struck by the
.'heoiieK of greatest blow.
We now then come to a critical question, What is
it that produces the difference of tone in two elastic
sounding bells or strings ? or, what makes one deep and
the other shrill ? This question has always been hither¬
to answered by saying, that the depth or height of the
note proceeded from the slowness or swiftness of the
times of the vibrations. The slowest vibrations, it has
been said, are qualified for producing the deepest tones,
while the swiftest vibrations produce the highest tones.
In this case, an effect has been given for a cause. It is
in fact the force with which the sounding string strikes
the air when struck upon, that makes the true distinc¬
tion in the tones of sound. It is this force, with greater
or less impressions, resembling the greater or less force
of the blows upon a nonelastie body, which produces
correspondent affections of sound. The greatest forces
produce the deepest sounds ; the high notes are the ef¬
fect of small efforts. In the same manner a bell, wide
at the mouth, gives a grave sound; but if it be very
massy withal, that will render it still graver j but if
massy, wide, and long or high, that will make the
tone deepest of all.
1 hus, then, will elastic bodies give the deepest sound
in proportion to the force with which they strike the
air: but if we should attempt to increase their force by
giving them a stronger blow, this will be in vain j they
will still return the same tone ; for such is their forma¬
tion, that they are sonorous only because they are elas¬
tic, and the force of this elasticity is not increased by
our strength, as the greatness of a pendulum’s vibra¬
tions will not be increased by falling from a greater
height.
Now as to the frequency with which elastic strings vi¬
brate the deepest tones, it has been found, that the long¬
est strings have the widest vibrations, and consequently
go backward and forward slowest; while, on the con¬
trary, the shortest strings vibrate the quickest, or come
and go in the shortest intervals. From hence those
who have treated of sounds have asserted, as was said
before, that the tone of the string depended upon the
length or the shortness of the vibrations. This, however,
is not the case. One and the same string, when struck,
must always, like the same pendulum, return precisely
similar vibrations : but it is well known, that one and
the same string, when struck upon, does not always re¬
turn precisely the same tone : so that in this case the
vibrations follow one rule, and the tone another. The
vibrations must be invariably the same in the same string,
which does not return the same tone invariably, as is
well known to musicians in general. In the violin, for
instance, they can easily alter the tone of the string an
octave or eight notes higher, by a softer method of draw¬
ing the bow j and some are known thus to bring out
the most charming airs imaginable. These peculiar
tones are by the English fiddlers called /iu(e-notes. The
only reason, it has been alleged, that can be assigned
for the same string thus returning different tones, must
certainly be the different force of its strokes upon the
air. In one case, it has double the tone of the other:
s T I C S. I49
because upon the soft touches of the bow, only half its Different
elasticity is put into vibration. Theories of
This being understood (continue the authors of Sound.
this theory), we shall be able clearly to account for *
many things relating to sounds that have hitherto
been inexplicable. Thus, for instance, if it be ask-
etl> ^ hen two strings are stretched together of equal
lengths, tensions, and thickness, how does it happen,
that one of them being struck, and made to vibrate
throughout, the other shall vibrate throughout also ?
The answer is obvious : The force that the string struck
receives is communicated to the air, and the air com¬
municates the same to the similar string; which there¬
fore receives all the force of the former j and the force
being equal, the vibrations must be so too. Again:
Put the question, If one string be but half the length
of the other, and be struck, how will the vibrations
be ? Ihe answer is. The longest string will receive all
the force of the string half as long as itself, and there¬
fore it will vibrate in proportion, that is, through half
its length. In the same manner, if the longest string
were three times as long as the other, it would only
vibrate in a third of its length ; or if four times, in a
fourth of its length. In short, whatever force the
smaller string impresses upon the air, the air will im¬
press a similar force upon the longer string, and par¬
tially excite its vibrations.
I rom hence also we may account for the cause of those Eoliar.
charming melancholy gradations of sound in the EolianLyre.
lyre, Plate I. fig. 2.; an instrument (says Sir John Haw¬
kins) lately obtruded upon the public as a new invention,
though described above a century ago by Kircher *. # Vid#
Jhis instrument is easily made, being nothing more
than a long narrow box of thin deal, about 30 inches
long, 5 inches broad, and inches deep, with a cip-lib,ix*
cle in the middle of the upper side or belly about i£
inch diameter pierced with small holes. On this side are
seven, ten, or (according to Kircher) fifteen or more
strings of very fine gut, stretched over bridges at each
end, like the bridge of a fiddle, and screwed up or re¬
laxed with screw-pins (b). The strings are all tuned
to one and the same note; and the instrument is pla¬
ced in some current of air, where the wind can brush
over its strings with freedom. A window with the
sash just raised to give the air admission will answer
this purpose exactly. Now when the entering air
blows upon these strings with different degrees of force,
there will be excited difierent tones of sound ; some¬
times the blast brings out all the tones in full concert;
sometimes it sinks them to the softest murmurs 5 it
feelsTor every tone, and by its gradations of strength
solicits those gradations of sound-which art has taken
different methods to produce.
It remains, in the last place, to consider (by this
theory) the loudness and lowness, or, as the musicians
speak, the strength and softness of sound. In vibrat¬
ing elastic strings, the loudness of the tone is in pro¬
portion to the deepness of the note j that is, in two
strings, all things in other circumstances alike, the
deepest tmie will be loudest. In musical instruments
upon a different principle, as in the violin, it is othecr
oiB) TjhMfiS.Ure repreS,!ntS tI,e !"s,furntten chords i of'vh!cl1 some direct only eidit to be tuned uni
.00!, and the two outermost octaves below them. But this seems to he not material. ^ ^
ACOUSTICS. Chap.
Difierent wise ; the tones are matle in such instruments, hy a
Theories of number of small vibrations crowded into one stroke.
Sounds. rosined bow, for instance, being drawn along a
V“”"'v ' string, its roughnesses catch the string at very small
intervals, and excite its vibrations. In this instrument,
therefore, to excite loud tones, the bow must be drawn
quick, and this will produce the greatest number of
vibrations. But it must be observed, that the more
quick the bow passes over the string, the less apt will
the roughness of its surface he to touch the string at
every instant; to remedy this, therefore, the bow must
he pressed the harder as it is drawn quicker, and thus
its fullest sound will be brought from the instrument.
If the swiftness of the vibrations in an instrument thus
rubbed upon, exceed the force of the deeper sound in
another, then the swift vibrations will be heard at a
greater distance, and as much farther 00 as the swift¬
ness in them exceeds the force in the other.
The nature jdv the same theory (it is alleged) may all the pbe-
of musical nomena of musical sounds be easily explained.—The
lustrated" fables of tIie ancients P^tend, that music was first
according found out by the beating of different hammers upon
to the same the smith’s anvil. Without pursuing the fable, let us
theory. endeavour to explain the nature of musical sounds hy
a similar method. Let us suppose an anvil, or several
similar anvils, to he struck upon by several hammers ot
different weights or forces. The hammer, which is
double that of another, upon striking the anvil will
produce a sound double that of the other : this double
sound musicians have agreed to call an octave. I he
ear can judge of the difference or resemblance of these
sounds with great ease, the numbers being as one and
two, and therefore very readily compared. Suppose
that a hammer, three times less than the first, strikes
the anvil, the sound produced hy this will be three
times less than the first: so that the ear, in judging
the similitude of these sounds, will find somewhat more
difficulty ; because it is not so easy to tell how often
one is contained in three, as it is to tell how often it
is contained in two. Again, Suppose that a hammer
four times less than the first strikes the anvil, the ear
will find greater difficulty still in judging precisely the
difference of the sounds ; for the difference of the num¬
bers four and one cannot so soon he determined with
precision as three and one. If the hammer be five
times less, the difficulty of judging will be still greater.
If the hammer be six times less, the difficulty still in¬
creases, and so also of the seventh, so that the ear can¬
not always readily and at once determine the precise
gradation. Now, of all comparisons, those which the
mind makes most easily, and with least labour, are the
most pleasing. There is a certain regularity in the
human soul, by which it finds happiness in exact and
striking, and easily made comparisons. As the ear is
but an instrument of the mind, it is therefore most
pleased with the combination of any two sounds, the
difference of which it can most readily distinguish. It
is more pleased with the concord of two sounds which are
to each other as one and two, than of two sounds which
are as one and three, or one and four, or one and five,
or one and six or seven. Upon this pleasure, which
the mind takes in comparison, all harmony depends. OfMmicl
The variety of sounds is infinite: but because the ear Sounds!
cannot compare two sounds so as readily to distinguish
their discriminations when they exceed the proportion
of one and seven, musicians have been content to con¬
fine all harmony within that compass, and allowed hut
seven notes in musical composition.
Let us now then suppose a stringed instrument fitted
up in the order mentioned above. For instance : Let
the first string be twice as long as the second j let the
third string be three times shorter than the first; let the
fourth be four times, the fifth string five times, and
the sixth six times as short as the first. Such an in¬
strument would probably give us a representation of
the lyre as it came first from the hand ol the inven¬
tor. This instrument will give us all the seven notes
following each ether, in the order in which any two
of them will accord together most pleasingly; but yet
it will be a very inconvenient and a very disagreeable
instrument ; inconvenient, for in a compass of seven
strings only, the first must be seven times as long as
the last; and disagreeable, because this first string will
be seven times -as loud also : so that when the tones arc
to be played in a different order, loud and soft sounds
would be intermixed with most disgusting alternations.
In order to improve the first instrument, therefore,
succeeding musicians very judiciously threw in all the
other strings between the two first, or, in other words,
between the two octaves, giving to each, however, the
same proportion to what it would have had in the first
natural instrument. This made the instrument more
portable, and the sounds more even and pleasing. They
therefore disposed the sounds between the octave in their
natural order, and gave each its own proportional di¬
mensions. Of these sounds, where the proportion be¬
tween any two of them is most obvious, the concord
between them will be most pleasing. Thus octaves,
which are as two to one, have a most harmonious effect;
the fourth and fifth also sound sweetly together, and
they will be found, upon calculation, to bear the same
proportion to each other that octaves do. Let it
not be supposed (says M. Sauveur), that the musical
scale is merely an arbitrary combination of sounds ;
it is made up from the consonance and differences of
the parts which compose it. Those who have often
heard a fourth and fifth accord together, will be natu¬
rally led to discover their difference at once ; and the
mind unites itself to their beauties.” Let us then cease
to assign the coincidences of vibrations as the cause of
harmony, since these coincidences in two strings vibrat¬
ing at different intervals, must at best he but fortuitous ;
whereas concord is always pleasing. The true cause
why concord is pleasing, must arise from our power, in
such a case, of measuring most easily the differences of
the tones. In proportion as the note can he measured
with its fundamental tone by large and obvious distinc¬
tions, then the concord is most pleasing ; on the con¬
trary, when the ear measures the discriminations of two
tones hy very small parts, or cannot measure them at
all, it loses the beauty of their resemblance : the whole
is discord and pain (c).
(c) It is certain, that in proportion to the simplicity of relations in sound, the ear is pleased with its combi¬
nations * but this is not to be admitted as the cause why musicians have confined all harmony to an octave.
1 * Discriminated
ACOUSTICS.
hap. I.
.Musical But there is another property in the vibration of a
ounds. musical string not yet taken notice of, anti which is al-
lodged to confirm the foregoing theory. If we strike
the string of a harpsichord, or any other elastic sound¬
ing chord whatever, it returns a continuing sound,
'i’his till of late was considered as one simple uniform
tone ; but all musicians now confess, that instead of
one tone it actually returns four tones, and that con¬
stantly- The notes are, beside the fundamental tone,
an octave above, a twelfth above, and a seventeenth.
One of the bass notes of a harpsichord has been dis¬
sected in this manner by Kameau, and the actual exist¬
ence of these tones proved beyond a possibility of being
controverted. In fact, the experiment is easily tried j
for if we smartly strike one of the lower keys of a
harpsichord, and then take the finger briskly away, a
tolerable ear will be able to distinguish, that, after the
fundamental tone has ceased, three other shriller tones
will be distinctly beard ; first the octave above, then
the twelfth, and lastly the seventeenth : the octave a-
bove is in general almost mixed with the fundamental
tone, so as not to be easily perceived, except by an ear
long habituated to the minute discriminations of sounds.
So that we may observe, that the smallest tone is heard
last, and the deepest and largest one first : the two
others in order.
In the whole theory of sounds, nothing has given
greater room for speculation, conjecture, and disap¬
pointment, than this amazing property in elastic strings.
The whole string is universally acknowledged to be in
vibration in all its parts, yet this single vibration re¬
turns no less than four diilerent sounds. They who
account for the tones of strings by the number of their
vibrations, are here at the greatest loss. Daniel Ber¬
noulli supposes that a vibrating string divides itself
into a number of curves, each of which has a peculiar
vibration j and though they all swing together in the
common vibration, yet each vibrates within itself.
This opinion, which was supported, as most geometri¬
cal speculations are, with the parade of demonstration,
was only born soon after to die. Others have ascribed
this to an elastic difference in the parts of the air, each
of which, at different intervals, thus received different
impressions from the string, in proportion to their ela¬
sticity. This is absurd. If we allow the difference of
tone to proceed from the force, and not the frequency,
of the vibrations, this difficulty will admit of an easy
solution. These sounds, though they seem to exist to¬
gether in the string, actually follow each other in suc¬
cession : while the vibration has greatest force, the fun¬
damental tone is brought forward : the force of the vi¬
bration decaying, the octave is produced, but almost
only instantaneously; to this succeeds, with diminished
force, the twelfth; and, lastly, the seventeenth is heard
to vibrate with great distinctness, while the three other
tones are always silent. These sounds, thus excited,
are all of them the harmonic tones, whose differences
from the fundamental tone are, as was said, strong and
distinct. On the other hand, the discordant tones can- Of Musical
not be heard. Their differences being but very small, Sounds,
they are overpowered, and in a manner drowned in the r""v~'
tones of superior difference ; yet not always neither ;
for Daniel Bernoulli has been able, from the same
stroke, to make the same string bring out its harmo¬
nic and its discordant tones also (d). So that from
hence we may justly infer, that every note whatsoever
is only a succession of tones ; and that those are most
distinctly heard, whose differences are most easily per¬
ceivable.
To this theory, however, though it has a plausible Objections
appearance, there are strong and indeed insuperable to the pre-
ohjections. The very fundamental principle of it is ceding
false. No body whatever, whether elastic or nonela- cor^‘
stic, yields a graver sound by being struck with a lar¬
ger instrument, unless either the sounding body, or that
part of it which emits the sound, is largest. In this
case, the largest bodies always return the gravest
sounds.
In speaking of elastic and nonelastic bodies in a mu¬
sical sense, we are not to push the distinction so far as
when we speak of them philosophically. A body is
musically elastic, all of whose parts are thrown into vi¬
brations so as to emit a sound when only part of their
surface is struck. Of this kind are hells, musical
strings, and all bodies whatever that are considerably
hollow. Musical nonelastics are such bodies as emit a
sound only from that particular place which is struck :
thus, a table, a plate of iron nailed on wood, a bell
sunk in the earth, are all of them nonelastics in a mu¬
sical sense, though not philosophically so. When a
solid body, such as a log of wood, is struck with a
switch, only that part of it emits a sound which comes
in contact with the switch ; the note is acute and loud,
but would be no less so though the adjacent parts of
the log were removed. If, instead of the switch, a
heavier or larger instrument is made use of, a larger
portion of its surface then returns a sound, and the note
is consequently more grave ; but it would not be so
if the large instrument was struck with a sharp edge,
or a surface only equal to that of the small one.
In sounds of this kind, where there is only a single
thwack, without any repetition, the immediate cause
of the gravity or acuteness seems to be the quantity of
air displaced by the sounding body ; a large quantity of
air displaced produces a grave sound, and a smaller *
quantity a more acute one, the force wherewith the air
is displaced signifying very little. What we here ad¬
vance is confirmed by some experiments made by Dr
Priestley, concerning the musical tone of electrical dis¬
charges. The passage being curious, and not very
long, we shall here transcribe it.
“ As the course of my experiments has required a
great variety of electrical explosions, I could not help
observing a great variety in the musical tone made by
the reports. This excited my curiosity to attempt to
reduce this variation to some measure. Accordingly,
by
Discriminated sounds, whose vibrations either never coincide, or at least very rarely, do not only cease to please,
but violently grate the ear. Harmony and discord, therefore, are neither discriminated by the judgment of
hearers, nor the institution of musicians, but by their own essential and immutable nature.
O) Vid, Memoires de 1’Academic de Berlin, 1753, p. 153.
152
A C O U
Of Musical by the help of a couple of spinets, and two persons who
Sounds, had good ears for music, I endeavoured to ascertain the
tone 0f some electrical discharges j and observed that
every discharge made several strings, particularly those
that were chords to one another, to vibrate $ but one
note was always predominant, and sounded after the
rest. As every explosion was repeated several times,
and three of us separately took the same note, there
remained no doubt but that the tone we fixed upon
, was at least very near the true one. The result was
as follows :
“ A jar containing half a square foot of coated glass
founded F sharp, concert pitch. Another jar of a dif¬
ferent form, but equal surface, sounded the same.
“ A jar of three square feet sounded C below F sharp.
A battery consisting of sixty-four jars, each containing
half a square foot, sounded F below the C.
“ The same battery, in conjunction with another of
thirty-one jars, sounded C sharp. So that a greater
quantity of coated glass always gave a deeper note.
“ Differences in the degree of a charge in the same
jar made little or no difference in the tone of the ex¬
plosion 5 if any, a higher charge gave rather a deeper
note.”
These experiments shew us how much the gravity or
acuteness of sounds depends on the quantity of air put
in agitation by the sounding body. We know that the
noise of the electric explosion, arises from the return of
the air into the vacuum produced by the electric flash.
The larger the vacuum, the deeper was the note : for
the same reason, the discharge of a musket produces a
more acute note than that of a cannon $ and thunder is
deeper than either.
Besides this, however, other circumstances concur
to produce different degrees of gravity or acuteness in
sounds. The sound of a table struck upon with a piece
of wood, will not be the same with that produced from
a plate of iron struck by the same piece of w'ood, even
if the blows should be exactly equal, and the iron per¬
fectly kept from vibrating. Here the sounds are gene¬
rally said to differ in their degrees of acuteness, accord¬
ing to the specific gravities or densities of the substan¬
ces which emit them. Thus gold, which is the most
dense of all metals, returns a much graver sound than
silver •, and metalline rvires, which are more dense than
therms, return a proportionably graver sound. But
neither does this appear to be a general rule in which
We can put confidence. Bell-metal is denser than cop¬
per, but it by no means appears to yield a graver sound :
on the contrary, it seems very probable, that copper
will give a graver sound than bell-metal, if both are
struck upon in their non-elastic state j and we can by
no means think that a bell of pure tin, the least dense
of all the metals, will give a more acute sound than one
of bell-metal, which is greatly more dense. In some
bodies hardness seems to have a considerable effect.
Glass, which is considerably harder than any metal,
gives a more acute sound j bell-metal is harder than
gold, lead, or tin, and therefore sounds much more a-
cutely : though how far this holds with regard to other
substances, there is not a sufficient number of experi¬
ments for us to judge.
In bodies musically elastic, the whole substance vi¬
brates with the slightest stroke, and therefore they al¬
ways give the same note whether they are struck with
S T I C S. Chap
a large or with a small instrument; so that ; striking a 0f M .
part of the surface of any body musically elastic is equi- SoheiI
valent in it, to striking the whole surface of a non- v—-y-.
elastic one* If the whole surface of a table was struck
with another table, the note produced would be neither
more nor less acute whatever force was employed ; be¬
cause the whole surface would then yield a sound, and
no force could increase the surface: the sound would
indeed be louder in proportion to the force employed,
but the gravity would remain the same. In like man¬
ner, when a bell or musical string is struck, the whole
substance vibrates, and a greater stroke cannot increase
the substance. Hence we see the fallacy of what is said
concerning the Pythagorean anvils. An anvil is a
body musically elastic, and no difference in the tone can
be perceived whether it is struck with a large or with
a small hammer j because either of them are sufficient
to make the whole substance vibrate, provided nothing
but the anvil is struck upon : smiths, however, do not
strike their anvils, but red hot-iron laid upon their an¬
vils ; and thus the vibrations of the anvil are stopped,
so that it becomes a non-elastic body, and the differ¬
ences of tone in the strokes of different hammers pro¬
ceed only from the surface of the large hammers cover¬
ing the whole surface of the iron, or at least a greater
part of it than the small ones. If the small hammer is
sufficient to cover the whole surface of the iron as well
as the large one, the note produced will be the same
whether the large or the small hammer is used.
Lastly, The argument for the preceding theory,
grounded on the production of what are called jlutc-
notes on the violin, is built on a false foundation ; for
the bow being lightly drawn on an open string, pro¬
duces no flute-notes^ but only the harmonies of the note
to which the string is tuned. The Jlute*notes are pro¬
duced by a particular motion of the bow, quick and
near the bridge, and by fingering very gently. By this
management the same sounds are produced, though at
certain intervals only, as if the vibrations were trans¬
ferred to the space between the end of the finger-board
and the finger, instead of that between the finger and
the bridge. Why this small part of the string should
vibrate in such a case, and not that which is under the
immediate action of the bow, we must own ourselves
ignorant j nor dare we affirm that the vibrations really
are transferred in this manner, only the same sounds are
produced as if they were.
Though these objections seem sufficiently to over¬
turn the foregoing theory, with regard to acute sounds
being the effects of weak strokes, and grave ones of
stronger impulses, we cannot admit that longer or
shorter vibrations are the occasions of gravity or acute¬
ness in sound. A musical sound, however lengthened,
either by a string or bell, is only a repetition of a single
one, whose duration by itself is but for a moment, and
is therefore termed inappretiable, like the smack of a
whip, or the explosion of an electrical battery. The
continuation of the sound is nothing more than a repe¬
tition of this instantaneous inappretiable noise after the
manner of an echo, and it is only this echo that makes
the sound agreeable. For this reason, music is much
more agreeable when played in a large hall where the
sound is reverberated, than in a small room where there
is no such reverberation. For the same reason, the
sound of a string is more agreeable when put on a hol¬
low
Chap. II. A C O U
Propaga- low violin tliatt when fastened to a plain board, &c.—
tion (>f In the sound of a bell we cannot avoid observing this
, 'Sou>11 ' . echo very distinctly. The sound appears to be made
up ot distinct pulses, or repetitions of the same note
produced by the stroke of the hammer. It can by no
means be allowed, that the note would be more acute
though these pulses were to succeed one another more
rapidly ; (he sound would indeed become more simple,
but would still preserve the same tone.—In musical
strings the reverberations are vastly more quick than
in bells 5 and therefore their sound is more uniform or
siuiple, and consequently more agreeable than that of
■'lonica. musical glasses*, the vibrations must be in¬
conceivably quicker than in any bell or stringed instru¬
ment : and hence they are of all others the most simple
and the most agreeable, though neither the most acute
nor the loudest.——As far as we can judge, quickness
ol vibration contributes to the uniformity, or simplici¬
ty, but not to the acuteness, nor to the loudness, of a
musical note.
It may here be objected, that each of the different
pulses, ol which we observe the sound of a bell to be
composed, is of a very perceptible length, and far from
being instantaneous ; so that it is not fair to infer that
the sound of a bell is only a repetition of a single in¬
stantaneous stroke, seeing it is evidently the repetition
ol a lengthened note.—To this it may be replied, that
the inappretiable sound which is produced by striking
a bell in a non-elastic state, is the very same which, be¬
ing first propagated round (be bell, forms one of these
short pulses that is afterwards re-echoed as long as the
vibrations of the metal continue, and it is impossible
that the quickness of repetition of any sound can either
increase or diminish its gravity.
C hap. II. Of the Propagation of Sound. Newton's
Doctrine explained and vindicated.
'ui'.n of • ^HE .wr'ters 011 soum1 I,ave been betrayed into these
ound! ° difficulties and obscurities, by rejecting the 47th pro¬
position, B. II. of Newton, as inconclusive reasoning.
Of this proposition, however, the late ingenious I)r
Matthew Young bishop of Clonfert, formerly of Tri¬
nity college, Dublin, has given a clear, explanatory,
and able defence. He candidly owns that the demon¬
stration is obscurely stated, and takes the liberty of
varying, in some degree, from the method pursued by
Newton. J
x. Hie parts of all sounding bodies (be observes),
■wbrate according to the law of a cycloidal pendulum :
for they may be considered as composed of an indefinite
number of elastic fibres j but these fibres vibrate ac¬
cording to tiiat law. Vide Helsham, p. 270.
“ 2. Sounding bodies propagate their motions on all
sides in directum, by successive condensations and rare¬
factions, and successive goings forward and returnings
backward of the particles. Vide Prop. 43. B. II. New¬
ton Princip.
“ 3- pulses are those parts of the air which vi¬
brate backwards and forwards 5 and which, by going
forward, strike {pulsant) against obstacles. The ikti-
tude of a pulse is the rectilineal space through which
tne motion of the air is propagated-during one vibration
of the sounding body.
“ 4. All pulses move equally fast. This is proved
Vol. I. Part I. * +
s T I c S. I5:
by experiment; and it is found that they describe 1070 Piopapa-
Paris feet, or 1142 London feet in a second, whether tiou of
the sound be loud or low, grave or acute. Sound.
“ 5. Prob. To determine the latitude of a pulse. v'~ ll''
Divide the space which the pulse describes in a given
time (4) by the number of vibrations performed in the
same time by the sounding body, {Cor. 1. Prop. 24.
Smith's Harmonics), the quotient is the latitude.
“ M. Sauveur, by some experiments on organ pipes,
found that a body, which gives the gravest harmonic
sound, vibrates 12 times and a half in a second, and
that the shrillest sounding body vibrates 51.100 times
in a second. At a medium, let us take the body which
gives what Sauveur calls his fixed sound: it performs
100 vibrations in a second, and in the same time the
pulses describe 1070 Parisian feet ; therefore the space
described by the pulses whilst the body vibrates once,
that is, the latitude, or interval of the pulse, will be
10.7 feet.
“ 6. Prob. To find the proportion which the great¬
est space, through which the particles of the air vibrate,
bears to the radius of a circle, whose perimeter is equal
to the latitude of the pulse.
“ During the first half of the progress of the elastic
fibre, or sounding body, it is continually getting near¬
er to the next particle; and during the latter half of
its progress, that particle is getting farther from the
fibre, and these portions of time are equal {He Is ham) :
therefore we may conclude, that at the end of the pro¬
gress of the fibre, the first particle of air will he nearly
as far distant from the fibre as when it began to move,
and in the same manner we may infer, that all the par¬
ticles vibrate through spaces nearly equal to that run
over by the fibre.
“ Now M. Sauveur {Acad. Scienc. ann. 1700, p.
141.) has found by experiment, that the middle point
of a chord which produces his fixed sound, and whose
diameter is ^ of a line, runs over in its smallest sen¬
sible vibrations ^ of a line, and in its greatest vibra¬
tion 72 times that space ; that is, 72XtV a or
4 lines, that is, of an inch.
“ The latitude of the pulses of this fixed sound is
10.7 feet (5) ; and since the circumference of a circle
is to its radius as 710 is to 113, the greatest space de¬
scribed by the particles will be to the radius of a cir¬
cle, whose periphery is equal to the latitude of the pulse
as |d of an inch is to 1.7029 feet, or 20.4348 inches,
that is, as 1 to 61.3044.
“ If the length of the string he increased or dimi¬
nished in any proportion, cceterisparibus, the greatest
space described by its middle point will vary in -the
same proportion. For the inflecting force is to the
tending force as the distance of the string from the
middle point of vibration to half the length of the
string (see Helsham and Martin) ; and therefore the
inflecting and tending forces being given, the string
will vibrate through spaces proportioned to its length ;
hut the latitude of the pulse is inversely as the number
of vibrations performed by the string in a given time
(5), that is, directly as the time of one vibration, or
directly as the length of the string {Prop. 24. Cor. 7.
Smith's Harmonics) ; therefore the greatest space
through which the middle point of the string vibrates
will vary in the direct ratio of the latitude of the pulse,
or of the radius of a circle whose circumference is equal
17 ‘ to
154
ACOUSTICS.
Sound.
Propaga- to tlie latitude, that is, it will be to that radius as i to
lion of 61.3044.
“ 7. If the particles of the aerial pulses, during any
part of their vibration, be successively agitated, accord¬
ing to the law of a cycloidal pendulum, the compara¬
tive elastic forces, arising from their mutual action, by
which they will afterwards be agitated, will be such as
will cause the particles to continue that motion, accord¬
ing to the same law, to the end of their vibration.
“ Let AE, BC, CD, &c. fig. 3. denote the equal
distances of the successive pulses j ABC the direction
of the motion of the pulses propagated from A to¬
wards B j E, F, G, three physical points of the
quiescent medium, situated in the right line AC at
equal distances from each other j Ee, F/^ Gg, the very
small equal spaces through which these particles vi¬
brate ; t, (p, y, any intermediate places of these points.
Draw the right line PS, fig. 4. equal to Etf, bisect it
in O, and from the centre O with the radius OP de¬
scribe the circle SIP/?. Let the whole time of the
vibration of a particle and its parts be denoted by
the circumference of this circle and its proportional
parts. And since the particles are supposed to be at
first agitated according to the law of a cycloidal pen¬
dulum, if at any time PH or PHS/?, the perpendi¬
cular HL or /?/, be let fall on PS, and if Ee be taken
equal to PL or P/, the particle E shall be found in e.
Thus will the particle E perform its vibrations accord¬
ing to the law of a cvcloidal pendulum. Prop. 52. B. 1.
Pn ncipia.
“ Let us suppose now, that the particles have been
successively agitated, according to this law, for a cer¬
tain time, by any cause whatsoever, and let us examine
what will be the comparative elastic forces arising from
their mutual action, by which they will afterwards con¬
tinue to he agitated.
“ In the circumference PHS/? take the equal arches
HI, IK in the same ratio to the whole circumference
which the equal right lines EF, FG, have to BC the
whole interval of the pulses ; and let fall the per¬
pendiculars HL, IM, KN. Since the points E, F, G
are successively agitated in the same manner, and per¬
form their entire vibrations of progress and regress
while the pulse is propagated from B to C, if PH be
the time from the beginning of the motion of E, PI
will be the time from the beginning of the motion of
F, and PK tiie time from the beginning of the motion
of G •, and therefore Es, Yep, Gy will be respectively
equal to PL, PM, PN in the progress of the particles.
Whence ip> or EF-j-F<p—Ee is equal to EF—LM. But
*V is the expansion of EF in the place and therefore
this expansion is to its mean expansion as EF—LM to
EF. But LM is to III as IM is to OP j and IH is
to EF as the circumference PHSA is to BC 5 that is,
as OP is to V, it V be the radius of a circle whose
circumference is BC } therefore, e,v eequo, LM is to
EF as IM is to V j and therefore the expansion of EF
in the place sf is to its mean expansion as V—IM is to
V ; and the elastic force existing between the physical
points E and F is to the mean elastic force as
V  EM Y ^otes Fnewn. Led. 9.) By the same
argument, the elastic force existing between the phy¬
sical points F and G is to the mean elastic force as
is to j
V—KN~~V
forces is to the mean elastic force as
IM—KN
Chap. II
and the difference between these
Propaga¬
tion of
Sound.
V*—V . IM—V .
IM—KN . 1
 ^  is to Y
KN-fIM. KN ,s t0 V ’ tllHUs’ as
; or as IM—KN is to V j if on¬
ly (upon account of the very narrow limits of the vi¬
bration) we suppose IM and KN to be indefinitely less
than V. Wherefore since V is given, the difference
of the forces is as IM—KN, or as HL—IM (because
KH is bisected in I) j that is, (because HL—IM is
to IH as OM is to OI or OP, and IH and OP are
given quantities) as OM ; that is, if P/be bisected in
Cl as Sl<p.
“ In the same manner it may be shown, that if PHS/j
be the time from the beginning of the motion of E,
PHS? will be the time from the beginning of the mo¬
tion of F, and PHSA: the time from the beginning of
the motion of G ; and that the expansion of EF in
the place t<p is to its mean expansion as EF-f-F(p—Es,
or as EF-j-/m is to EF, or as is to V in its re¬
gress : and its elastic force to the mean elastic force as
y ^ ^ is to } and that the difference of the elastic
forces existing between E and F, and between F and
G is to the mean elastic force as /c/i—wi is to V j that
is, directly as Clp.
“ But this difference of the elastic forces, existing
between E and F, and between F and G, is the compa¬
rative elastic force by which the physical point pis agi¬
tated : and therefore the comparative accelerating force,
by which every physical point in the medium will con¬
tinue to be agitated both in progress and regress, will
be directly as its distance from the middle point of its .
vibration j and consequently will be such as will cause
the particles to continue their motion undisturbed, ac¬
cording to the law of a cycloidal pendulum. Prop.
38. 1. 1. Newton. Principia.
“ Newton rejects the quantity rprVx IM-f-KN-f.
IMxKN, on supposition that IM and KN are inde¬
finitely less than V. Now, although this may be a
reasonable hypothesis, yet, that this quantity may be
safely rejected, will, I think, appear in a more satisfac¬
tory manner from the following considerations derived
from experiment: PS, in its greatest possible state, is
to V as 1 is to 61.3044 (6) j and therefore IM, or
KN, in its greatest possible state, (that is, when the vi¬
brations of the body are as great as possible, and the
particle in the middle point of its vibration) is to V as
1 is to 122.6. Hence V4=: 15030.76,—V x IM-fKN
=:245.2 and IMxKN~ij therefore Ya is to V1—
V x IM4-KN-f 1M x KN as 15.03076131014786.565
that is, as 61 is to 60 nearly.
“ Hence it appears, that the greatest possible error
in the accelerating force, in the middle point, is the
^Tst part of the whole. In other points it is much
less •, and in the extreme points the error entirely va¬
nishes.
“ We should also observe, that the ordinary sounds
we hear are not produced by the greatest possible vi¬
brations of which the sounding body is capable ; and
that in general IM and KN are nearly evanescent with
respect
Chap. II.
Propaga- i'esPect t° ^ ■ And very probably the disagreeable sen-
tion of sations we feel in very loud sounds, arise not only from
Sound. IM or KN bearing a sensible proportion to V, by which
~v ~ means the cycloidal law of the pulses may be in some
measure disturbed, but also from the very law of the
motion of the sounding body itself being disturbed,
lor the proof of this law’s being observed by an elastic
fibre is founded on the hypothesis that the space, through
which it vibrates, is indefinitely little with respect to
the length of the string. See Smith’’s Harmonics, p. 237.
Helsham, p. 270.
“ 8. If a particle of the medium he agitated accord¬
ing to the law ol a cycloidal pendulum, the compara¬
tive elastic force, acting on the adjacent particle, from
the instant in which it begins to move, will be such as
will cause it to continue its motion according to the
same law.
For let us suppose, that three particles of the me¬
dium had continued to move for times denoted by the
arches PK, PI, PH, the comparative elastic force,
acting on the second during the time of its motion,
would have been denoted by HL—IM, that is, would
have been directly as MO’ (7). And if this time be
diminished till I becomes coincident with P, that is, if
you take the particles in that state when the second is
just beginning to move, and before the third particle
has yet been set in motion ; then the point M will fall
on P, and MO become PO 5 that is, the comparative
elastic force of the second particle, at the instant in
which it begins to move, will be to the force with
which it is agitated in any other moment of time, be¬
fore the subsequent particle has vet been set in mo¬
tion, directly as its distance from the middle point of
vibration. Now this comparative elastic force, with
which the second particle is agitated in the very mo¬
ment in which it begins to move, arises from the pre¬
ceding particle’s approaching it according to the law
of a pendulum and therefore, if the preceding par¬
ticle approaches it in this manner, the force by which
it will be agitated, in the very moment it begins to
move, will be exactly such as should take place in order
to move it according to the law of a pendulum. It
therefore sets out according to that law, and conse¬
quently the subsequent elastic forces generated in every
successive moment, will also continue to be of the just
magnitude which should take place, in order to produce
such a motion.
“ 9. The pulses of the air are propagated from
sounding bodies, according to'the law of a cycloidal
pendulum. rI he point E, fig. 3. of any elastic fibre
producing a sound, may be considered as a particle of
air vibrating according to the law of a pendulum (1).
Ibis point E will therefore move according to this law
for a certain time, denoted by the arch JH, fig. 4.
before the second particle begins to move ; for sound
is propagated in time through the successive particles
of air (4). Now from that instant, the comparative
clastic force which agitates F, is (8) directly as its
distance from the middle point of vibration. F there¬
fore sets out with a motion according to the law of a
pendulum : and therefore the comparative elastic force
by which it will be agitated until G begins to move,
will continue that law (8). Consequently F will
approach G in the same manner as E approached F,
and the comparative elastic force of G, from the in-
ACOUSTIC S.
stant in which it begins to move, will be directlv as
its distance from the middle point of vibration ; and so
on in succession. Therefore all the particles of air in
the pulses successively set out from their proper places
according to the law of a pendulum, and therefore (7)
will finish their entire vibrations accordino- to the same
law.
“ Cor. i. I he number of pulses propagated is the
same with the number of vibrations of the tremulous
body, nor is it multiplied in their progress j because
the little physical line iy, fig. 3. as soon as it returns
to its proper place, will there quiesce : for its velocity,
which is denoted by the sine IM, then vanishes, and
its density becomes the same with that of the ambient
medium. 'Ibis line, therefore, will no longer move,
unless it be again driven forwards by the impulse of the
sounding body, or of the pulses propagated from it.
“ Cor. 2. In the extreme points of the little space
through which the particle vibrates, the expansion of
the air is in its natural state ; for the expansion of the
physical line is to its natural expansion as V—pIM is
to V; but IM is then equal to nothing. In the middle
point of the progress the condensation is greatest: for
IM is then greatest, and consequently the expansion
S—IM least. In the middle of the regress, the rare¬
faction is greatest, for ini, and consequently V-j-im,
is then greatest.
“ 10. To find the velocity of the pulses, the density
and elastic force of the medium being given.
“ This is the 49th Prop. B. II. Newton, in which he
shows, that whilst a pendulum, whose length is equal
to the height of the homogeneous atmosphere, vibrates
once forwards and backwards, the pulses will describe
a space equal to the periphery of a circle described with
that altitude as its radius.
“ Cor. 1. He thence shows, that the velocity of the
pulses is equal to that which a heavy body would ac¬
quire in falling down half the altitude of that homoge¬
neous atmosphere 5 and therefore, that all pulses move
equally fast, whatever be the magnitude of PS, or the
time of its being described ; that is, whether the tone
be loud or low, grave or acute. See Hales de Sonis,
§ 49-
“ Cor. 2. And also, that the velocity of the pulses
is in a ratio compounded of the direct subduplicate ra¬
tio of the elastic force of the medium, and the inverse
subduplicate of its density. Hence sounds move some¬
what faster in summer than in winter. Sec Hales de
Sonis, p. 141.
“ it. The strength of a tone is as the moment of
the particles of air. The moment of these particles
(the medium being given) is as their velocity •, and the
velocity of these particles is as the velocity of the string
which sets them in motion (9). The velocities of two
different strings are equal when the spaces which they
describe in their vibrations are to each other as the
times of these vibrations : therefore, two different tones
are of equal strength, when the spaces, through which
the strings producing them vibrate, are directly as the
times of their vibration.
“ 12. Let the strength of the tones of the two
strings AB, Cl), which differ in tension only (fig. 5.
6.) be equal. Quere the ratio of the inflecting forces
F and j $ From the hypothesis of the equality of the
strength of the tones, it follows (n), that the space
C 2 GE
155
Propaga¬
tion of
Sound.
Velocity oi GE must be to the space HF as to F-^ (Smith's
Sound, Harm. Prop. 24. Cor. 4.). Now the forces inflecting
' AB, CD, through the equal spaces GE, HP, ai'e to
each other as the tending forces, that is, as F to f.
(Malcom's Treatise on Music, p. 52.). But the force
inflecting CD through HP is to the force inflecting it
through HF as HP or GE to HF (ib. p, 47,), that is,
by the hyp. as to F^. Therefore, ex cequo, the forces
inflecting AB and CD, when the tones are equally
strong, are to each other as F x/4- to/xF^, or as 1 J-
to That is, the forces necessary to produce tones
of equal strength in various strings which dift’er only m
tension, are to each other in the subduplicate ratio ot
the tending forces, that is, inversely as the time of one
vibration, or directly as the number of vibrations per¬
formed in a given time. Thus, if CD be the acute
octave to AB, its tending force will be quadruple that
of AB, (Ma!corn's Treatise on Music, p. 53.) : and
therefore to produce tones of equal strength in these
strings, the force impelling CD must be double that
impelling AB ; and so in other cases.
“ Suppose, now, that the strings AB, CD (fig. 6.
7.) differ in length only. The force inflecting AB
through GE is to the tending force, which is given, as
GE to AG; and this tending force is to the force
inflecting CD through the space HP equal to GE, as
HD to HP. Therefore, ex cequo, the forces inflecting
AB and CD through the equal spaces GE and HP,
are to each other as HD to AG, or as CD to AB.
But the force inflecting CD through HP is to the force
inflecting it through HF, as HP or GE to HF, that
is, because these spaces are as the times (11), as AB
to CD. Therefore, ex <rquo, the forces inflecting AB
and CD, when the tones are equally strong, are to each
other in a ratio of equality. Hence we should suppose,
that in this case, an equal number of equal impulses
would generate equally powerful tones in these strings.
But we are to observe, that the longer the string, the
greater, cceterisparibus, is the space through which a
given force inflects it (Malconi) ; and therefore what¬
ever diminution is produced in the spaces through which
the strings move in their successive vibrations, arising
either from the want of perfect elasticity in the strings,
or from the resistance of the air, this diminution will
bear a greater proportion to the less space through
which the shorter string vibrates. And this is confirm¬
ed by experience ; for we find that the duration of the
tone and motion of the whole string exceeds that of any
of its subordinate parts. Therefore, after a given in¬
terval of time, a greater quantity of motion will remain
in the longer string : and consequently, after the suc¬
cessive equal impulses have been made, a greater degree
of motion will still subsist in it. That is, a given num¬
ber of equal impulses being made on various strings dif¬
fering in length only, a stronger sound will be produced
in that which is the longer.”
Chap, III. Of the Vdocity, &c. of Sound. Axioms.
Velocity of By the experiments of some philosophers it has been.
sotnid. pi’oved, that sound travels at about the rate of 1142
feet in a second, or near 13 miles in a minute j nor do
any obstacles hinder its progress, a contrary wind only
a small matter diminishing its velocity. The method
of calculating its progress is easily made known. When
2
a gun is discharged at a distance, we see the fire long Keverbe-
before we hear the sound. If then W’e know the di- rated
stance of the place, and know the time of the interval
between our first seeing the fire and then hearing the It. *
report, this will shew us exactly the time the sound has CH]^n|atC(jbi
been travelling to us. For instance, if the gun is dis¬
charged a mile off, the moment the flash is seen, you
take a watch and count the seconds till you hear the
sound j the number of seconds is the time the sound
has been travelling a mile. Again, By the above
axiom, we are enabled to find the distance between ob¬
jects that would be otherwise immeasurable. For ex-DjstancfJ
ample, suppose you see the flash of a gun in the night calculated j
at sea, and tell seven seconds before you hear the re-by means oj
port, it follows therefore that the distance is seven timessound*
1142 feet, that is, 24 yards more than a mile and a
half. In like manner, if you observe the number of
seconds between the lightning and the report of the
thunder, you know the distance of the cloud from
whence it proceeds.
But according to another philosopher, Dr Thomas
Young, the velocity of sound is not quite so great. “ It
has been demonstrated, he observes, by M. de la Grange
and others, that any impression whatever communicated
to one particle of an elastic fluid, will be transmitted
through that fluid with an uniform velocity, depend¬
ing on the constitution of the fluid, without reference
to any supposed laws of the continuation of that impres¬
sion. Their theorem for ascertaining this velocity is
the same as Newton has deduced from the hypothesis
of a particular law of continuation : but it must be
confessed, that the result differs somewhat too widely
from experiment, to give us full confidence in the per¬
fection of the theory. Corrected by the experiments
of various observers, the velocity of any impression
transmitted by the common air, may, at an average,
be reckoned 1130 feet in a second.” (Phil. Trans.
vol. xc. p. 116.).
Derham has proved by experiment, that all soundsAll sauna:,
whatever travel at the same rate. The sound of a gun travel at
and the striking of a hammer, are equally swift in their
motions j the softest whisper flies as swiftly, as far as
it goes, as the loudest thunder.
To these axioms we may add the following :
Smooth and clear sounds proceed from bodies that
are homogeneous, and of an uniform figure ; and harsh,
or obtuse sounds, from such as are of a mixed matter
and irregular figure.
The velocity of sounds is to that of a brisk wind a&
fifty to one.
The strength of sounds is greatest in cold and dense
aix*, and least in that which is warm and rarefied.
Every point against which the pulses of sound strike,
becomes a centre from which a new series of pulses are>
propagated in every direction.
Sound describes equal spaces in equal times.
Chap. IV„ Of Reverberated Sounds.
Sound, like light, after it has been reflected from
sevei’al places may be collected in one point, as into a
focus ; and it will be there more audible than in any
other part, even than at the place from whence it pro¬
ceeded. On this principle it is that a whispering gal¬
lery is constructed.
The
!hap. IV. A C O U
ererbe- The form of a whispering gallery must be that of a
rated concave hemisphere (e) as ABC, fig. 8.; and if a low
Sounds, sound or whisper be uttered at A, the vibrations ex-
* panding themselves every w’ay will impinge on the
points DDD, &c. and from thence be reflected to
EEE, and from thence to the points F and G, till at
last they all meet in C, where, as we have said, the
sound will be the most distinctly heard.
' faking- The augmentation of sound by means of speaking-
tmpet. trumpets, is usually illustrated in the following manner :
Let ABC, fig. 9. be the tube, BD the axis, and B the
mouth-piece for conveying the voice to the tube.
Then it is evident when a person speaks at B in the
trumpet, the whole force of his voice is spent upon the
air contained in the tube, which will be agitated
through its whole length, and, by various reflections
from the side of the tube to the axis, the air along the
middle part of the tube will be greatly condensed, and
its momentum proportionably increased, so that when it
comes to agitate the air at the orifice of the tube AC,
its force tvill be as much greater than what it would
have been without the tube, as the surface of a sphere,
whose radius is equal to the length of the tube, is greater
than the surface of the segment of such a sphere whose
base is the orifice of the tube. For a person speaking
at B, without the tube, will have the force of his voice
spent in exciting concentric superficies of air all round
the point B j and tvhen those superficies or pulses of
air are diffused as far as D every way, it is plain the
force of the voice will there be diffused through the
whole superficies of a sphere whose radius is BD j but
in the trumpet it will be so confined, that at its exit it
will be diffused through so much of that spherical sur¬
face of air as corresponds to the orifice of the tube.
But since the force is given, its intensity will be always
inversely as the number of particles it has to move ; and
therefore in the tube it will be to that without, as the
superficies of such a sphere to the area of the large end
of the tube nearly.
“ But it is obvious, Dr M. Young observes, that the
confinement of the voice can have little effect in in¬
creasing the strength of the sound, as this strength de¬
pends on the velocity with which the particles move.
Were this reasoning conclusive, the voice should issue
through the smallest possible orifice ; cylindrical tubes
would be preferable to any that increased in diameter ;
and the less the diameter, the greater would be the
effect of the instrument; because, the plate or mass of
air to be moved, would, in that case, be less, and con¬
sequently the effect of the voice the greater j all which
is contradicted by experience.
“ The cause of the increase of sound in these tubes
must therefore be derived from some other principles:
and among these we shall probably find, that what the
ingenious Kircher has suggested in his Phonurgia is the
most deserving of our attention. He tells us, that “ the
augmentation of the sound depends on its reflection
from the tremulous sides of the tube 5 which reflections,.,
conspiring in propagating the pulses in the same direc¬
tion, must increase its intensity.” Newton also seems
S T I C S. 155
to have considered this as 'the principal cause, in the Rcverbe-
scholium ol Prop. 50. B. II. Princip. when he says, rated
“ we hence see why sounds ax-e so much increased in Sounds.
stentorophonic tubes, lor every reciprocal motion is, in v_
each return, increased by the generating cause.
“ Farther, When we speak in the open air, the effect
on the tympanum of a distant auditor is produced mere¬
ly by a single pulse. But when we use a tube, all the
pulses propagated from the mouth, except those in the
direction of the axis, strike against the sides of the tube,
and every point of impulse becoming a new centre, from
whence the pulses are propagated in all directions, a
pulse will arrive at the ear from each of those points j,
thus, by the use of a tube, a greater number of pulses
are propagated to the ear, and consequently the sound
increased. The confinement too of the voice may have
a little eflfect, though not such as is ascribed to it by
some j for the condensed pulses produced by the naked
voice, freely expand every way ; but in tubes, the la¬
teral expansion being diminished, the direct expansion
will be increased, and consequently the velocity of the
particles, and the intensity of the sound. The substance
also of the tube has its effect j for it is found by expe¬
riment, that the more elastic the substance of the tube,
and consequently the more susceptible it is of these tre¬
mulous motions, the stronger is the sound.
“ If the tube be laid on any nonelastic substance, it
deadens the sound, because it prevents the vibratory
motion of the parts. The sound is increased in speaking-
trumpets, if the tube be suspended in the air j because
the agitations are then carried on without interruption.
These tubes should increase in diameter from the mouth¬
piece, because the parts vibrating in directions perpen¬
dicular to the surface will conspire in impelling for¬
ward the particles of air, and consequently, by increas¬
ing their velocity, will increase the intensity of the
sound : and the surface also increasing, the number of
points of impulse and of new propagation will increase
proportionally. The several causes, therefore, of the
increase of sound in these tubes, Dr Young concludes
to be, 1. The diminution of the lateral, and consequent¬
ly the increase of the direct, expansion and velocity of
the included air. 2. The increase of the number of
pulses, by increasing the points of new propagation.
3- The reflections of the pulses from the tremulous sides
of the tube, which impel the particles of air forward,
and thus increase their velocity.” (Enquiry into the
principal Phenomena of Sound, p. 56.)
An echo is a reflection of sound striking against some£c{lte.
object, as an image is reflected in a glass: but it has
been disputed what are the proper qualities in a body
for thus reflecting sounds. It is in general known, that
caverns, grottoes, mountains, and ruined buildings, re¬
turn this reflection of sound. We have heard of a very
extraordinary echo, at a ruined fortress near Louvain,
in Flanders. If a person sung, he only heard his own
voice, without any repetition : on the contrary, those
who stood at some distance heard the echo but not'
the voice 5 but then they heard it with surprising va¬
riations, sometimes louder, sometimes softer, now more
near,
(e) A cylindric or elliptic arch will answer still better than one that is circular.
158
Reverbe- near> m0re d‘stailt* There is an account in the
rated memoirs of the French Academy, of a similar echo near
Sounds. Rouen.
v.».,i,i i |iag ^ee(1 a]rea(]y observed that every point against
which the pulses of sound strike becomes the centre of
a new series of pulses, and sound describes equal di¬
stances in equal times ; therefore, when any sound is
propagated from a centre, and its pulses strike against
a variety of obstacles, if the sum of the right lines drawn
from that point to each of the obstacles, and from each
obstacle to a second point, be equal, then will the lat¬
ter be a point in which an echo will be heard. “ Thus
let A fig. 10. be the point from which the sound is pro¬
pagated in all directions, and let the pulses strike against
the obstacles C, D, E, F, G, H, I, See. each of these
points becomes a new centre of pulses by the first prin¬
ciple, and therefore from each of them one series of
pulses will pass through the point B. Now if the
several sums of the right lines AC-j-CB, AD-f-DC,
AE + EB; AG+GB, AH + HB, AI+IB, &c. be
all equal to each other, it is obvious that the pulses
propagated from A to these points, and again from
these points to B, will all arrive at B at the same in¬
stant, according to the second principle j and there¬
fore, if the hearer be in that point, his ear will at the
same instant be struck by all these pulses. Now it ap¬
pears from experiment (see Musschenbroek, vol. ii.
p. 2X0.), that the ear of an exercised musician can only
distinguish such sounds as follow one another at the
rate of 9 or xo in a second, or any slower rate : and
therefore, for a distinct perception of the direct and
reflected sound, there should intervene the interval of
Jth of a second j but in this time sound describes
■ ~~g'” or 127 feet nearly. And therefore, unless the
sum of the lines drawn from each of the obstacles to
the points A and B exceeds the interval AB by 127
feet, no echo will be heard at B. Since the several
sums of the lines drawn from the obstacles to the points
A and B are of the same magnitude, it appears that
the curve passing through all the points C, D, E, F,
G, H, I, &c. will be an ellipse, (Prop. 14. b. ii.
Ham. Co?i.'). Hence ail the points of the obstacles
which produce an echo, must lie in the surface of the
oblong spheroid, generated by the revolution of this
ellipse round its major axis.
“ As there may be several spheroids of different
magnitudes, so there may be several different echoes of
the same original sound. And as there may happen to
be a greater number of reflecting points in the surface
of an exterior spheroid than in that of an interior, a
second or a third echo may be much more powerful
than the first, provided that the superior number of re¬
flecting points, that is, the superior number of reflected
pulses propagated to the ear, be more than sufficient to
compensate lor the decay of sound which arises from its
being propagated through a greater space. This is
finely illustrated in the celebrated echoes at the lake of
Killarney in Kerry, where the first return of the sound
is much inferior in strength to those which immediately
succeed it.
“ From what has been laid down it appears, that for
the most powerful echo, the sounding body should be
in one focus of the ellipse which is the section of the
Chap. IV
echoing spheroid, and the hearer in the other. Howr- itembe.
ever, an echo may be heard in other situations, though rated
not so favourably; as such a number of reflected pulses bounds,
may arrive at the same time at the ear as may be suffi- v '
cient to excite a distinct perception. Thus a person
often hears the echo of his own voice; but for this pur¬
pose he should stand at least 63 or 64 feet from the re¬
flecting obstacle, according to what has been said be¬
fore. At the common rate of speaking, we pronounce
not above three syllables and a half, that is, seven half
syllables in a second ; therefore, that the echo may re¬
turn just as soon as three syllables are expressed, twice
the distance of the speaker from the reflecting object
must be equal to 1000 feet; for as sound describes
1142 feet in a second, ^ths of that space, that is, 1000
feet nearly, will be described while six half or three
whole syllables are pronounced ; that is, the speaker
must stand near 500 feet from the obstacle. And in
general, the distance of the speaker from the echoing
surface, for any number of syllables, must be equal to
the seventh part of the product of 1142 feet multiplied
by that number.
“ In churches we never hear a distinct echo of the
voice, but a confused sound when the speaker utters
his words too rapidly ; because the greatest difference
of distance between the direct and reflected courses of
such a number of pulses as would produce a distinct
sound, is never in any church equal to 127 feet, the
limit of echoes.
“ But though the first reflected pulses may produce
no echo, both on account of their being too few in
number, and too rapid in their return to the ear ; yet
it is evident, that the reflecting surface may be so
formed, as that the pulses which come to the ear after
two reflections or more, may, after having described
127 feet or more, arrive at the ear in sufficient num¬
bers, and also so nearly at the same instant, as to pro¬
duce an echo, though the distance of the reflecting sur¬
face from the ear he less than the limit of echoes. This
is confirmed by a singular echo in a grotto on the banks
of the little brook called the Dinan, about two miles
from Castlecomber, in the county of Kilkenny. As
you enter the cave, and continue speaking loud, no re¬
turn of the voice is perceived ; but on your arriving at
a certain point, which is not above 14 or 15 feet from
the reflecting surface, a very distinct echo is heard.
Now this echo cannot arise from the first course of pul¬
ses that are reflected to the ear, because the breadth of
the cave is so small, that they would return too quick¬
ly to produce a distinct sensation from that of the ori¬
ginal sound : it therefore is produced by those pulses,
which, alter having been reflected several times from
one side ol the grotto to the other, and having run
over a greater space than 127 feet, arrive at the ear
in considerable numbers, and not more distant from
each other, in point of time, than the ninth part of a
second.”
To what has been said of reflected sounds, we shall
add an extract on the same subject from the ingenious
paper which we have already quoted.
“ M. de la Grange has also demonstrated, that all
impressions are reflected by an obstacle terminating an
elastic fluid, with the same velocity with which they
arrived at that obstacle. When the walls of a passage,
or
ACOUSTICS.
hap. IV. A C O U
naming or of an unfm niched room, are smooth and perfectly pa-
iKItcn- rallel, any explosion, or a stamping with the foot, com-
cts, &c-nmnicates an impression to the air, which is reflected
from one wall to the other, and from the second again
towards the ear, nearly in the same direction with the
primitive impulse : this takes place as frequently in a
second, as double the breadth of the passage is contain¬
ed in 1130 feet ; and the ear receives a perception of
a musical sound, thus determined in its pitch by the
breadth of the- passage. On making the experiment,
the result will be found accurately to agree with this
explanation. If the sound is predetermined, and the fre¬
quency of vibrations such as that each pulse, when doubly
reflected, may coincide with the subsequent impulse pro¬
ceeding directly from the sounding body, the intensity of
the sound will be much increased by the reflection ; and
also, in a less degree, if the reflected pulse coincides
with the next but one, the next but two, or more, of
the direct pulses. The appropriate notes of a room may
readily he discovered by singing the scale in it} and
they will be found to depend on the proportion of its
length or breadth to 1130 feet. The sound of the stop¬
ped diapason pipes of an organ is produced in a man¬
ner somewhat similar to the note from an explosion in
a passage ; and that of its reed pipes to the resonance
of the voice in a room : the length of the pipe in one
case determining the sound 5 in the other, increasing its
strength. The frequency of the vibrations does not at
all immediately depend on the diameter of the pipe. It
must be confessed, that much remains to be done in
explaining the precise manner in which the vibration of
the air in an organ pipe is generated. M. Daniel Ber¬
noulli has solved several difficult problems relating to
the subject; yet some of his assumptions are not only
gratuitous, hut contrary to matter of fact.” (P///7.
Trans, vol. xc. p. 118.)
We shall now close this article with describing a
few inventions founded on some of the preceding prin¬
ciples, which may perhaps amuse and not he altogether
uninstructive to a number of our readers.
Amusing Experiments and Contrivances.
e con- I. Place a concave mirror of about two feet diame-
s*nS ter as AB, fig. 11. in a perpendicular direction. The
tuc' focus of this mirror may be at 15 or 18 inches distance
from its surface. At the distance of about five or six
feet let there be a partition, in which there is an open¬
ing EF, equal to the size of the mirror ; against this
opening must be placed a picture, painted in water
colours, or a thin cloth, that the sound may easily pass
through it (g).
Behind the partition, at the distance of two or three
feet, place another minor GH, of the same size as the
former, and let it be diametrically opposite to it (Ti).
At the point C let there be placed the figure of a
man seated on a pedestal, and let his ear be placed ex-
S T I € S. I5(
actly in the focus of the first mirror : his lower jaw must Amusing
be made to open by a wire, and shut by a spring) and Expen.
there may be another wire to move the eyes: theseiments’ ^c;
wires must pass through the figure, go under the floor, y
and come up behind the partition.
Let a person, properly instructed, be placed behind
the partition near tije mirror. You then propose to
any one to speak softly to the statue, by putting his
mouth to the ear of it, assuring him that it will answer
instantly. You then give the signal to the person be¬
hind the partition, who, by placing his ear to the fo¬
cus I, of the mirror GH, will hear distinctly what the
other said ; and, moving the jaw and eyes of the statue
by the wires, will return an answer directly, w-hich
will in like manner be distinctly heard by the first
speaker.
This experiment appears to be taken from the Cen¬
tury of Inventions of the Marquis of Worcester ; whose
designs, at the time they were published, were treated
with ridicule and neglect as being impracticable, but
are now known to be generally, if not universally, prac¬
ticable. The w'ords of the marquis are these : “ How
to make a brazen or stone head in the midst of a great
field or garden, so artificial and natural, that though a
man speak ever so softly, and even whisper into the ear
thereof, it will presently open its mouth, and resolve
the question in French, Latin, Welsh, Irish, or Eng¬
lish, in good terms, uttering it out of its mouth, and
then shut it until the next question be asked.”—The
two following, of a similar nature, appear to have been
inventions of Kircher, by means of which (as hein-#p
forms us *) he used to “utter feigned and ludicrous ^
consultations, with a view to show the fallacy and im- sect vh
posture of ancient oracles.” c. 1.
II. 1 ..et there be two heads of plaster of Paris, pla-Thg eoni-
ced on pedestals, on the opposite sides of a room. There municative
must Le a tin tube of an inch diameter, that must pass busts,
from the ear of one head, through the pedestal, under
the floor, and go up to the mouth of the other. Ob¬
serve that the end of the tube which is next the ear of
the one iiead, should be considerably larger than that
eud which comes to the mouth of the other. Let the
whole be so disposed that there may not be the least
suspicion of a communication.
Now, when a person speaks quite low, into the ear
of the bust, the sound is reverberated through the
length of the tube, and will be distinctly heard by any
one who shall place bis ear to the mouth of the other.
It is not necessary that the tube should come to the lip&
of the bust.—If there be two tubes, one going to the
ear, and the other to the mouth of each head, two
persons may converse together by applying their mouth
and ear reciprocally to the mouth and ear of the busts j
and at the same time other persons that stand in the
middle of the chamber, between the heads, will not hear
any part of their conversation.
HI. Place a bust on a pedestal in the corner of a The oraca-
room,lar
(g) ihe more effectually to conceal the cause of this illusion, the mirror AB may be fixed in the wainscot,
and a gauze or any other thin covering thrown over it, as that will not in the least prevent the sound from being
reflected. An experiment of this kind may be performed in a field or garden, between two hedges, in one of
which the mirror AB may be placed, and in the other an opening artfully contrived.
(h) Both the mirrors here used may be ci tin or gilt pasteboard, this experiment not requiring such as are
very accurate.
i6o
Amusing
ilxjjeii-
nients; fcc.
ACOUSTICS.
A solar so¬
nata.
Automa¬
tons harp,
sickord.
Acqs.
room, and let there be two tubes, as in the foregoing
amusement, one of which must go from the mouth and
the other from the ear of the bust, through the pe¬
destal and the floor, to an under apartment. There
may be likewise wires that go from the under jaw
and the eyes of the bust, by which they may be easily
moved.
A person being placed in the under room, and at a
signal given applying his ear to one of the tubes, will
hear any question that is asked, and immediately re¬
ply 5 moving at the same time, by means of the wires,
the mouth and the eyes of the bust, as if the reply
came from it.
IV. In a large case, such as is used for dials and
.spring clocks, the front of which, or at least the lower
part of it, must be of glass, covered on the inside with
gauze, let there be placed a barrel organ, which, when
wound up, is prevented from playing, by a catch that
takes a toothed wheel at the end of the barrel. To
one end of this catch there must be joined a wire, at
the end of which there is a flat circle of cork, of the
same dimension with the inside of a glass tube, in which
it is to rise and fall. This tube must communicate
with a reservoir that goes across the front part of the
bottom of the case, which is to be filled with spirits,
such as is used in thermometers, but not coloured, that
it may be the better concealed by the gauze.
This case being placed in the sun, the spirits will be
rarefied by the heat; and rising in the tube, will lift up
the catch or trigger, and set the organ in play : which
it will continue to do as long as it is kept in the sun j
for the spirits cannot run out of the tube, that part of
the catch to which the circle is fixed being prevented
from rising beyond a certain point by a check placed
over it.
When the machine is placed against the side of a
room on which the sun shines strong, it may constantly
remain in the same place, if you enclose it in a second
case, made of thick wood, and placed at a little distance
from the other. When you want it to perform, it will
he only necessary to throw open the door of the outer
case, and expose it to the sun.
J3ut if the machine he moveable, it will perform in all
seasons by being placed before the fire *, and in the win¬
ter it will more readily stop when removed into the cold.
A machine of this sort is said to have been invented
by Cornelius Dreble, in the last century. What the
construction of that was, we know not; it might very
likely be more complex, but could scarcely answer the
intention more readily.
■V. Under the keys of a common harpsichord let
there be fixed a barrel, something like that in a cham¬
ber organ, with stops or pins corresponding to the tunes
you would have it play. These stops must be moveable,
.so that the tunes may be varied at pleasure. From each
of the keys let there go a wire perpendicular down:
Chap, H
the ends of these wires must be turned up for about Amusiu
one-fourth of an inch. Behind these wires let there Expeii
be an iron bar, to prevent them from going too farmeBts &
back. Now, as the barrel turns round, its pins take ' '' v
the ends of the w’ires, which pull down the keys, and
play the harpsichord. The barrel and wires are to be
all enclosed in a case.
In the chimney of the same room where the harpsi¬
chord stands, or at least in one adjacent, there must be
a smoke jack, from whence comes down a wire, or
cord, that, passing behind the wainscot adjoining the
chimney, goes under the floor, and up one of the legs
of the harpsichord, into the case, and round a small
wheel fixed on the axis of that first mentioned. There
should be pulleys at different distances, behind the wain¬
scot and under the floor, to facilitate the motion of the
cord.
This machinery may be applied to any other keyed
instrument as well as to chimes, and to many other pur¬
poses where a regular continued motion is required.
An instrument of this sort may he considered as a
perpetual motion, according to the vulgar acceptation
of the term ; for it will never cease going till the fire
he extinguished, or some parts of the machinery be
worn out.
VI. At the top of a summer-house, or other building, A venter
let there be fixed a vane A B, fig. 12. on which is the symphon
pinion C, that takes the toothed wheel 1), fixed on the
axis EF, which at its other end carries the wheel G,
that takes the pinion H. All these wheels and pinions
are to be between the roof and the ceiling of the build¬
ing. The pinion H is fixed to the perpendicular axis
IK, which goes down very near the wall of the room,
and may be covered after the same manner as are hell-
wires. At the lower end of the axis IK there is a small
pinion L, that takes the wheel M, fixed on the axis of
the great wheel NO. In this wheel there must be placed
a number of stops, corresponding to the tunes it is to
play. These stops are to be moveable, that the tunes
may be altered at pleasure. Against this wheel there
must hang 12 small bells, answering to the notes of the
gamut. Therefore, as the wheel turns round, the stops
striking against the bells play the several tunes. There
should be a fly to the great wheel, to regulate its mo¬
tion when the wind is strong. The wheel NO, and the
hells are to he enclosed in a case.
There may be several sets of bells, one of which may
answer to the tenor, another to the treble, and a
third to the bass; or they may play different tunes, ac¬
cording to the size of the wheel. Instead of bells, glasses
may he here used, so disposed as to move freely at the
stroke of the stops. This machinery may likewise b*
applied to a barrel-organ ; and to many other uses.
A view of the more recent facts and speculations re¬
lating to this difficult branch of science will he found un*
der the article Acoustics in the Supplement.
A C Q
ACQS, in Geography, a town at the foot of the Py¬
renean mountains, in the department of Arriege and
late province of Foix in France. It takes its name
from the hot waters in these parts. E. Long. 1. 45.
N. Lat. 42. 40.
A C Q
ACQUAPENDENTE, a pretty large town ofAcqaapf
Italy, in the territory of the church, and patx-imony of dents
St Peter, with a bishop’s see. It is seated on a moun-
tain, near the river Paglia, ten miles W. of Orvietto,
and 57 N. by W. of Borne. It takes its name from a
fall
ABAC IT S.
PLATE I.
Ej.l.
< l//// (> J)o//>/tu.
T7i 01/ va/tf/s
JT//// <//•<</s
T,;,s
V/zr/s
Erf/. Ui.
X,7/707/77/ //<//. Jooor-f/rr/y /o J/7 Tro/v/oir Aroor /A//// fc JEMbry/zr/. Xott' S/z/Z/r/y /'rz/i//.
Afcon/iny /o . //r/h////7/ / /07/
(?/// Su/A'/rr/y /•'//////
AC OUS TIC S.
Fz //. F
Try. 3.
D I M |
C I III I I I
XMii/AfUX-n/y 7
Pu/rlishrL hi/ j}- Constal/le/ & CfEdinTISFO .
A C R [ i
iapen- Fali of water near it, and is now almost desolate. E.
dente Long. II. 53. N. Lat. 42. 43.
|| ACQUARIA, a small town of Italy, in Frigana, a
^ district of Modena, which is remarkable for its medi-
* cinal waters. It is 18 miles south-west of the city of
Modena. E. Long. 10. 45. N. Lat. 44. 24.
ACQUEST, or Acjkjist, in Law, signifies goods
got by purchase or donation. See Conquest.
ACQUI, a town of Italy, in the duchy of Mont-
ferrat, with a bishop’s see and commodious baths. It
was taken by the Spaniards in 1745, and retaken by
the Piedmontese in 17465 but after this it was taken
again and dismantled by the French, who afterwards
forsook it. It is seated on the river Bormia, 25 miles
north-west of Genoa, and 30 south of Casal. E. Long.
8. 19. N. Lat. 44. 4.
ACQUISITION, in general, denotes the obtaining
or procuring something. Among lawyers, it is used for
the right or title to an estate got by purchase or dona¬
tion.
ACQUITTAL, a discharge, deliverance, or set¬
ting of a person free from the guilt or suspicion of an
otfence.
ACQUITTANCE, a release or discharge in writ¬
ing for a sum of money, witnessing that the party has
paid the said sum.—No man is obliged to pay a sum of
money if the demandant refuses to give an acquittance,
which is a full discharge, and bars all actions, &c. An
acquittance given by a servant for a sum of money re¬
ceived for the use of his master, shall be a good dis¬
charge for that sum, provided the servant used to re¬
ceive his master’s rents, debts, &c.
ACRA, a town of Africa, on the coast of Guinea,
where the English, Dutch, and Danes, have strong forts,
and each fort has its particular village. W. Long,
o. 2. N. Lat. 3. o.
Acra, in Ancient Geography, one of the hills of Je¬
rusalem, on which stood the lower town, which was the
old Jerusalem 5 to which was afterwards added Zion,
or the city of David. Probably called Acra, from
the fortress which Antiochus built there in order to
annoy the temple, and which Simon Maccabaeus took
and razed to the ground.
Acra Japygia, in Ancient Geography, called Salentia
by Ptolemy ; now Capo di San Maria di Leuca: A
promontory in the kingdom of Naples, to the south-east
of Otranto, where formerly was a town, now lying in
ruins, on the Ionian sea, over against the Montes Acro-
ceraunii of Epirus.
ACRiE, in Ancient Geography, a town of Sicily,
whose inhabitants were called Acr'emes. It stood to the
south of Syracuse, at the distance of 24 miles, near the
place now called the monastery of Santa Maria d'Ar-
on an eminence, as appears from Silius Italicus.
Ihe Syracusans were the founders of it, according to
Thucydides, 70 years after the building of Syracuse, or
665 before Christ. Hence the epithet Acrceus.
ACRAGAS, or Agragas, in Ancient Geography,
so called by the Greeks, and sometimes by the Romans,
“r Q™?re £enerally Agrigentum by the latter 5 a town
of Sicily. In Greek medals the inhabitants are called
AKPirANTIKOI, and Agrigentini by Cicero. The
town stood upon a mountain, at the confluence of the
Acragas and Hypsa, near the port called Hpnopur by
Ptolemy, but E;ws<«y or the Dock, by Strabo 5 and in
VOL. I. Part I. 4
6l ] A C R
the time of the latter, scarce a trace of all that side
remained. In the year before Christ 584, the people
of Gela built Acragas, 108 years after building their
own city. It took its name from the river running by
it 5 and being but two miles from the sea, enjoyed the
conveniences of a sea port. It was a place of great
strength, standing on the top of a very steep rock, and
washed on the south side by the river Acragas, now cal¬
led Fiume di Gergenti, and on the south-west by the
Hypsa, with a citadel to the south-east, externally sur¬
rounded by a deep gulf, which made it inaccessible but
on the side next the town. It was famous for the ty¬
rant Phalaris and his brazen bull. The Agrigentines
were a people luxurious in their tables, and magnificent
in their dwellings 5 of whom Empedocles, in Diogenes
Laertius, says, that they lived to-day as if they were to
die to-morrow, and built as if they were to live*for ever.
The country round the city was laid out in vine and
olive yards, in the produce of which they carried on a
great and profitable commerce with Carthage. E. Long.
13. 30. N. Lat. 37. 20.
ACRAMAR, or Van, in Geography, a town and lake
of the greater Armenia in Asia. The town, which is
large, populous, and commercial, is the capital of the
government of Van, is situated at the foot of the moun¬
tains of Diarbekir, and is said to have been built by Se-
miramis. Fhe lake abounds with fish. There are two
islands in it which are inhabited by religious Arme*-
nians. E. Long. 42. 50. N. Lat. 38. 2.
ACRASIA, among physicians, implies the predomi¬
nancy of one quality above another, either with regard
to artificial mixtures, or the humours of the human
body. Ihe word is Greek, and compounded of & pri¬
vative, and xegxpyvpt, to mix ; q. d. not mixed in a just
proportion.
ACRASUS, in Ancient Geography, a town of Asia
Minor in Lydia. Some imperial Greek medals of this
city still exist, which were struck under the praetors in
honour of Severus, and several other emperors.
ACRATH, in Ancient Geography, a place in Mau¬
ritania Tingitana, now supposed to be Veleoz de Goma-
ra: k. fortified town in the kingdom of Fez, with a
citadel and commodious harbour on the Mediterranean,
scarce a mile distant from Penon de Velez, a Spanish
fort* W. Long. 5. N. Lat. 34. 45.
ACRE, or Acra, in Geography, a sea-port town
in Syria. It was formerly called Ptolemais, from one
of the Ptolemies : and Acra on account of its fortifica¬
tions ; whence the knights of St John of Jerusalem cal¬
led it St John d’Acre. This city was successively un¬
der the dominion of the Romans and the Moors 5 and
was famous in the time ot the crusades, and underwent
several sieges both by the Christians and Saracens. It
is situated at the north angle of a bav, which extends
in a semicircle of three leagues, as far as the point of
Carmel.
During the crusades, the possession of this town was
long disputed by the Christians and Saracens. In 1192
it was taken from the latter by Richard I. of England
and Philip of France, after a siege of two years, and
the slaughter of 100,coo Christians, beside a greater
number who perished by shipwreck or disease, who
gave it to the knights of St John of Jerusalem. They
kept possession of it 100 years, when it was retaken by
the Saracens, and almost entirely destroyed. This
X event
A C R [ 162 ] A e R
event is rendered memorable by an act of singular re¬
solution with which it was accompanied, A number
of beautiful young nuns, terrified at the prospect of
beino- exposed to the brutal lust of the infidels, deter¬
mined to avoid the violation of their chastity, by ren¬
dering themselves objects of aversion. With this view
they cut off their noses and mangled their faces. The
Saracens, inflamed with resentment at a spectacle which
prevented the gratification of their appetites, imme¬
diately put them all to the sword, After the expulsion
of the crusaders, it remained almost deserted till about
the year 1750, when it was fortified by Daher, an
Arabian scheik, who maintained his independence
against the Ottoman power, till the year 1775, when
he was basely assassinated by the emissaries of that go¬
vernment at the age of 86 years. He was adored by
his people, whom his prudence and valour had through
life projected against the tyranny and oppression of the
pacha. More lately the works erected by Hjezzar,
within the last ten years, have rendered it one of the
principal towns upon the coast. The mosque of this
pacha is boasted as a masterpiece of eastern taste. The
bazar, or covered market, is not inferior even to those
of Aleppo ; and its public fountain surpasses in elegance
those of Damascus, though the water is of a very indif¬
ferent quality. The pacha has derived the more ho¬
nour from these works, as he was himself both the en¬
gineer and architect: he formed the plans, drew the
designs, and superintended the execution.
The port of Acre is one of the best situated on the
coast, as it is sheltered from the north and north- west
winds by the town itself 5 but it is greatly choked tip
since the time of Fakr-el-din. Djezzar contented him¬
self with making a landing place for boats. The for¬
tifications, though more frequently repaired than any
other in all Syria, are of no importance : there are
only a few wretched low towers near the port, on which
cannon are mounted ; and these rusty iron pieces axe
so bad, that some of them burst every time they are
fired. Its defencd on the land side is merely a garden
wall without any ditch.
In the year 1799 Acre was again the scene of war,
when it was bravely defended by our gallant country¬
man Sir Sidney Smith, against the military skill and
extraordinary exertions of Bonaparte, and some of hi?
ablest generals. The pacha Djezzar was preparing to
evacuate the place, and make good bis retreat with
his women and treasure, when Sir Sidney with his
squadron anchored in the road of Caiffa. The foi’tifi-
cations were repaired under the direction of a skilful
engineer, which, with the assistance of the English ma-
I'ines, encouraged and animated the pacha to hold out.
After the French had renewed and varied the attack,
and been as often repulsed with great slaughter, Bo¬
naparte, despamng of success, raised the siege on the
20th of May, the 01st day after breaking ground.
Corn and cotton form the basis of the commerce of
Acre, which is becoming moi-e flourishing every day.
Of late, the pacha, by an abuse common throughout
all the Turkish empire, has monopolized all the trade
in his own hands, no cotfon can be sold but to him,
and from him every purchase must be made. In vain
have the European merchants claimed the privileges,
granted them by the sultan $ Djezzar replied, that lie
was the sultan in his country, and continued his mo-
■ 2
nopoly. The merchants were generally Fi'ench, and
they had six houses at Acre, -with a consul. The con¬
dition of the inhabitants has been much improved since
the death of Djezzar, his successor Suleiman being a
mild and pacific man.
That part of the bay of Acre in which ships anchor
with the greatest security lies to the north of Mount
Carmel, below the village of Haifa (commonly called
Caijj'a). The bottom is good holding ground, and
does not chafe the cables ; but the harbour is open to
the north-west wind, which blows violently along all
this coast. Mount Carmel, which commands it to the
south, is a flattened cone, and very i-ocky j it is about
1000 feet high. We still find among the brambles
wild vines and olive trees, which piove that industry
has formerly been employed even in this ungrateful
soil : on the summit is a chapel dedicated to the pro¬
phet Elias, which affords an extensive prospect oyer the
sea and land. It is 20 miles south of Tyre, and 37
north of Jerusalem. E. Long. 39. 25. N. Lat. 32. 40.
Acre, in the Mogul’s dominions, the same with
lack, and signifies the sum of zoo,000 rupees j the ru¬
pee is of the value of the French crown of three livres,
or 30 sols of Holland j zoo lacks of rupees make a
coui'on in Hindostan, or zo,000,000 rupees : the pound
sterling is about eight rupees j according to which pi’o-
portion, a lack of rupees amounts to z 2,500k sterling.
Acre, the universal measure of land in Britain.
The word (formed from the Saxon acker, or the Ger¬
man aker, a field), did not originally signify a deter-,
minate quantity of land, but any open ground, espe¬
cially a wide champaign 5 and in this antique sense it
seems to be preserved in the names of places, as Castle-
acre, West-acre, &c. An acre in England contains
four square roods, a rood 40 perches or poles of z6£
feet each by statute. Yet this measure does not pre¬
vail in all parts of England, as the length of the pole
varies in different counties, and is called customary
measure, the difference running from the z6J feet to 28.
The acre is also divided into zo squai’e chains, of 22
yards each, that is, 4840 square yards. An acre in
Scotland contains four square imods ; one square rood
is 40 square falls; one square fall, 36 square ells 5 one
square ell, nine squai’e feet and 73 square inches j one
square foot| 144 square inches. The Scots acre is also
divided into zo squai’e chains*, the measuring chain
should be 24 ells in length, divided into zoo links,
each link 8T%Vo- inches j and so one square chain will
contain zo,coo square links. The English statute acre
is about three roods and six falls standard measure of
Scotland. ,
The French acre, arpcnt, contains z^ English acre,
or 54,450 squai’e English feet, whereof the English
acre contains only 43,560.—The Strasburg acre is
about half an English acre.—The Welsh acre contains
commonly two English ones.—The Irish acre is equal
to one acre two roods and 19 perches AW English.
Acre-Fight, an old sort of duel fought by English
and Scottish combatants, between the frontiers of their
kingdoms, with sword and lance: it was also called
camp-fight, and the combatants champions, from the-
open field being the stage of trial.
Acre-Tux, a tax laid on land at so much per acre.
In some places this is also called acre-shot. Impositions
on lands in the great level are to be raised by a pro¬
portionable
Lib. Hi.
nd xxxix.
Iso Stra-
?, lib. xvi.
a c n [ t
portionaWe acre-tax, 20 Car. II. cap. 8.-—An acre-
tax of 2s. 6d. per acre, for draining Hadenham-level,
13 Geo. I. cap. 18.
ACRIBEIA, a term purely Greek, literally denot¬
ing an exquisite or delicate accuracy ; Sometimes used
in our language, for want of a word of equal significa¬
tion.
ACRID, a name for any thing that is of a sharp or
pungent taste. See Materia Medica.
ACRIDOPHAGI, in Ancient Geography, an Ethi¬
opian people, represented as inhabiting,.near the de¬
serts, and to have fed on locusts. This latter circum¬
stance their name imports ; the word being compound¬
ed of the Greek locust, and (pctyu to eat. We
have the following account of them by Diodorus Si¬
culus *. Their stature was lower than that of other
men ; they were meagre, and extremely black. In the
spring, high west winds drove from the desert to their
quarter locusts of an extraordinary size, and remarkable
for the squalid colour of their wings. So great was
the number of these insects, that they were the only
sustenance of the barbarians, who took them in the fol¬
lowing manner: At the distance of some stadia from
their habitations there was a wide and deep valley.
They filled this valley with wood and wild herbs, with
which their country abounded. When the cloud of
locusts appeared, which waS driven on by the wind,
they set fire to the fuel which they had.collected. The
smoke which arose from this immense fire was so thick,
that the locusts in crossing the valley, were stilled by
it, and fell in heaps on the ground. The passage of
the locusts being thus intercepted for many days, they
made a large provision of those insects. As their coun¬
try produced great quantities of salt, they salted them,
to render them more palatable, and to make them keep
till the next season. This peculiar supply was their
sole food : they had neither herds nor flocks. They
were unacquainted with fishing j for they lived at a di¬
stance from the sea. They were very active, and ran
with great swiftness. But their life wis not of long
duration ; it exceeded net forty years. The close of
their life was extremely miserable j for in their old
age, winged lice df different, but all of ugly forms,
bred in their bodies. This malady, which began in
the breast and belly, soon spread through the whole
frame. The patient at first felt an itching ; and the
agreeable sensation produced by his scratching of him¬
self, preceded a most deplorable calamity. For when
those lice, which had bred in his body, forced their
way out, they caused effusions of corrupt blood, with
excruciating pains in the skin.- The unhappy man,
with lamentable cries, was industrious himself to make
passages for them with his nails. In short these lice
issued forth successively from the wounds made by the
hands of the patient, as from a vessel full of holes, and
in such numbers that it was impossible to exterminate
them.—Whether this extraordinary and dreadful dis¬
temper was occasioned by the food of the inhabitants
of this country,^ or by a pestilential quality of their
climate, it is difficult to determine. Indeed, as to the
credibility of the whole account, ive must leave the
reader to judge.
But though the circumstances of these people should
be deemed fabulous, yet may the acridophagia be true.
It is well known, that to this day the inhabitants of
63 ]
A C It
Ethiopia, Arabia, &c. frequently use locusts for food. Aeridoplia-
Ihe reader will not be displeased if we lay before him &i-
the result of Dr Hasselquist’s inquiries as to this parti- v1
cular, who travelled in Syria and Egypt so late as the
year iyj2. This ingenious gentleman, who travelled
with a view to improve natural history, informs us,
that he asked I ranks, and many bther people who had
lived long in these countries, whether they had ever
heard that the inhabitants of Arabia, Ethiopia, &c.
used locusts as food P They answered that they had.
He likewise asked the same question of Armenians,
Copts, and Syrians, who lived in Arabia, and had
travelled in Syria, and near the Red sea ; some of whom
said they heard of such a practice, and others that they
had often seen the people eat these insects. He at last
obtained complete satisfaction on this head from a
learned scheik at Cairo, who had lived six years in
Mecca. This gentleman told him, in presence ofM.
le Grand the principal French interpreter at Cairo, and
others, that a famine frequently rages at Mecca when
there is a scarcity of corn in Egypt, which obliges the
inhabitants to live upon coarser food than ordinary ■:
That when corn is scarce, the Arabians grind the lo¬
custs in hand mills, or stone mortars, and bake them
into cakes, and use these cakes instead of bread : That
he has frequently seen locusts used by the Arabians,
even when there was no scarcity of corn; but then
they boil them, stew them with butter, and make them
into a kind of fricassee ; which he says is not disagree¬
ably tasted, for he had sometimes tasted these locust
fricassees out of curiosity.
A later traveller, Dr Sparrman, informs vls *,* Voyage to
“ That locusts sometimes afford a high treat to the ^
more unpolished and remote hordes of the Hottentots j vol•i•
when, as sometimes happens, after an interval of 8, 10,
15, or 20 years, they make their appearance in incre¬
dible numbers. At these times they come from the
north, migrating to the southward, and do not suffer
themselves to be impeded by any obstacles, but fly bold¬
ly on, and are drowned in the sea whenever they come
to it. The females of this race of insects, which are
most apt to migrate, and are chiefly eaten, are said not
to lie able to fly ; partly by reason of the shortness of
their wings, and partly on account of their beinff hea¬
vy and distended with eggs; and shortly after they have
laid these in the sand, they are said to die. It is parti¬
cularly of these that the Hottentots make a brown cof¬
fee-coloured soup, which at the same time acquires
from the eggs a fat and greasy appearance. The Hot¬
tentots are highly rejoiced at the arrival of these lo¬
custs, though they are sure to destroy every bit of ver- *
dure on the ground : but the Hottentots make them¬
selves ample amends for this loss, by falling foul on the
animals themselves, eating them in such quantities as in
the space of a few days to get visibly fatter and in bet¬
ter condition than before.”
The Abbe Poiret, also, in his Memoir on the Insects
of Barbary and Numidia, informs us, “ That the Moors
make locusts a part of their food; that they go to hunt
them ; fry them in oil and butter ; and sell them pub¬
licly at Tunis, at Bonne,” &c.
_ From these accounts, we may see the folly of that
dispute among the divines about the nature of St John’s
food in the wilderness: some maintaining the original1
word to signify the fruits of certain trees; others, a kind
X 2 of '
A C R • L 164 ] ACE
Acridopha-°f &c. : but those who adhered to the literal
gi meaning oi‘ the text were at least the most orthodox,
li although their arguments were perhaps not so strong
A probates. as might have been, had they had an opportunity
of quoting such authors as the above.
ACRIT- months, in Ancient Geography, mountains
in the island of Sicily which are also called Hercei.
ACRILLJE, a city of Sicily between Aciae and
Agrigentum, not far from Syracuse, supposed to be
the same with Acila which is mentioned by Plu¬
tarch.
ACRISIUS, in fabulous history, king of Argos, be¬
ing told by the oracle that he should be killed by his
grandchild, shut up his only daughter Danae in a bra¬
zen tower: but Jupiter coming down in a golden
shower, begot Perseus upon her. After Perseus had
slain the Gorgons, he carried Medusa’s head to Argos j
which Acrisius seeing, wTas turned into a statue.
ACR1STIA, in Geography, a town of Sicily, 23
miles west-north-west of Magara. It is built on the
ruins of the ancient town of Schritea.
ACR1TAS, in Ancient Geography, a promontory of
Messenia, running into the sea, and forming the begin¬
ning of the bay of Messene. Now called Capo de
Gallo, between Methone to the west, and Corone to the
east, where the Sinus Coronaeus begins.
ACROA MATIC, or Acroatic, in general, de¬
notes a thing sublime, profound, or abstruse.
ACROAMATICI, a denomination given to the dis¬
ciples or followers of Aristotle, &c. who were admit¬
ted into the secrets of the inner or acroamatic philoso-
phy.
AGROATHOUM, or Acrothoum, in Ancient
Geography, a town situated on the top of Mount
Athos, where the inhabitants, according to Mela, were
longer lived by half than in any other country} called
by the modern Greeks, Ayi«» j by the Italians La
Cinia di Monte Santo.
ACROATIC is a name given to Aristotle’s lec¬
tures to his disciples, which were of two kinds, exoteric
and acroatic. The acroatic were those to which only
his own disciples and intimate friends were admitted j
whereas the exoteric were public and open to all.
But there are other differences. The acroatic were
set apart for the higher and more abstruse subjects j
the exoteric were employed in rhetorical and civil spe¬
culations. Again, The acroatics were more subtle and
exact, evidence and demonstration being here aimed
at 5 the exoterics chiefly aimed at the probable and
plausible. The former were the subject of the morning
exercises in the Lyceum, the latter of the evenings.
Besides, the exoterics were published: whereas the
acroatics were kept secret •, being either entirely con¬
cealed, or, if they were published, it was in such ob¬
scure terms, that few but his own disciples could be
the wiser for them. Hence, when Alexander com¬
plained of his preceptor for publishing his acroatics,
and thus revealing what should have been reserved to
his disciples, Aristotle answered, that they were made
public and not public •, for that none who had not heard
them explained by the author viva voce, could under¬
stand them.
ACROBATES, in antiquity, were rope-dancers
who performed various feats by vaulting or tumbling
a rope $ sliding down on a rope from a lofty station
with arms and legs extended, in imitation of flying ; Acrolai
and running, dancing, and leaping, on a rope stretched ||
horizontally. Aer«nisf
ACROBATIC A, or Acrobaticum, from '"’""Y’-
high, and /Bale*, or (Zxna, I go; an ancient engine
whereby people were raised aloft, that they might see
more conveniently about them. The acrobatica among
the Greeks amounted to the same with what they call
scansorium among the Latins. Authors are divided as
to the use of this engine. Turnebus and Barbarus take
it to have been of the military kind, raised by besiegers,
high enough to overlook the walls, and discover the
state of things on the other side. Baldus rather sup¬
poses it a kind of moveable scaffold, or cradle, contrived,
for raising painters, plasterers, and other workmen, to
the tops of houses, trees, &c. Some suspect that it
might have been used for both purposes $ which is the
opinion of Vitruvius and Aquinas.
ACROCERAUNIA, or Montes Ceraunii, in
Ancient Geography, mountains running out into the sea
(so called from their being often thunderstruck), sepa¬
rating the Ionian sea from the Adriatic $ where Illyria
ends and Epirus begins: now called Monti della Chi¬
mera.
ACROCHERISMUS, among the Greeks, a sort
of gymnastic exercise, in which the two combatants
contended with their hands and fingers only, without
closing or engaging the other parts of the body.
ACROCORINTHUS, in Ancient Geography, a high
and steep hill, hanging over the city of Corinth, which
was taken within the w'alls, as an acropolis, or citadel.
On its top stood a temple of Venus j and lower down
issued the fountain Pritne.
ACROMION, in Anatomy, the upper part of the
scapula or shoulder blade. See Anatomy.
ACROMONOGRAMMATICUM, in Poetry, a
kind of poem, wherein every subsequent verse begins
with the letter wherewith the immediately preceding
one terminated.
ACRON, a celebrated physician of Agrigentum, in
Sicily, who lived about the middle of the filth century
before Christ. He first thought of lighting large fires,,
and purifying the air with perfumes, to put a stop to.
the pestilence that ravaged Athens, and which was at¬
tended with success. He wrote two treatises, accord¬
ing to Suidas, in the Doric dialect $ the one on physic,
and the other on abstinence or diet.
Acron, in Geography, a territory on the Gold coast
of Guinea, in Africa, bordering on the Fantynean
country. The Dutch have a fort here called Fort Pa¬
tience } and under it is a village, inhabited only by,
fishermen. I lie other inhabitants are addicted to hus¬
bandry, and sell their corn to other countries. There
is plenty ot game, which is very commodious for the
Dutch factory. I he people are very ignorant, and go
naked like the rest of the negroes. This is called Lit¬
tle Acron ; for Great Acron is farther inland, and is
a kind of a republic.
ACRONICAL, Achronycal, or Achronical,
in Astronomy, is a term applied to the rising of a star,
when the sun is set in the evening 5 but has been pro¬
miscuously used to express a star’s rising at sunset, or
setting at sunrise.
ACRONIUS lacus (Mela) j a small lake formed
by the Rhine, soon after its rise out of the Alps, and
aftev
Aeremus
II
Acrostoli
A C K f i
after passing the greater lake at Constance, called Ve-
netus, and now the Bodcn%ee, or lake of Constance.
ACROPOLIS, in Ancient Geography, the citadel,
and one of the divisions of Athens5 called Polls, because
constituting the first and original city j and the Upper
Pol is, to distinguish it from the lower, which was af¬
terwards built round it in a large open plain, the Acro¬
polis standing on a rock or eminence in the heart of
this plain ; and hence its name: To the north it had a
wall built by the Pelasgi, and therefore called Pelasgic ;
and to the south a wall, by Cimon the son of Miltiades,
out of the Persian spoils, many ages after the building
of the north wall. It had nine gates, and was there¬
fore called liwo/iy/ow; yet but one principal gate or
entrance, the ascent to which was by a flight of steps
of white marble, built in a magnificent manner by Pe¬
ricles, (Plutarch).
ACROPOLITA, George, one of the waiters in
the Byzantine history, was born at Constantinople, in
the year 1220, and educated at the court of the em¬
peror John Lucas at Nice. He was employed in the
most important affairs of the empire ; being sent am¬
bassador to Larissa, to establish a peace with Michael
of Epirus j and was constituted judge to try Michael
Comnenus, who was suspected of engaging in a con¬
spiracy. Theodorus Lascaris, the son of John, whom
he had taught logic, appointed him governor of all the
western provinces in his empire. In i 255, he was taken
prisoner in a war with Michael Angelas ; but gaining
his liberty in 1260, by means of the emperor Palaeo-
logus, he was sent by him ambassador to Constantine
prince of Bulgaria 5 and was employed in several other
negotiations. He wrote, A Continuation of the Greek
History, from the taking of Constantinople by the La¬
tins till it was recovered by Michael Palaeologus in
1261, which makes part of the Byzantine history; A
Treatise concerning Faith, Virtue, and the Soul ; An
Exposition of the Sermons of St Gregory Nazianzen,
and other pieces. Gregory Cyprian, patriarch of Con¬
stantinople, in his encomium upon him, prefixed to
Acropolita’s history, is perhaps somewhat extravagant
in his praise, when he says he was equal to Aristotle
in philosophy, and to Plato in the knowledge of divine
things and Attic eloquence.
ACROSPIRE, a vulgar term for what botanists call
the plumes.
ACROSPIREL, in malt-making, is the grain’s
shooting' both at the root and blade end.
ACROSTIC, in Poetry, a kind of poetical compo¬
sition, disposed in such a manner, that the initial let¬
ters of the verses form the name of some person, king¬
dom, place, motto, &c. The word is compounded
of the Greek extremity, and verse. The
acrostic is considered by the critics as a species of false
wit, and is therefore very little regarded by the mo¬
derns.
ACROSTICHUM, Rustyback, Wall-rue, or
Fork-Fern. See Botany Index.
ACROSTOL1UM, in ancient naval architecture,
the extreme part of the ornament used on the prows
of ships, which was sometimes in the shape of a buckler,
helmet, animal, &c. but more frequently circular, or
spiral. It was usual to tear them from the prows of
vanquished vessels, and fix them to the conquerors, as a
Act.
65 ] ACT
signal of victory. They were frequently represented Aero;to¬
on the reverse of ancient medals. lium
ACROl ELEUTIC, among ecclesiastic writers, an
appellation given to any thing added to the end of a
psalm ; as the Gloria Patrr, or Loxology*
ACROTERI, in Geography, a small town in the
island of Santonin. iN. Lat. ^6. 2jj. E. Long. 26. 1,
ACROTERIA, in Architecture, small pedestals,
usually without bases, anciently placed at the middle
or two extremes of pediments or frontispieces, serving
to support the statues, &c. It also signifies the figures
placed as ornaments on the tops of churches, and the
sharp pinnacles that stand in ranges about flat buildings
with rails and balusters.
Among ancient physicians, it signified the larger ex¬
tremities of the body, as the head, hands, and feet. It
has also been used for the tips of the fingers, and some¬
times for the eminences or processes of bones.
ACROl HVMION, from extreme, and 6vp»s,
thyme. A sort of wart described by Celsus as hard and
rough, with a narrow basis and broad top ; the top is
of the colour of thyme ; it easily splits and bleeds.
This tumour is also called thymus.
ACT, in general, denotes the exertion of power 5
and differs from power, as the effect from the cause.
Act, in Logic, is particularly understood of an ope¬
ration of the human mind. Thus to discern ,and exa¬
mine, are acts of the understanding; to judge and af¬
firm, are acts of the will. There are voluntary and
spontaneous acts; the former are produced by the
operation of the soul, the latter without its privity or
participation.
Act, in the universities, signifies a thesis maintained
in public by a candidate for a degree ; or to show the
capacity and proficiency of a student. The candidates
for a degree of bachelor and master of arts are to hold
philosophical acts ; and those for bachelor of divinity,
theological acts, &c. At Oxford, the time when ma¬
sters or doctors complete their degrees, is also called the
act; which is held with great solemnity. At Canv-
bridge, they call it the commencement.
Act of Faith, Auto da Fe, in the Romish church,
is a solemn day held by the inquisition, for the punish¬
ment of heretics, and the absolution of the innocent
accused *. They usually contrive the Auto to fall on * See In*
some great festival, that the execution may pass with quisitiun^.
the more awe and regard ; at least it is always on a
Sunday.
The Auto da Fe may be called the last act of the
inquisitorial tragedy ; it is a kind of gaol-delivery, ap¬
pointed as oft as a competent number of prisoners in
the inquisition are convicted of heresy, either by their
own voluntary or extorted confession, or on the evi¬
dence of certain witnesses. The process is thus : In the
morning they are brought into a great hall, where
they have certain habits put on, which they are to wear
in the procession. The procession is led up byLomi-
nican friars ; after which come the penitents, some with
san-benitoes, and some without, according to the na¬
ture of their crimes ; being all in black coats without
sleeves, and barefooted, with a wax candle in their
hands. These are followed by the penitents who have
narrowly escaped being burnt, who over their black
coats have flames painted with their points turned down¬
wards,,.
ACT
wards, Fuegorrevolto. Next come the negative and
relapsed, who are to be burnt, having flames on their
habits pointing upwards. After these come such as pro¬
fess doctrines contrary to the faith of Rome, who, be¬
sides flames pointing upwards, have their picture paint¬
ed on their breasts, with dogs, serpents, and devils, all
open-mouthed, about it. Each prisoner is attended
with a familiar of the inquisition; and those to be burnt
have also a Jesuit on each hand, who are continually
preaching to them to abjure. After the prisoners comes
a troop of familiars on horseback ; and after them the
inquisitors, and other officers of the court, on mules;
last of all, the inquisitor-general on a white horse, led
by two men with black hats and green hat-bands. A
scaffold is erected in the Tcrriero dePaco, big enough
for two or three thousand people ; at one end of which
are the prisoners, at the other the inquisitors. After
a sermon made up of encomiums of the inquisition, and
invectives against heretics, a priest ascends a desk near
the middle of the scaffold, and having taken the abjura¬
tion of the penitents, recites the final sentence of those
who are to be put to death; and delivers them to the
secular arm, earnestly beseeching at the same time the
secular power not to touch their blood, or put their
lives in danger. The prisoners being thus in the hands
of the civil magistrate, are presently loaded with chains,
and carried first to the secular gaol, and from thence in
an hour or two brought before the civil judge ; who,
after asking in what religion they intend to die, pro¬
nounces sentence, on such as declare they die in the
communion of the church of Rome, that they shall be
first strangled, and then burnt to ashes ; on such as die
in any other faith, that they be burnt alive. Roth are
immediately carried to the Ribera, the place of execu¬
tion; where there are as many stakes set up as there
are prisoners to be burnt, with a quantity of dry furze
about them. The stakes of the professed, that is, such
as persist in their heresy, are about four yards high,
having a small board towrards the top for the prisoner
to be seated on. The negative and relapsed being first
strangled and burnt, the professed mount their stakes
by a ladder; and the Jesuits, after several repeated ex¬
hortations to be reconciled to the church, part with
them, telling them they leave them to the devil, who
is standing at their elbow to receive their souls, and
carry them w’ith him into the flames of hell. On this
a great shout is raised ; and the cry is, Let the dogs
beards be made; which is done by thrusting flaming
furzes fastened to long poles against their faces, till
their faces are burnt to a coal, which is accompanied
with the loudest acclamations of joy. At last, fire is set
to the furze at the bottom of the stake, ove/ which the
professed are chained so high, that the top of the flame
seldom reaches higher than the seat they sit on ; so that
they rather seem roasted than burnt. There cannot
be a more lamentable spectacle ; the sufferers conti¬
nually cry out, while they are able, Misericordia per
aj?ior de Dios, “ Pity for the love of God !” yet it is
beheld by all sexes and ages with transports of joy and
satisfaction.
Act, in dramatic poetry, signifies a certain division
or part of a play, designed to give some respite both
to the actors and spectators. The Romans were the
first who divided their theatrical pieces into acts; for
no such divisions appear in the works of the first dra-
ACT
matic poets. Their pieces indeed consisted of several ^
parts or divisions, which they called protasis, epitasis, Acta,
catastasis, and catastrophe; but these divisions were not
marked by any real interruptions in the theatre. Nor
does Aristotle mention any thing of acts in his Art of
Poetry. But, in the time of Horace, all regular and
finished pieces were divided into five acts.
Neve minor, neu sit quinio productior actu
Eabida, qiue posci vult, et spectata reponi.
If you wmuld have your play deserve success,
Give it five acts complete, nor more nor less.
Francis,
The first act, according to some critics, besides in¬
troducing upon the stage the principal characters of the
play, ought to propose the argument or subject of the
piece ; the second, to exhibit this to the audience, by
carrying the fable into execution ; the third, to raise ob¬
stacles and difficulties ; the fourth, to remove these, or
raise new ones in the attempt; and the fifth, to con¬
clude the piece, by introducing some accident that may
unravel the whole affair. This division, however, is
not essentially necessary ; but may be varied according
to the humour of the author, or the nature of the sub¬
ject. See Poetry.
Act of Grace. See Grace.
Act, among lawyers, is an instrument in writing
for declaring or justifying the truth of any thing. In
which sense, records, decrees, sentences, reports, certifi¬
cates, &c. are called acts.
Acts also denote the deliberations and resolutions of
an assembly, senate, or convention ; as acts of parlia¬
ment, &c. Likewise matters of fact transmitted to
posterity in certain authentic books and memoirs.
Acta Consistorii, the edicts or declarations of the
council of state of the emperors. These edicts were
generally expressed in sudi terms as these : “ the au¬
gust emperors, Dioclesian and Maximin, in council de¬
clared, That the children of decurions should not be
exposed to wild beasts in the amphitheatre.”
The senate and soldiers often swore, either through
abject flattery or by compulsion, upon the edicts of the
emperor, as we do upon the Bible. And the name of
Apidius Merula was erased by Nero out of the register
of senators, because he refused to swear upon the edicts
of the emperor Augustus.
Acta Diurna, was a sort of Roman gazette, contain¬
ing an authorized narrative of the transactions worthy
of notice which happened at Rome. Petronius has gi¬
ven us a specimen of the acta diurna in his account of
Trimalchi; and as it may not perhaps be unentertain¬
ing to see how exactly a Roman newspaper runs in the
style of an English one, the following is an article or
two out of it:
“ On the 26th of July, 30 boys and 40 girls were
born at Trimalchi’s estate at Cuma.
“ At the same time a slave was put to death for ut¬
tering disrespectful words against his lord.
“ The same day a fire broke out in Pompey’s gar--
dens, which began in the night, in the steward’s apart¬
ment.”
Acta Populi, among the Romans, were journals or
registers of the daily occurrences ; as assemblies, trials,
executions, buildings, births, marriages, deaths, &c.
of
[ 166 ]
ACT [ :
of Illustrious persons, and the like. These were other-
^ wise called Acta Publica and Acta Diurna, or simply
Acta. The Acta differed from Annals, in that only
the greater and more important matters were in the
latter, and those of less note were in the former. Their
origin is attributed to Julius Caesar, who first ordered
the keeping and making public the acts of the people.
Some trace them higher, to Servius Tullius j who, to
discover the number of persons born, dead, and alive,
ordered that the next of kin, upon a birth, should put
a certain piece of money into the treasury of Juno Lu-
cina 5 upon a death, into that of Venus Libitina : the
like was also to be done upon assuming the toga virilis,
&c. Under Marcus Antoninus, this was carried fur¬
ther : persons were obliged to notify the births of their
children, with their names and surnames, the day, con¬
sul, and whether legitimate or spurious, to the prefects
of the Mrariurn Saturni, to be entered in the public
acts j though before this time the births of persons of
quality appear thus to have been registered.
Acta Senatus, among the Homans, were minutes
of what passed and was debated in the senate house.
These were also called Commentarii, and by a Greek
name vnepiupstlu. They had their origin in the con¬
sulship of Julius Caesar, who ordered them both to be
kept and published. The keeping them was continued
under Augustus, but the publication was abrogated.
Afterwards all writings, relating to the decrees or sen¬
tences of the judges, or what passed and was done be¬
fore them, or by their authority, in any cause, were
also called by the name Acta : In which sense we read
of civil acts, criminal acts, intervenient acts j acta ci¬
vilian criminalia, intervenientia, Sfc.
Public Acts. The knowledge of public acts forms
part of a peculiar science, called the Diplomatic,
of great importance to a historian, statesman, chro-
nologer, and even critic. The preservation of them
was the first occasion of erecting libraries. The style
of acts is generally barbarous Latin. Authors are di¬
vided as to the rules of judging of their genuineness,
and even whether there be any certain rules at all. F.
Germon will have the greater part of the acts of former
ages to be spurious. Fontanini asserts, that the num¬
ber of forged acts now extant, is very small. It is cer¬
tain there were severe punishments inflicted on the for¬
gers and falsifiers of acts.—The chief of the English
acts, or public records, are published by Rymer, under
the title of Fvcdera, and continued by Saunderson 5 an
extract whereofhas been given in French by Rapin, and
translated into English under the title of Acta Regia.
Great commendations have been given this work : also
some exceptions made to it j as that there are many spu¬
rious acts, as well as errors, in it; some have even char¬
ged it with falsifications.—The public acts of France
tell into the hands of the . English after the battle of
Poictiers, and are commonly said to have been carried
by them out of the country. But the tradition is not
supported by any sufficient testimony.
Acts of the Apostles, one of the sacred books of the
New Testament, containing the history of the infant
church, during the space of 29 or 30 years from the
ascension of our Lord to the year of Christ 63.—It was
written by St Luke; and addressed to Theophilus, the
person to whom the evangelist had before dedicated his
Gospel, We here -find the accomplishment of several of
167 ] ACT
the promises made by our Saviour ; his ascension ; the Acts,
descent ol the Holy Ghost ; the first preaching of the v~“
apostles, and the miracles whereby their doctrines were
confirmed ; an admirable picture of the manners of the
primitive Christians ; and, in short, every thing that
passed in the church till the dispersion of the apostles,
who separated themselves in order to propagate the
gospel throughout the world. From the period of that
separation, St Luke quits the history of the other apo¬
stles, who were then at too great a distance from him,
and confines himself more particularly to that of St
Paul, who had chosen him for the companion of his
labours. He follows that apostle in all his missions,
and even to Rome itself; for it appears that the Acts
were published in the second year of St Paul’s residence
in that city, or the 36th year of the Christian era, and
in the 9th or 10th year of Nero’s reign. The style of
this work, which was originally composed in Greek, is
much purer than that of the other canonical tvriters;
and it is observable that St Luke, who was much better
acquainted with the Greek than with the Hebrew lan¬
guage, always, in his quotations from the Old Testa¬
ment, makes use of the Septuagint version. The coun¬
cil of Laodicea places the Acts of the Apostles among
the canonical books, and all the churches have acknow¬
ledged it as such without any controversy.
There were several Spurious Acts of the Apo¬
stles ; particularly, 1. Acts, supposed to be written
by Abdias*, the pretended bishop of Babylon, who* s
gave out that he was ordained bishop by the apostles^- ^
themselves when they were upon their journey into
Persia. 2. The Acts of St Peter: this book came 0-
riginally from the school of the Ebionites. 3. The
Acts of St Paul; which is entirely lost. Eusebius, who
had seen it, pronounces it of no authority. 4. The
Acts of St John the Evangelist; a book made use of by
the Encratites, Manichaeans, and Priscillianists. 5. The
Acts of St Andrew; received by the Manichaeans, En¬
cratites, and Apotactics. 6. The Acts of St Thomas
the Apostle ; received particularly by the Manichseans.
7. The Acts of St Philip. This book the Gnostics
made use of. 8. The Acts of St Matthias. Some
have imagined that the Jews for a long time had con¬
cealed the original Acts of the life and death of St Mat¬
thias written in Hebrew ; and that a monk of the ab¬
bey of St Matthias at Treves, having got them out of
their hands, procured them to be translated into Latin,
and published them ; but the critics will not allow them
to be authentic.
Acts of Pilate ; a relation sent by Pilate to the em¬
peror Tiberius, concerning Jesus Christ, his death, re¬
surrection, ascension, and the crimes of which he tvas
convicted before him f. It was a custom among the
Romans, that the proconsuls and governors of provin- 7^7^
ces should draw up acts, or memoirs, of what happened jit. i'j. t4p.*
in the course of their government, and send them to the 2. and ix. 5.
emperor and senate. The genuine acts of Pilate were
sent by him to Tiberius, who reported them to the se¬
nate ; but they were rejected by that assembly, because
not immediately addressed to them: as is testified by
Tertullian, in his Apol. cap. 5. and 20, 21. The
heretics forged acts in imitation of them : in the reign:
of the emperor Maximin, the Gentiles, to throw an
odium on the Christian name, spread about spurious
Acts of Pilate ; which the emperor, by a solemn edict,'
ordered
ACT
[ 168 ]
ACT
Sac. Apo-
stol.
ordered to be sent into all the provinces of the empire,
and enjoined the schoolmasters to teach and explain
them to their scholars, and make them learn them by
heart. These acts, both the genuine and the spurious,
are lost. There is indeed extant, in the Pseudo-Hege-
sippns, a letter from Pilate to the emperor Claudius,
* Cave Hist, concerning Jesus Christ * } but it discovers itself at
Literar. .jgrst sight not to be authentic.
Act of Parliament is a positive law, consisting of
two parts, the words of the act, and its true sense and
meaning j which being joined, make the law. The
words of acts of parliament should be taken in a lawful
sense. Cases of the same nature are within the inten¬
tion, though without the letter, of the act: and some
acts extend by equity to things not mentioned therein.
See Parliament.
ACTJE, were meadows of remarkable verdure and
luxuriancy near the sea shore, where the Romans used
to indulge themselves to a great degree in softness and
delicacy of living. The word is used in this sense by
Cicero and Virgil $ but Vossius thinks it can only be
used in speaking of Sicily, as these two authors did.
ACTJe,A, Herb-christopher, or Bane-Berries :
See Botany Index.
AC1VEON, in fabulous history, the son of Aristseus
and Autonoe : a great hunter. He was transformed by
Diana into a stag, because he looked on her while bath¬
ing j and was devoured by his own dogs. The effects
of impertinent curiosity and expensive pleasures seem
to he the moral of the fable.
ACTANIA, an island, according to Pliny, in the
North sea. It lies to the west of Holstein and Dit-
mersch, not far from the mouth of the Eyder and Elbe,
and is now called Heyligland.
ACTE. See Sambucus.
ACTIAN games, in Roman antiquity, were so¬
lemn games instituted by Augustus, in memory of his
victory over Mark Antony at Actium, held every fifth
year, and celebrated in honour of Apollo, since called
Actius. Hence Action Years, an era commencing from
the battle of Actium, called the Era of Augustus.
Virgil insinuates them to have been instituted by
./Eneas j from that passage, /En. III. v. 280.
Actiaque Iliads celebramus littora ludis.
/En. III. 280.
But this he only does by way of compliment to Augus¬
tus : attributing that to the hero from whom he de¬
scended, which was done by the emperor himself j as is
observed by Servius. -
ACTINIA, in Zoology, a genus belonging to the or¬
der of Vermes mollusca, called Animal Flowers, and
Sea Anemonies. See Vermes.
ACTINOLITE, in Mineralogy. See Mineralogy
Index.
ACTIO, in Roman antiquities, an action at law in
a court of justice. The formalities used by the Romans,
in judicial actions, were these : If the difference failed
to be made up by friends, the injured person proceeded
in jus reum vocare, to summon the offending party to
the court, who was obliged to go, or give bond for his
appearance.
The offending party might be summoned into court
viva voce, by the plaintiff himself meeting the defend¬
ant, declaring his intention to him, and commanding
3
him to go before the magistrate and make his defence.
If he would not go willingly, he might drag and force
him along, unless he gave security for his appearance
on some appointed day. If he failed to appear on the
day agreed on, then the plaintiff, whensoever he met
him, might take him along with him by force, calling
any by-standers to bear witness, by asking them visne
antestari? the by-standers upon this turned their ear
toward him in token of their consent: To this Horace
alludes in his satire against the impertinent, Lib. i.
Sat. 9. See this further explained under the article
Antestari.
Both parties being met before the praetor, or other
supreme magistrate presiding in the court, the plaintiff
proposed the action to the defendant, in which he de¬
signed to prosecute him. This they termed edere ac¬
tionem ; and was commonly performed by writing it in
a tablet, and offering it to the defendant, that he might
see whether he had better stand the suit or com¬
pound.
In the next place came the postulatio actionis, or the
plaintiff ’s petition to the praetor, for leave to prosecute
the defendant in such an action. The petition was
granted by writing at the bottom of it actionem do, or
refused by writing in the same manner actionem non
do.
The petition being granted, the plaintiff' vadabatur
reum, i. e. obliged him to give sureties for his appear¬
ance on such a day in the court; and this was all that
was done in public, before the day fixed upon for the
trial.
In the mean time, the difference was often made up,
either transactione, by letting the cause fall as dubious j
or pactione, by composition for damages amongst
friends.
On the day appointed for hearing, the praetor or¬
dered the several bills to be read, and the parties sum¬
moned by an accensus, or beadle. See Accensi.
Upon the nonappearance of either party, the de¬
faulter lost his cause: if they both appeared, they
were said se stetisse; and then the plaintiff proceeded
litem sive actionem intendere, i. e. to prefer his suit,
which was done in a set form of words, varying accord¬
ing to the difference of the actions. After this the
plaintiff desired judgment of the praetor, that is, to be
allowed vl judex or arbiter, else the recuperatores or
centumviri. These he requested for the hearing and
deciding the business : but none of them could be de¬
sired but by the consent of both parties.
The praetor having assigned them their judges, de¬
fined and determined the number of witnessess to be
admitted, to hinder the protracting of the suit $ and
then the parties proceeded to give their caution, that
the judgment, whatever it was, should stand and be
performed on both sides. The judges took a solemn
oath to be impartial: and the parties took \\\zjuramen¬
tum calumnice. Then the trial began with the assis¬
tance of witnesses, writings, &c. which was called dis-
ceptatio causes.
ACTION, in a general sense, implies nearly the
same thing with Act.—Grammarians, however, ob¬
serve some distinction between action and act; the for¬
mer being generally restricted to the common or ordi¬
nary transactions, whereas the latter is used to express
those which are remarkable. Thus, we say it is a good
action
Actio,
Action.
ACT [ i6g 1 ACT
ction. action to comfort the unhappy , it is a generous act to
deprive ourselves of what is necessary for their sake.
The wise man proposes to himself an honest end in all
his actions ; a prince ought to mark every day of his
life with some act of greatness. The abbe Girard
makes a further distinction between the words action
and act. The former, according to him, has more re¬
lation to the power that acts than the latter j whereas
the latter has more relation to the effect produced than
the former : and hence the one is properly the attribute
of the other. Thus we may properly say, “ Be sure to
preserve a presence of mind in all your actions $ and
take care that they be all acts of equity.”
Action, in Mechanics, implies either the effort
which a body or power makes against another body or
power, or the effect itself of that effort.
As it is necessary, in works of this kind, to have a
particular regard to the common language of mecha¬
nics and philosophers, we have given this double defi¬
nition : but the proper signification of the term is the
motion which a body really produces, or tends to pro¬
duce, in another ; that is, such is the motion it would
have produced, had nothing hindered its effect.
All power is nothing more than a body actually in
motion, or which tends to move itself; that is, a body
which would move itself if nothing opposed it. The
action therefore of a body is rendered evident to us by
its motion only •, and consequently we must not fix any
other idea to the word action, than that of actual mo¬
tion, or a simple tendency to motion. The famous
question relating to vis viva and vis mortua, owes, in
all probability, its existence to an inadequate idea of
the word action : for had Leibnitz and his followers
observed, that the only precise and distinct idea we can
give to the word force or action, reduces it to its ef¬
fect, that is, to the motion it actually produces or tends
to produce, they would never have made that curious
distinction.
Quantity of Actiov, a name given by M. de Mau-
pertuis, in the Memoirs of the Parisian Academy of
Sciences for 1744, and those of Berlin for 1746, to the
product of the mass of a body by the space which it
runs through, and by its celerity. He lays it down as
a general law, “ that, in the changes made in the state
“ of a body, the quantity of action necessary to pro-
“ duce such change is the least possible.^’ This prin¬
ciple he applies to the investigation of the laws of re¬
fraction, of equilibrium, &c. and even to the ways of
acting employed by the Supreme Being. In this man¬
ner M. de Maupertuis attempts to connect the meta¬
physics of final causes with the fundamental truths of
mechanics, to show the dependence of the collision of
both elastic and hard bodies upon one and the same law,
which before had always been referred to separate laws;
and to reduce the laws of motion, and those of equili¬
brium, to one and the same principle.
Action, in Ethics, denotes the external signs or
expressions of the sentiments of a moral agent. See
Active Power, infra.
Action, in Poetry, the same with subject or fable.
Critics generally distinguish two kinds, the principal
and the incidental. The principal action is what is ge¬
nerally called the fable ; and the incidental an episode.
See Poetry.
Action, in Oratory, is the outward deportment of
Vol. I. Part I. -f
the orator, or the accommodation of his countenance, Action
voice, and gesture, to the subject of which he is treat- li
ing. See Oratory. Active.
Action, in a theatrical sense. See Declama- 'r""u4u
tion.
Actionfor the Pulpit. See Declamation.
Action, in Painting and Sculpture, is the attitude
or position of the several parts of the face, body, and
limbs, of such figures as are represented, and whereby
they seem to be really actuated by passions. Thus we
say, the action of such a figure finely expresses the pas¬
sions with which it is agitated ; we also use the same
expression with regard to animals.
Action, in Physiology, is applied to the functions of
the body, whether vital, animal, or natural.
The vital functions, or actions, are those which are
absolutely necessary to life, and without which there is
no life : as the action of the heart, lungs, and arteries.
On the action and reaction of the solids and fluids on
each other, depend the vital functions. The pulse and
respiration are the external signs of life. Vital diseases
are all those which hinder the influx of the venous blood
into the cavities of the heart, and the expulsion of the
arterial blood from the same.—The natural functions
are those which are instrumental in repairing the seve¬
ral losses which the body sustains ; for life is destructive
of itself, its very offices occasioning a perpetual waste.
The manducation of food, the deglutition and digestion
thereof, also the separation and distribution of the chyle
and excrementitious parts, &c. are under the head of
natural functions, as by these our aliment is converted
into our nature. They are necessary to the continuance
of our bodies.—The animal functions are those which
we perform at will, as muscular motion, and all the
voluntary actions of the body : they are those which
constitute the senses of touch, taste, smell, sight, hear¬
ing, perception, reasoning, imagination, memory, judge¬
ment, affections of the mind. Without any or all of
them, a man may live, but not so comfortably as with
them.
Action, in Commerce, is a term used abroad for a
certain part or share of a public company’s capital
stock. Thus, if a company has 400,000 livres capital
stock, this may be divided into 400 actions, each con¬
sisting of 1000 livres. Hence a man is said to have two,
four, &c. actions, according as he has the property of
two, four, &c. 1000 livres capital stock. The trans¬
ferring of actions abroad is performed much in the same
manner as stocks are with us. See Stocks.
Action, in Law, is a demand made before a judge
for obtaining what we are legally entitled to demand,
and is more commonly known by the name of law-suit
or process. See Suit.
ACTIONARY, or Actionist, a proprietor of stock
in a trading company. ,
ACTIONS, among merchants, sometimes signify
moveable effects 5 and we say the merchant’s creditors
have seized on all his actions, when we mean that they
have taken possession of all his active debts.
ACTIVE, denotes something that communicates
action or motion to another j in which acceptation it
stands opposed to passive.
Active, in Grammar, is applied to such words as
express action $ and is therefore opposed to passive. The
active performs the action, as the passive receives it.
Y Thus
ACT [i?0
Actire Tims we say, a verl> active, a conjugation active, &c.
|| or an active participle. t
Action. Active Verbs, are such as do not only signify doing,
1   ' or acting, but have also nouns following them, to be
the subject of the action or impression : Thus, To love,
to teach, are verbs active; because we can say, To love
a thing, to teach a man. Neuter verbs also denote an
action, but are distinguished from active verbs: in that
they cannot have a noun following them: such are,
To sleep, to go, &c. Some grammarians, however, make
three kinds of active verbs: the transitive, where the
action passes into a subject different from the agent;
reflected, where the action returns upon the agent j and
reciprocal, where the action returns mutually upon the
two agents who produced it.
Active Power, in Metaphysics, the power of exe¬
cuting any work or labour 5 in contradistinction to spe-
* 1 R 'd cu^a^ve powers or the powers of seeing, hearing, re-
enthe Ac- membering, judging, reasoning, &c.
'live Powers The exertion of active power we call action, and as
of Man, every action produces some change, so every change
I2* must he caused by some effect, or by the cessation of
some exertion of power. That which produces a
change by the exertion of its power we call the cause
of that change •, and the change produced, the effect
of that cause. See Metaphysics.
Active Principles, in Chemistry, such as are supposed
to act without any assistance from others 5 as mercury,
sulphur, &c.
ACTIVITY, in general, denotes the power ot act¬
ing, or the active faculty. See Active.
Sphere of Activity, the whole space in which the
virtue, power, or influence, of any object is exerted.
ACTIUM, in Ancient Geography, a town situated
on the coast of Acarnania, in itself inconsiderable, but
famous for a temple of Apollo, a safe harbour, and an
adjoining promontory of the same name, in the mouth
of the Sinus Ambracius, over against Nicopolis, on
the other side of the bay : it afterwards became more
famous on account of Augustus’s victory over Antony
and Cleopatra ; and for quinquennial games instituted
there, called Actia or Ludi Actiaci. lienee the epi¬
thet Actius, given to Apollo (Virgil,). Actiaca cera, a
computation of time from the battle of Actium. The
promontory is now called Capo di Figalo. The medals
of Actium were silver, gold and bronze j and the ordi¬
nary type is a flying pegasus.
ACTIUS, in mythology, a surname of Apollo, from
Actium, where he was worshipped.
ACTON, a town near London, where is a well that
affords a purging water, which is noted for the pun¬
gency of its salt. This water is whitish; to the taste
it is sweetish, with a mixture of the same bitter which
is in the Epsom water. The salt of this water is not
quite so soft as that, of Epsom *, and is more calcareous
than it, having more of the salt of lime : for a quantity
of the Acton water being boiled high, and mixed with a
solution of sublimate in pure water, threw down a yel¬
low sediment. The salt of the Acton water is more
nitrous than that of Epsom ; it strikes a deep red, or
purple, with the tincture of logwood in brandy, as is
usual with nitrous salts j it does not precipitate silver
out of the spirit of nitre, as common salt does : lb.
of this water yields 48 grains of salt.
] ACT
ACTOE, in general, signifies a person who acts or ^clcr
performs something. Actoiumj
Actor, among civilians, the proctor or advocate‘—-y
in civil courts or causes ; as, Actor ecclesiee has been
sometimes used for the advocate of the church ; actor
dominicus for the lord’s attorney 5 actor villce, the
steward or head bailift ol a village.
Actor, in the drama, is a person who represents
some part or character in the theatre. The drama
consisted originally of nothing more than a simple cho¬
rus, who sung hymns in honour ol Bacchus 3 so that
the primitive actors were only singers and musicians.
Thespis was the first that, in order to ease this un¬
formed chorus, introduced a declaimer, who repeated
some heroic cr comic adventure. .^Eschylus, finding
a single person tiresome, attempted to introduce a se¬
cond, and changed the ancient recitals into dialogues.
He also dressed his actors in a more majestic manner,
and introduced the cothurnus or buskin. Sophocles
added a third, in order to represent the various inci¬
dents in a more natural manner : and here the Greeks
stopped, at least we do not find in any of their tra¬
gedies above three persons in the same scene. Perhaps
they looked upon it as a rule of the dramatic poem
never to admit more than three speakers at a time on
the stage 3 a rule which Horace has expressed in the
following verse:
Nee quarta loquipersona laboret.
This, however, did not prevent their increasing the
number of actors in comedy. Before the opening of a
play, they named their actors in full theatre, together
with the parts they were to perform. The ancient ac¬
tors were masked, and obliged to raise their voice ex¬
tremely, in order to make themselves heard by the in¬
numerable crowd of people who filled the amphitheatres:
they were accompanied with a player on the flute,
who played a prelude, gave them the tone, and played
while they declaimed. Horace speaks of a kind of se¬
condary actors in his time, whose business was to imi¬
tate the first 3 and lessen themselves, to become better
foils to their principals.
The moderns have introduced an infinite number of
actors upon the stage. This heightens the trouble and
distress that should reign there, and makes a diversity,
in which the spectator is sure to be interested.
Actors were highly honoured at Athens. At Rome
they were despised, and not only denied all rank among
the citizens, but even when any citizen appeared upon
the stage, he was expelled his tribe, and deprived of the
right of suffrage by censors. Cicero, indeed, esteems
the talents of Roscius : but he values his virtues still
more 3 virtues which distinguished him so remarkably
above all others of his profession, that they seemed to
have excluded him from the theatre. The French have,
in this respect, adopted the ideas of the Romans j and
the English those of the Greeks.
Actor, the name of several persons in fabulous hi¬
story. One Actor among the Aurunci is described by
Virgil as a hero of the first rank. fPn. xii.
ACTORUM tabulte, in antiquity, were tables in¬
stituted by Servius Tullius, in which the births of chil¬
dren were registered. They were kept in the treasury
of Saturn.
APTTJFSS.
ACT [i
stress ACTRESS, in a general sense, a female who acts or
performs something.
etaariiis.3 Actress, in the Drama, a female performer. Wo-
—v—J mell actors were unknown to the ancients, among
whom men always performed the female character 5
and hence one reason for the use of masks among
them.
Actresses are said not to have been introduced on the
English stage till after the restoration of King Charles
II. who has been charged with contributing to the
corrupting of our manners by importing this usage
from abroad. But this can be but partly true : the
queen of lames I. acted a part in a pastoral j and Prynn,
in his Histriomastix, speaks of women actors in his
time as prostitutes; which wras one occasion of the severe
prosecution brought against him for that book.
There are some very agreeable and beautiful talents,
of which the possession commands a certain sort of ad¬
miration ; but of which the exercise for the sake of
gain is considered, whether from reason or prejudice,
as a sort of public prostitution. The pecuniary recom¬
pense, therefore, of those who exercise them in this
manner, must be sufficient, not only to pay for the
time, labour, and expence of acquiring the talents,
but for the discredit which attends the employment of
them as the means of subsistence. The exorbitant re¬
wards of players, opera-singers, opera-dancers, &c. are
founded upon those two principles; the rarity and
beauty of the talents, and the discredit of employing
them in this manner. It seems absurd at first sight
that we should despise their persons, and yet reward
their talents with the most profuse liberality. While
we do the one, however, we must of necessity do the
other. Should the public opinion or prejudice ever al¬
ter with regard to such occupations, their pecuniary re¬
compense would quickly diminish. More people would
apply to them, and the competition would quickly re¬
duce the price of their labour. Such talents, though
far from being common, are by no means so rare as
is imagined. Many people possess them in great per¬
fection, who disdain to make this use of them; and
many more are capable of acquiring them, if any thing
could be made honourably by them.
ACTUAL, something that is real and effective, or
that exists truly and absolutely. Thus philosophers
use the terms actual heat, actual cold, &c. in opposi¬
tion to virtual ovpotential. Hence, among physicians,
a red hot iron, or fire, is called an actual cautery;
in distinction from cauteries, or caustics, that have
the power of producing the. same effect upon the ani¬
mal solids as actual fire, and are called potential caute¬
ries. Boiling water is actually hot; brandy, produ¬
cing heat in the body, is potentially hot, though of it¬
self cold.
Actual Sin, that which is committed by the person
himself; in opposition to original sin, or that which he
contracted from being a child of Adam.
ACTUARIAE, naves, a kind of long and light
ships among the Romans, thus denominated, because
they were chiefly designed for swiftness and expedition.
They correspond to what the French call brigantines.
ACTUARIES, a celebrated Greek physician of
the 13th century, and the first Greek author who has
treated of mild purgatives, such as cassia, manna, sena,
&c. He is the first also wrho mentioas distilled waters.
r ] A C U
His works were printed in one volume folio, by Henry
Stephens in 1567.
Actuarius, or Actarius, a notary or officer ap- v
pointed to write the acts or proceedings of a court, or
the like. In the Eastern empire, the actuarii were
properly officers, w'ho kept the military accounts, re¬
ceived the corn from the susceptores or storekeepers,
and delivered it to the soldiers.
ACTUATE, to bring into act, or put a thing in
action. Thus an agent is said, by the schoolmen, to
actuate a power, when it produces an act in a subject.
Thus the mind may be said to actuate the body ; and
thus a medicine is said by some ancient physicians to
be actuated or brought into action, when by means of
the vital heat it is made to produce its effect.
ACTUS, in Ancient Architecture, a measure in
length equal to 120 Roman feet. In Ancient Agricul¬
ture the word signified the length of one furrow, or the
distance a plough goes before it turns.
Actus Minimus was a quantity of land 120 feet in
length, and four in breadth.
Mctus Major, or Actus Qjuadratus, a piece of
ground in a square form, whose side was equal to 120
feet, equal to half the jugerum.
Actus Intervicinalis, a space of ground four feet in
breadth, left between the lands as a path or way.
ACUANITES, in Ecclesiastical History, the same
with those called more frequently Manichees. They
took the name from Acua, a disciple of Thomas one
of the twelve apostles.
ACULEATE, or Aculeati, a term applied to any
plant or animal armed with prickles.
ACULEI, the prickles of animals or of plants.
ACULER, in the Manege, is used for the motion
of a horse, when, in working upon volts, he does not
go far enough forward at every time or motion, so that
his shoulders embrace or take in too little ground, and
his croupe comes too near the centre of the volt.
Horses are naturally inclined to this fault in making
demi-volts.
ACUMINA, in Antiquity, a kind of military omen,
most generally supposed to have been taken from the
points or edges of darts, swords, or other weapons.
ACUNA, Christopher de, a Spanish Jesuit, bom
at Burgos. He was admitted into the society in 1612,
being then but 15 years of age. After having devo¬
ted some years to study, he went to America, where
he assisted in making converts in Chili and Peru.. In
1640 he returned to Spain, and gave the king an ac¬
count how far he had succeeded in the commission he
had received to make discoveries on the river of the
Amarons; and the year following he published a de¬
scription of this river at Madrid. Acunq was sent to
Rome, as procurator of his province. He returned to
Spain with the title of Qualificator of the Inquisition ;
hut soon after embarked again for the West Indies,
and was at Lima in 1675, when Father Southwell
published at Rome the Bibliotheque of the Jesuit wri¬
ters. Acuna’s work is entitled, Neuvo descubrimento
del gran rio de las Amazonas ; i. e. “ A new discove¬
ry of the great river of the Amazons.” He was 10
months together upon this river, having had instruc¬
tions to inquire into every thing with the greatest ex¬
actness, that his majesty might thereby he enabled to
render the navigation more easy and commodious. He
Y 2 vieni
Actnarlus
11
Acuna.
V—'
A D
Acuna went aboard a ship at Quito with Peter Texiera, who
|| had already been so far up the river, and was there-
 fore thought a proper person to accompany him in this
"~~v _ expedition. They embarked in February 1639, but
did not arrive at Para till the December following. It
is thought that the revolution of Portugal, by which
the Spaniards lost all Brazil, and the colony of Para at
the mouth of the river of the Amazons, wrere the cause
that the relation of this Jesuit was suppressed •, for, as
it could not be of any advantage to the Spaniards, they
were afraid it might prove of great service to the Por¬
tuguese. The copies of this work became extremely
scarce, so that the publishers of the French translation
at Paris asserted, that there was not one copy of the
original extant, excepting one in the possession of the
translator, and perhaps that in the Vatican library.
M. de Gomberville was the author of this translation:
it was published after his death, with a long disserta¬
tion. An account of the original may be seen in the
Paris Journal, in that of Leipsic, and in Cheverau’s
History of the World.
ACUPUNCTURE, the name of a surgical opera¬
tion among the Chinese and Japanese, which is per¬
formed by pricking the part affected with a silver needle.
They employ this operation in headachs, lethargies,
convulsions, colics, &c.
ACUS, in Ichthyology, the trivial name of a species
of syngnathus. See Syngnathus.
ACUSIO colonia, now AncoNE, according to
Holstenius, between Orange and Valence, near Mon-
telimart, on the banks of the Rhone.
ACUTE, an epithet applied to such things as ter¬
minate in a sharp point or edge. And in this sense it
stands opposed to obtuse.
Acute jungle, in Geometry, is that which is less
than a right angle, or which does not subtend 90 de¬
grees.
AcuTE-angled Triangle, is a triangle whose three
angles are all acute.
AcuTE-angled Cone, is, according to the ancients, a
right cone, whose axis makes an acute angle with its
side.
Acute, in Music, is applied to a sound or tone that
is sharp or high in comparison of some other tone.
In this sense, acute stands opposed to grave.
Acute Accent. See Accent.
Acute Diseases, such as come suddenly to a crisis.
This term is used for all diseases which do not fall un¬
der the head of chronic diseases.
ACUTIATOR, in writers of the barbarous ages,
denotes a person that whets or grinds cutting instru¬
ments j called also in ancient glossaries acutor, oocovtirnf,
samiarius, coharius, &c. In the ancient armies there
were acutiatores, a kind of smiths, retained for whet¬
ting or keeping the arms sharp.
AD, a I ^atin preposition, originally signifying to,
and frequently used in composition both with and with¬
out the d, to express the relation of one thing to ano-
other.
Ad Tdestias, in antiquity, is the punishment of crimi¬
nals condemned to be thrown to wild beasts.
Ad Hominem, in Logic, a kind of argument drawn
» from the principles or prejudices of those with whom
we argue.
Ad Ludos, in antiquity, a sentence upon criminals
ADA
among the Romans, whereby they were condemned to Ad
entertain the people by fighting either with wild beasts ||
or with one another, and thus executing justice upon , Adam,
themselves.
Ad Metal/a, in antiquity, the punishment of such
criminals as were condemned to the mines, among the
Romans j and therefore called Metallici.
Ad ValoreTn, a term chiefly used in speaking of the
duties or customs paid for certain goods : The duties
on some articles are paid by the number, weight, mea¬
sure, tale, &c. j and others are paid ad valorem, that
is, according to their value.
ADAGE, a proverb, or short sentence, containing
some wise observation or popular saying. Erasmus has
made a very large and valuable collection of the Greek
and Roman adages j and Mr Ray has done the same
with regard to the English. We have also Kelly’s
Collection of Scots Proverbs.
ADAGIO, in Music. Adverbially, it signifies soft¬
ly, leisurely: and is used to denote the slowest of all
times. Used substantively, it signifies a slow move¬
ment. Sometimes this word is repeated, as adagio,
adagio, to denote a still greater retardation in the time
of the music.
ADALIDES, in the Spanish policy, are officers
of justice, for matters touching the military forces.
In the laws of King Alphonsus, the adalides are spo¬
ken of as officers appointed to guide and direct the
marching of the forces in time of war. Lopez repre¬
sents them as a sort of judges, w’ho take cognizance of
the differences rising upon excursions, the distribution
of plunder, &c.
ADx4M, the first of the. human race, was formed
by the Almighty on the sixth day of the creation. His
body was made of the dust of the earth : after which,
God animated or gave it life, and Adam then became
a rational creature. His heavenly Parent did not leave
his offspring in a destitute state to shift for himself; but
planted a garden, in which he caused to grow not only
every tree that was proper for producing food, but
likewise such as were agreeable to the eye, or merely
ornamental. In this garden were assembled all the
brute creation j and, by their Maker, caused to pass
before Adam, who gave all of them names, which were
judged proper by the Deity himself.—In this review
Adam found none for a companion to himself. This
solitary state was seen by the Deity to be attended with
some degree of unhappiness j and therefore he threw
Adam into a deep sleep, in which condition he took a
rib from his side, and healing up the wound formed a
woman of the rib he had taken out. On Adam’s
awaking, the woman was brought to him $ and he im¬
mediately knew her to be one of his own species, call¬
ed her his bone and his flesh, giving her the name of
woman because she was taken out of man.
The first pair being thus created, God gave them
authority over the inferior creation, commanding them
to subdue the earth, also to increase and multiply and
fill it. They were informed of the proper food for the
beasts and for them 5 the grass, or green herbs, being
appointed for beasts ; and fruits, or seeds, for man.
Their proper employment also was assigned them j
namely, to dress the garden, and to keep it.
Though Adam was thus highly favoured and instruct¬
ed by his Maker, there was a single tree, which grew
a&
[ 172 1
ADA [173] ADA
Adam, in tiie middle of the garden, of the fruit of which they
-—v—' were not allowed to eat ; being told that they should
surely die in the day they ate of it. This tree was
named the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.
This prohibition, however, they soon broke through.
The woman having entered into conversation with the
Serpent, was by him persuaded, that by eating of the
tree she should become as wise as God himself: and ac¬
cordingly, being invited by the beauty of the fruit, and
its desirable property of imparting wisdom, she plucked
and ate •, giving her husband of it at the same time,
who did likewise eat.
Before this transgression of the divine command,
Adam and his wife had no occasion for clothes, neither
had they any sense of shame ; but immediately on eat¬
ing the forbidden fruit, they were ashamed of being
naked, and made aprons of fig leaves for themselves.
On hearing the voice of God in the garden, they were
terrified, and hid themselves : but being questioned by
the Deity, they confessed what they had done, and re¬
ceived sentence accordingly ; the man being condemn¬
ed to labour ; the woman to subjection to her husband,
and to pain in child-bearing. They were now driven
out of the garden, and their access to it prevented by
a terrible apparition. They had clothes given them by
the Deity made of the skins of beasts. In this state
Adam had several children ; the names of only three
of whom we are acquainted with, viz. Cain, Abel,
and Seth. He died at the age of 930 years.
These are all the particulars concerning Adam’s
life, that we have on divine authority : but a vast
multitude of others are added by the Jews, Mahome¬
tans, and Papists ; all of which must be at best conjec¬
tural $ most of them, indeed, appear downright false¬
hoods or absurdities. The curiosity of our readers, it is
presumed, will be sufficiently gratified by the few which
are here subjoined.
According to the Talmudists, when Adam was cre¬
ated, his body was of immense magnitude. When he
sinned, his stature was reduced to a hundred ells, ac¬
cording to some j to nine hundred cubits, according
to others 5 who think this was done at the request of
the angels, who were afraid of so gigantic a creature.
In the island of Ceylon is a mountain, called the Peak
or mountain of Adam, from its being, according to
the tradition of the country, the residence of our first
parents. Here the print of his footsteps, above two
palms in length, are still pointed out.
Many reveries have been formed concerning the per¬
sonal beauty of Adam. That he was a handsome well-
shaped man is probable ; but some writers, not content
with this, affirm, that God, intending to create man,
clothed Himself with a perfectly beautiful human body,
making this his model in the formation of the body of
Adam.
Nor has the imagination been less indulgent con¬
cerning the formation of the human species male and
female.—It would be endless to recount all the fancies
that have been wrote on this subjecl ; but as Madame
Bourignon has made a considerable figure in the reli¬
gious, or rather superstitious, world, we cannot help in¬
serting some of her opinions concerning the first man,
which are peculiarly marvellous. According to the
revelations of this lady, Adam before his fall possessed
an himself the principles of both sexes, and the virtue
or power of producing his like, without the concur- Adam,
rent assistance of woman. The division into two sexes ’—-v-—-1
she imagined *, w as the consequence of man’s sin j and * Preface
now, she observes, mankind are become so many
sters in nature, being much less perfect in this respect nou_
than plants or trees, which are capable of producing waw CiW cj
their like alone, and without
imagined, that being in an e
of Adam before he fell, with
self, he was capable of procreating other men. “ God,”
says she, “ represented to my mind the beauty of the
first world, and the manner how he had drawn it from
the chaos : every thing was bright, transparent and
darted forth life and ineffable glory. The body of
Adam was purer and more transparent than crystal, and
vastly fleet $ through his body were seen vessels and
rivulets of light, which penetrated from the inward
to the outward parts, through all his pores. In some
vessels ran fluids of all kinds and colours, vastly bright,
and quite diaphanous. The most ravishing harmony
arose from every motion j and nothing resisted, or could
annoy him. His stature was taller than the present,
race of men ; his hair was short, curled, and of a colour
inclining to. black j his upper lip covered with short
hair: and instead of the bestial parts which modesty
will not allow us to name, he was fashioned as our bo¬
dies will be in the life eternal, which I know not whe¬
ther I dare reveal. In that region his nose was form¬
ed after the manner of a face, which diffused the most
delicious fragrancy and perfumes ; whence also men
were to issue, all whose principles were inherent in
him : there being in his belly a vessel, where little
eggs wTere formed 5 and a second vessel filled with a
fluid which impregnated those eggs : and when man
heated himself in the love of God, the desire he had
that other creatures should exist beside himself, to
praise and love God, caused the fluid above mentioned
(by means of the fire of the love of God), to drop on
one or more of these eggs, with inexpressible delight $
which being thus impregnated, issued, some time after,
out of man by this canal i, in the shape of an egg, f i. e. the
whence a perfect man was hatched by insensible de-ra«s«/cana!
grees. Woman was formed by taking out of Adam’ssltuatet* as
side the vessels that contained the eggs; which she^^d C~
still possesses, as is discovered by anatomists.”
Many others have believed that Adam at his first
creation was both male and female: others, that he had
two bodies joined together at the shoulders, and their
faces looking opposite ways like those of Janus.
Hence, say these, when God created Eve, he had no
more to do than to separate the two bodies from one
another J. Of all others, however, the opinion of Pa-j See An-
racelsus seems the mostridiculous||. Negabatprimospa-drogynes.
rentes ante lapsum habuisse partes generationi hominis tie- ll Paraeel-
cessarius; credebatpostea accessisse, ut strumamgutturi.
Extravagant things are asserted concerning Adam’sp^Yoso_
knowledge. It is very probable that he was instructedp/na, c. is.
by the Deity how to accomplish the work appointed p* 7*•
him, viz. to dress the garden, and keep it from being
destroyed by the brute creatures; and it is also proba¬
ble that he had likewise every piece of knowledge com¬
municated to him that was either necessary or pleasing:
but that he was acquainted with geometry, mathema¬
tics, rhetoric, poetry, painting, sculpture, &c. is too
ridiculous to be credited by any sober person. Some
rabbies.
pain or misery. She even la nouvelle
cstacy, she saw the figure Terre,
the manner how, by him- 11181,1
ADA
[ 174 1
ADA
Adam.
* This is
just the
picture of
the Orion
or Polpy-
phcmas of
the poets.
JEneid. iii,
663, 664.
x. 763.
raM/ies, indeed, have contented themselves with equal-
1 ling Adam’s knowledge to that of Moses and Solomon ;
while others, again, have maintained that he excelled
the angels themselves. Several Christians seem to be
little behind these Jews in the degree of knowledge
they ascribe to Adam, nothing being hid from him,
according to them, except contingent events relating
to futurity. One writer indeed (Pinedo) excepts poli¬
tics ", but a Carthusian friar, having exhausted in favour
of Aristotle, every image and comparison he could
think of, at last asserted that Aristotle’s knowledge was
as extensive as that of Adam.—In consequence of this
surprising knowledge with which Adam was endued,
he is supposed to have been a considerable author. The
Jews pretend that he wrote a book on the creation, and
another on the Deity. Some rabbles ascribe the 92!
psalm to Adam ", and in some manuscripts the Chaldee
title of this psalm expressly declares that this is the
song of praise which the first man repeated for the Sab¬
bath day.
Various conjectures have been formed concerning the
place wdiere man was first created, and where the gar¬
den of Eden was situated ; but none of these have any
solid foundation. The Jews tell us, that Eden was se¬
parated from the rest of the world by the ocean 5 and
that Adam, being banished therefrom, walked across
the sea, which he found every way fordable, by reason
of his enormous stature *. The Arabians imagined pa¬
radise to have been in the air j and that our first pa¬
rents were thrown down from it on their transgression,
as Vulcan is said to have been thrown down headlong
from heaven by Jupiter.
Strange stories are told concerning Adam’s children.
That he had none in the state of innocence, is certain
from Scripture ; but that his marriage with Eve was
not consummated till after the fall, cannot be proved
from thence. Some imagine, that, for many years af¬
ter the fall, Adam denied himself the connubial joys
by way of penance ; others, that he cohabited with
another woman, whose name was Lillith. The
Mahometans tell us, that our first parents having been
thrown headlong from the celestial paradise, Adam
fell upon the isle of Serendib, or Ceylon, in the East
Indies 5 and Eve on lodda, a port of the Red sea, not
far from Mecca. After a separation of upwards of
200 years, they met in Ceylon, where they multiplied :
according to some Eve had twenty, according to others
only eight, deliveries $ bringing forth at each time
twins, a mc.le and a female, who afterwards married.
The rabbins imagine that Eve brought forth Cain
and Abel at a birth 5 that Adam wept for Abel a
hundred years in the valley of tears near Hebron, du¬
ring which time he did not cohabit with his wife 5 and
that this separation would probably have continued
longer, had it not been forbid by the angel Gabriel.
The inhabitants of Ceylon affirm, that the salt lake on
the mountain of Colombo consists wholly of the tears
which Eve for one hundred years together shed because
of Abel’s death.
Some of the Arabians tell us, that Adam was bu¬
ried near Mecca on Mount Abukobeis ; others, that
Noah, having laid his body in the ark, caused it to
be carried after the deluge to Jerusalem by Melchise-
deck the son of Shem : of this opinion are the eastern
Christians j but the Persians affirm that he was interred
2
in the isle of Serendib, where his corpse was guarded by
lions at the time the giants warred upon one another. *-
Some are of opinion that he was buried at Jerusalem,
on the place where Christ suffered, that so his bones
might be sprinkled with the Saviour’s blood.
Adam, Alexander, late rector ol the high school
of Edinburgh, and author of several useful works. See
Supplement.
Adam, Melchior, lived in the 17th century. He
was. born in the territory of Grotkaw in Silesia, and
educated in the college of Brieg, where the dukes of
that name, to the utmost of their power, encouraged
learning and the reformed religion as professed by Cal¬
vin. Here he became a firm Protestant; and was
enabled to pursue his studies by the liberality of a per¬
son of quality, who had left several exhibitions for
young students. He was appointed rector of a col¬
lege at Heidelberg, where he published his first volume
of illustrious men in the year 1615. This volume,
which consisted of philosophers, poets, writers on po¬
lite literature, and historians, &c. was followed by
three others : that which treated of divines was printed
in 16195 that of the lawyers came next 5 and, finally,
that of the physicians: the two last were published in
1620. All the learned men, whose lives are contain¬
ed in these four volumes, lived in the 16th, or begin¬
ning of the 17th century, and are either Germans or
Flemings 5 but he published in 1618 the lives of twenty
divines of other countries in a separate volume. All
his divines are Protestants. The Lutherans were not
pleased with him, for they thought him partial j aud
will not allow his work to be a proper standard of the
learning of Germany. He was the author of several
other works besides his lives. His industry as a bio-
gx-apher is commended by Bayle, who acknowledges
his obligations to his labours. He died in 1622.
Adam, Robert, an eminent architect, was born at
Edinburgh in the year 1728. He was the second son
ef William Adam, Esq. of Maryburgh, in the county
of Fife, who has also left some respectable specimens
of his genius and abilities as an architect in Hope-
toun house, and the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh,
which were erected from designs executed by him. And
it was perhaps owing to the fortunate circumstance of
his father’s example that young Adam first directed
his attention to those studies, in the prosecution of
which he afterwards rose to such distinguished celebrity.
He received his education at the university of Edin¬
burgh, where he had an opportunity of improving and
enlarging his mind, by the conversation and acquaint¬
ance of some of the first literary characters of the age,
who were then rising into reputation, or have since esta¬
blished their fame as historians and philosophers. A-
mong these were Mr Home, Dr Robertson, Dr Smith,
and Dr Ferguson, who were the friends and compa¬
nions of the father, and who continued through life
their friendship and attachment to the son.
In the year 1754 Mr Adam travelled to the conti¬
nent, with a view to extend his knowledge and im¬
prove his taste in architecture, and resided in Italy for
three years. Here he surveyed and studied those noble
specimens of ancient grandeur which the magnificent
public edifices of the Romans, even in ruins, still ex¬
hibit. But he saw with regret, that the public build¬
ings, constructed with more durable materials and
greater
Adatn.
ADA
'•'km. greater strength and solidity, had alone been able to
,1^—;resist, during the lapse of ages, the injuries of time,
and the more destructive hand of the northern barba¬
rians, whose progress was marked with ruin and deso¬
lation. Not a vestige of any of the private buildings
of the wealthy citizens, which have been described and
celebrated by their writers for their magnificence, now
remains*, and even the situation of some of the splendid
villas of the luxurious Romans is scarcely known. In
tracing the progress of architecture and the other fine
arts among the Romans, Mr Adam observed that they
had visibly declined previous to the time of Dioclesian;
but he was also convinced that the liberal patronage
and magnificence of that emperor had revived during
his reign a better taste for architecture, and had form¬
ed artists who were capable of imitating the more ele¬
gant stile of a purer age. He had seen this remark¬
ably exemplified in the public baths at Rome, which
were erected by him, the most entire and the noblest
of the ancient buildings. Admiring the extent and
fertility of genius of the artists, from whose designs
such magnificent structures had been executed, he was
anxious to see and study any remains that yet existed
of those masters whose works are striking monuments
of an elegant and improved taste, but whose names,
amid the wrecks of time, have sunk into oblivion. It
was with this view that he undertook a voyage to Spa-
latro, in Dalmatia, to visit and examine the private pa¬
lace of Dioclesian, in which that emperor resided for
nine years previous to bis death, and to which he re¬
tired in the year 305, when he resigned the government
of the empire. Mr Adam sailed from Venice in July
1754, accompanied by M. Clerisseau, a French artist
and antiquarian, and two experienced draughtsmen. On
their arrival at Spalatro, they found that though the pa¬
lace had suffered much from the injuries of time, yet it
had sustained no less from the dilapidations of the inha¬
bitants to procure materials for building, and even the
foundations of the ancient structure were covered with
modern houses. With high expectations of success,
they commenced their labours, but were soon inter¬
rupted by the jealous vigilance of the government.
Suspecting that their object was to view and make plans
of the fortifications, an immediate and peremptory or¬
der was issued by the governor, commanding them to
desist. This order, however, was soon counteracted
through the mediation of General Graeme, the com¬
mander in chief of the Venetian forces j and they were
permitted to proceed in their undertaking. They re¬
sumed their labours with double ardour, and in five
weeks finished plans and views of the fragments which
remain, from which they were enabled to execute per¬
fect designs of the entire building.
Mr Adam now returned to England, and soon rose
to very considerable professional eminence. In 1762
he was appointed architect to the king, and the year
following he presented to the public the fruit of his
voyage to Spalatro, in a splendid work dedicated to his
majesty, which contains engravings and descriptions of
the ruins of the palace. A later traveller, the Abbe
Fortis, speaking of the ruins of this palace, says, “ I
will not pretend to mention the great Roman remains,
for which this noble city is chiefly known and cele¬
brated. The lovers of architecture and antiquity are
sufficiently acquainted with them by the work of Mr
ADA
Adam, who has done full justice to these superb vest!- Adam,
ges by his elegant drawings and engravings. In gene- —y——
ral, however, the coarseness of the work, and the bad
taste of the age are equal to the magnificence of the
buildings. For all this, I do not mean to detract from
the merit of the august remains of Dioclesian’s palace.
I count them among the most respectable monuments
of antiquity now extant.” And the historian of the
Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, in consequence
of this observation, after having expressed a high com¬
mendation of the work, has thrown out a suspicion of
the accuracy of the representations and descriptions.
“ For the account of Dioclesian’s palace, says Mr Gib¬
bon, w7e are indebted to an ingenious artist of our own
time and country, whom a very liberal curiosity had car¬
ried into the heart of Dalmatia. But there is room to
suspect that the elegance of his designs and engravings
has somewhat flattered the objects which it was their-
purpose to represent. We are informed by a more re¬
cent and very judicious traveller, that the awful ruins
of Spalatro are not less expressive of the decline of the
arts, than of the greatness of the Roman empire in the .
time of Dioclesian.” Mr Gibbon’s criticism is scarcely
supported by the observation of the Abbe Fortis} and
what the latter has advanced on this subject is not per¬
fectly consistent with itself: for while he censures th®
coarseness of the work and Rie bad taste of the age, he
bestows something like indirect praise, when he adds
that, he means not to detract from the merit of the
august remains of this edifice, and regards it as one of
the most respectable monuments of antiquity now ex¬
tant. The apparent coarseness of the work is probably
owing to the effects of the weather, which have de¬
stroyed the smooth polish of the chissel which it origi¬
nally received 5 and Mr Adam allows, that, previous
to this period of the Roman empire, the arts had visi¬
bly declined, but at the same time contends, that the
buildings erected in the reign of Dioclesian, exhibit
convincing proofs of the stile and manner of a purer
age. But of this, the admirer of this elegant art may
judge for himself, by consulting the engravings and
descriptions, the accuracy and faithfulness of which
there seems to be no reason to doubt.
In the year 1768 Mr Adam obtained a seat in par¬
liament. He was chosen to represent the county of
Kinross ; and about the same time he resigned his of¬
fice of architect to the king. But he continued his
professional cai’eer with increasing reputation ; and a-
bout the year 1773, in conjunction with bis brother
James, who also rose to considerable eminence as an ar¬
chitect, he published another splendid work, consisting
of plans and elevations of public and private buildings
which were erected from their designs. Among these
are Lord Mansfield’s house at Caenwood, Luton house
in Bedfordshire belonging to Lord Bute, the new Gate¬
way of the Admiralty Office, the Register Office at
Edinburgh, &c. which are universally admired as pre¬
cious monuments of elegant design and correct taste.
The Adelphi buildings at London, which are also strik¬
ing examples of the inventive genius of the Messrs A-
dam, proved an unsuccessful speculation. The wealth
and power of a nation were perhaps only equal to so
extensive an undertaking : it was too great to be at¬
tempted by private citizens.
The buildings which have been more lately erected
from
[ 17s J
ADA ADA
from the designs of Mr Adam, afford additional proofs
of the unlimited extent of his invention, ami the amaz¬
ing fertility of his genius. Those parts of the new
University of Edinburgh which have been completed,
and the Infirmary at Glasgow, need only be mentioned
in proof of our remark. The latter edifice we have
ftften beheld and contemplated with those feelings of
admiration, elevated to a kind of rapturous enthusiasm,
which the rare union of perfect symmetry and elegant
disposition of parts combined with inexpressible beauty
and lightness into one whole seldom fails to inspire.
We have also seen and admired elegant designs execu¬
ted by Mr Adam, which were intended for the South
Bridge and South Bridge Street of Edinburgh, and if
they had been adopted, would have added much to the
decoration of that quarter of the town j but being con¬
sidered unsuitable to the taste or economy of the times,
they were rejected.
Strange incongruities appear in buildings which have
been erected from designs by Mr Adam. But of these
it must be observed, that they have been altered and
mutilated in the execution, according to the capricious
fancy and vulgar taste of the owners 5 and it is well
known that a slight deviation changes the character
and mars the effect of the general design. A lady of
rank was furnished by Mr Adam with a design of a
house, which, after being executed, he was astonished
to find out of all proportion. On inquiring the cause,
he was informed that the pediment which he had de¬
signed would not admit a piece of rude sculpture which
represented the arms of the family, and by the date
which it bore incontestably proved its antiquity. It
was therefore absolutely necessary to enlarge the di¬
mensions of the pediment, to receive this ancient badge
of family honour, and sacrifice the beauty and propor¬
tion of the whole building. We have seen a large
public edifice which was also designed by Air Adam j
but when it was erected, the length was curtailed of
the space of two windows, while the other parts re¬
mained according to the original plan. It now pre¬
sents a heavy unsightly pile, instead of that elegance
of proportion and correctness of style which the faith¬
ful execution of Mr Adam’s design would have pro¬
bably exhibited.
To the last period of his life, Air Adam displayed
an increasing vigour of genius and refinement of taste j
for, in the space of one year preceding his death, he
designed eight great public works, besides twenty-five
private buildings, so various in their style, and beautiful
in their composition, that they have been allowed by the
best judges, sufficient of themselves to establish his
fame unrivalled as an artist. The present improved
taste, which now pretty generally prevails in our pub¬
lic and private edifices, undoubtedly owes much to the
elegant and correct style introduced by Mr Adam.
His fertile genius was not confined merely to the ex¬
ternal decoration of buildings j it displayed itself with
equal effect in the internal arrangement and disposition
of the apartments, and in the varied, elegant, and
beautiful ornaments of chimney pieces and ceilings.
But not only did he introduce a total change in the
architecture of the country, the manufactures also
which are in any way connected with decoration, ex¬
perienced a considerable degree of improvement by the
exercise of his inventive powers. His talents extend- Adair
ed beyond the line of his own profession $ he displayed 1[
in his numerous drawings in landscape, a luxuriance of, A^an>
composition, and an effect of light and shadow which
have rarely been equalled.
He died on the 3d of March 1792, by the bursting
of a blood-vessel, in the 64th year of his age, and was
buried in Westminster Abbey. His funeral was at¬
tended by a select number of friends, some of them of
distinguished rank, who esteemed him while living,
and who wished to express this last mark of regard.
The many elegant buildings, public and private, erect¬
ed in various parts of the kingdom, from the designs
of Air Adam, will remain lasting monuments of his
taste and genius; and the natural suavity of his man¬
ners, joined to the excellence of his moral character,
secured to him the affectionate regard of his friends,
and the esteem of all who enjoyed his acquaintance.
James Adani, whom we have already mentioned as
associated with his brother in many of his labours, died
on the 20th October 1794.
Adjih's Appfe, a name given to a species ef Citrus.
See Botany Index.
Adam's Bridge, or Rama's Bridge, in Geography, a
ridge of sands and rocks, extending across the north
end of Manara gulf, from the island of that name on
the north-west coast of Ceylon, to Ramencote or Ra-
mankoil island, off’Raman point.
Adam's Needle. See Yucca, Botany Index.
Adam's Peak, a high mountain of the East Indies,
in the island of Ceylon, on the top of which it is be¬
lieved the first man was created. It is in the form of
a sugar loaf, and terminates in a circolar plain about
200 paces in diameter. The summit is covered with
trees, and has a deep lake which supplies the princi¬
pal rivers of the island. The mountain is seen at the
distance of twenty leauges from sea. It is situated in
N. Lat. 5. 55. E. Long. 80. 39. See Adam.
Adam or Adom, a town in the Persea, or on the
other side of the Jordan, over against Jericho, where the
Jordan began to be dried up on the passage of the Israe¬
lites, (Joshua).
ADAMA, or Admah, one of the towns that were
involved in the destruction of Sodom ; (Moses).
ADAAIANT, a name sometimes given to the dia¬
mond. (See Diamond). It is likewise applied to the
scoriae of gold, the magnet, &c.
ADAMARA, in Geography, a district of Abys¬
sinia, near the province of Waldubba, containing se¬
veral considerable villages, that are inhabited by Ala-
hometans j who by their number and strength contri¬
bute to the safety of the monks in that part of the
country. It is so called from Adama, which in the
Amharic dialect signifies pleasant, the name of an ad¬
jacent mountain. The river Anzo runs in a contigu¬
ous valley. {Bruce's Travels, 410, vol. iii. p. 179.)*
ADAMIC EARTH, a name given to common red
clay, alluding to that species of earth of which the first
man is supposed to have been made.
ADAMI pomum, in Anatomy, a protuberance in
the fore part of the throat, formed by the os hyoides.
It is thought to be so called upon a strange conceit,
that a piece of the forbidden apple, which Adam ate,
stuck by the way and occasioned it.
ADAMITES,
damites
ADA f i
ADAMITES, or Adamians, in ecclesiastical hi¬
story, the name of a sect of ancient heretics, supposed
iamson. t0 have {jeen a branch of the Basilidians and Carpocra-
v ’tians.
Epiphanius tells us, that they were called Adamites
from their pretending to be re-established in the state
of innocence, and to be such as Adam was at the mo¬
ment of his creation, whence they ought to imitate him
in his nakedness. They rejected marriage j maintain¬
ing, that the conjugal union would never have taken
place upon earth had sin been unknown.
This obscure and ridiculous sect did not at first last
long j but it was revived, with additional absurdities,
in the twelfth century, by one Tandamus, since known
by the name of Tanchelin, who propagated his errors
at Antwerp, in the reign of the emperor Henry V.
He maintained, that there ought to be no distinction
between priests and laymen, and that fornication and
adultery were meritorious actions. Tanchelin had a
great number of followers, and was constantly attended
by 3000 of these profligates in arms. His sect did not
however continue long after his death ; but another
appeared under the name of Turlupins^ in Savoy and
Dauphiny, where they committed the most brutal ac¬
tions in open day.
About the beginning of the fifteenth century, one
Picard, a native of Flanders, spread these errors in
Germany and Bohemia, particularly in the army of
the famous Zisca, notwithstanding the severe discipline
he maintained. Picard pretended that he was sent into
the world as a new Adam, to re-establish the law of
nature 5 and which, according to him, consisted in ex¬
posing every part of the body, and having all the wo¬
men in common. This sect found also some partisans
in Poland, Holland, and England : they assembled in
the night $ and it is asserted, that one of the funda¬
mental maxims of their society was contained in the
following verse :
Jura, perjura, secretum prodere noli.
ADAMS, in Geography, a township of Berkshire
county, in the state of Massachusets in North America.
Ft is 140 miles north-west of Boston, and contains 2040
inhabitants. In the northern part of this district, a
stream called Hudson’s brook, has worn a channel
through a stratum of white marble, and over the chan¬
nel the rocks form a fine natural bridge, which is 12 or
15 feet long, 10 feet broad, and more than 60 feet
above the water.
ADAMSHIDE, a district of the circle of Rasten-
burg, belonging to the king of Prussia, which, with
Dombrosken, was bought, in 1737, for 42,000 dollars.
ADAMSON, Patrick, a Scottish prelate, arch¬
bishop of St Andrew’s, was born in the year 1543 in
the town of Perth, where he received the rudiments of
his education 5 and afterwards studied philosophy, and
took his degree of master of arts at the university of
St Andrew’s. In the year 1566, he set out for Paris,
as tutor to a young gentleman. In the month of
June of the same year, Mary queen of Scots being de¬
livered of a son, afterwards James VI. of Scotland and
!• of England, Mr Adamson wrote a Latin poem on
the occasion. In this poem he gave the prince the
title of king of France and England, and this proof
of his loyalty involved him in difficulties; for the
Vol. I. Part I. f
77 ] ADA
French court was oflended, and ordered him to be ar¬
rested j and he was confined for six months. He was
released only through the intercession of Queen Mary,
and some ol the principal nobility, who interested them¬
selves in his behalf. As soon as he recovered his li¬
berty, he retired with his pupil to Bourges. He was
in this city during the massacre at Paris ; and the same
persecuting spirit prevailing among the Catholics at
Bourges as at the metropolis, he lived concealed for
seven months in a public house, the master of which,
upwards of 70 years of age, was thrown from the top
thereof, and had his brains dashed out, for his charity
to heretics. Whilst Mr Adamson lay thus in his se¬
pulchre, as he called it, he wrote his Latin poetical
version of the book of Job, and his tragedy of Herod
in the same language. In the year 1573, he returned
to Scotland; and, having entered into holy orders, be¬
came minister of Paisley. In the year 1575, he was
appointed one of the commissioners, by the general as¬
sembly, to settle the jurisdiction and policy of the
church ; and the following year he was named, with
Mr David Lindsay, to report their proceedings to the
earl of Morton, then regent. About this time the
earl appointed him one of his chaplains ; and, on the
death of Bishop Douglas, promoted him to the archie-
piscopal see of St Andrew’s, a dignity which brought
upon him great trouble and uneasiness : for now the
clamour ot the Presbyterian party rose very high against
him, and many inconsistent absurd stories were propa¬
gated concerning him. Soon after his promotion, he
published his catechism in Latin verse, a work highly
approved even by his enemies ; but, nevertheless, they
still continued to persecute him with great violence.
In 1578, he submitted himself to the general assembly,
which procured him peace but for a very little time ;
for the year following, fresh accusations were brought
against him. In the year 1582, being attacked with
a grievous disease, in which the physicians could give
him no relief, he happened to take a simple medicine
from an old woman, which did him service. The wo¬
man, whose name was Alison Pearson, was thereupon
charged with witchcraft, and committed to prison, but
escaped out of her confinement ; however, about four
years afterwards, she was again found and burnt for a
witch. In 1583, King James came to St Andrew’s ;
and the archbishop, being much recovered, preached
before him, and disputed with Mr Andrew Melvil, in
presence of his majesty, with great reputation ; which
drew upon him fresh calumny and persecution. The
king, however, was so well pleased with him, that he
sent him ambassador to Queen Elizabeth, at whose
court he resided for some years. His conduct, during
his embassy, has been variously reported by different
authors. Two things he principally laboured, viz. the
recommending the king his master to the nobility and
gentry of England, and the procuring some support for
the episcopal party in Scotland. His eloquent preach¬
ing drew after him such crowds of people, and raised
in their minds such a high idea of the young king his
master, that Queen Elizabeth forbade him to enter the
pulpit during his stay in her dominions. In 1584, he
was recalled, and sat in the parliament held in August
at Edinburgh. The Presbyterian party was still very
violent against the archbishop. A provincial synod
was held at St Andrew’s in April 1586: the arch-
Z bishpp
AdamsoiL
ADA [ 178 ] A D D
Adamson bishop was here accused and excommunicated: he ap-
II pealed to the king and the states, but this availed him
Adanson. ^ fov the* mob being excited against him, he*durst
scarcely appear in public. At the next general assem¬
bly, a paper being produced, containing the archbi¬
shop’s submission, he was absolved from the excommu¬
nication. In 1588, fresh accusations were brought a-
gainst him. The year following he published the La¬
mentations of the prophet Jeremiah in Latin verse 5
which he dedicated to the king, complaining of his hard
usage. In the latter end of the same year, he publish¬
ed a translation of the Apocalypse in Latin verse j and
a copy of Latin verses, addressed also to his majesty,
deploring his distress. The king, however, was not
moved by his application ; for the revenue of his see
was granted to the duke of Lennox; so that the pre¬
late and his family were literally reduced to the want
of bread. During the remaining part of his unfortu¬
nate life he was supported by charitable contribution,
and he died in 1591. The character of this prelate
has been variously represented, according to the senti¬
ments of religion and politics which prevailed. But
there is little doubt that he eucouraged and supported,
tinder the authority of the king, oppressive and injuri¬
ous measures. Bigotted and timid, he wanted that
firmness and intrepidity, which promise steadiness and
uniformity of conduct in the conspicuous characters of
turbulent times. His learning was unquestioned j and
he acquired great reputation as a popular preacher. In
his adversity he submitted with pious resignation to his
hard fate. The panegyric of the editor of his works,
Mr Wilson, is extravagant and absurd. He says, that
“ he was a miracle of nature, and rather seemed to be
the immediate production of God Almighty, than born
of a woman.”
AD AMDS. The philosopher’s stone is so called by
alchemists 5 they say it is an animal, and that it has
carried its invisible Eve in its body, since the moment
they were united by the Creator.
ADANA, in Geography, a town of Asia Minor, in
Natolia, and in the province of Caramania. It is si¬
tuated on the river Choquen; on the banks of which
stands a small but strong castle built on a rock. It has
a great number of beautiful fountains brought from the
river by means of water-works. Over the river there
is a stately bridge of fifteen arches, which leads to the
water-works. The climate is pleasant and healthy,
and the winter mild and serene : but the summer is so
hot as to oblige the principal inhabitants to retire to
the neighbouring mountains, where they spend six
months among shady trees and grottoes, in a most deli¬
cious manner. The adjacent country is rich and fer¬
tile, and produces melons, cucumbers, pomegranates,
pulse, and herbs of all sorts, all the year round; be¬
sides corn, wine, and fruits in their proper season. It
is 30 miles north-east of Tarsus, on the road to Aleppo.
E. Long. 36. 12. N. Lat. 38. 10.
ADANSON, Michael, a celebrated naturalist,
was born at Aix in Provence in the year 1727. He
•was sent to Paris in early life, and devoted his studies
with great assiduity to medicine, botany, and astro¬
nomy, and was a pupil of the celebrated Reaumur.
He went to Senegal in the year 1748, where he re¬
mained six years examining the natural productions of
that country. He presented the fruits of his discove-
2
ries in geography and natural hisory to the Royal Adam*,,-,
Academy} and in consequence of these communica- jj
tions he was appointed one of their corresponding mem- Adder,
hers. In the year 1759, on the death of Reaumur he ^
was elected a member in his place j and about the same
time he was admitted an honorary member of the Royal
Society of London. Having spent six years in Sene¬
gal, he returned to Paris, where he published a work
entitled Histoire Naturelle clu Senega!, in 4to; and in
1763 his Families des Plantes, 2 vols 8vo. In the year
1775 he presented to the academy the plan of a natu¬
ral history, which he did not live to execute. He died
on the 3d of August 1806. See Adanson, M. Suf-
PLEMENT.
ADANSONIA, Ethiopian Sour-gourd, Mon-
keys-bread, or African Calabash-tree. See Bo-
TANY Index.
ADAR, the name of a Hebrew month, answering
to the end of February and beginning of March, the
12th of their sacied, and 6th of their civil year. On
the 7th day of it, the Jews keep a fast for the death of
Mosesj on the 13th, they have the feast of Esther:
and on the 14th, they celebrate the feast of Purim, for
their deliverance from Haman’s conspiracy. As the
lunar year which the Jews followed in their calcula¬
tions, is shorter than the solar by about 11 days, which
at the end of three years make a month, they then in¬
tercalate a 13th month, which they call Veadar, or the
second Adar.
ADARCE, a kind of concreted salts found on reeds
and other vegetables, and applied by the ancients as a
remedy in several cutaneous diseases.
ADARCON, in Jewish antiquity, a gold coin men¬
tioned in Scripture, worth about 15s. sterling.
ADARME, in Commerce, a small weight in Spain,
which is also used at Buenos Ayres, and in all Spanish
America. It is the i6th part of an ounce, which at
Paris is called the demi-gros. But the Spanish ounce
is seven per cent, lighter than that of Paris. Stephens
renders it in English by a drachm.
ADATAIS, Adatsi, or Adatys, in Commerce, a
muslin or cotton cloth, very fine and cleai’, of which
the piece is ten French ells long, and three quarters
broad. It comes from the East Indies j and the finest
is made in Bengal.
ADCORDABILIS denarii, in old law books,
signify money paid by the vassal to his lord, upon the
selling or exchanging of a fend.
ADCRESCENTES, among the Romans, denoted a
kind of soldiery, entered in the army, but not yet put
on duty ; from these the standing forces were recruited.
See Accensi.
ADDA, in Geography, a river of Switzerland and
Italy, which rises in Mount Branlio, in the country of
the Grisons, and, passing through the Valteline, tra¬
verses the lake Como and the Milanese, and falls into
the Po, near Cremona.
ADDEPHAGIA , in Medicine, a term used by some
physicians, for gluttony, or a voracious appetite.
ADDER, in Zoology, a name for the Viper. See
Coluber.
Adder-BoIIs, or Adder-flies. See LibELLULA.
Sea Adder, the English name for a species of Syn-
gnathus.
TFater Adder, a name given to the Coluber. Natrix.
Adder-
add [ 179 ] ADD
idder Adder-stwig, is used in respect of cattle, when
!j stung by any kind of poisonous reptiles, as adders,
scorpions, &c. or bit by a hedgehog or shrew.—For
the cure of such bites, some use an ointment made of
dragon’s blood, with a little barley meal, and the whites
of eggs.
StDDER-tvort, or Snakeweed. See Polygonum.
ADDEXTRATORES, in the court of Rome, the
pope’s mitre-bearers, so called according to JDucange,
because they walk at the pope’s right hand when he
rides to visit the churches.
ADDICE, or Adze, a kind of crooked axe used
by shipwrights, carpenters, coopers, &c.
ADDICTI, in antiquity, a kind of slaves, among
the Romans, adjudged to serve some creditor whom
they could not otherwise satisfy, and whose slaves they
became till they could pay or work out the debt.
ADDICTION, among the Romans, was the ma¬
king over goods to another, either by sale or by legal
sentence •, the goods so delivered were called bona ad-
dicta. Debtors were sometimes delivered over in the
same manner; and thence called servi addicti.
AD DIG I'lO in diem, among the Romans, the ad¬
judging a thing to a person for a certain price, unless
by such a day the owner, or some other, give more
for it.
ADDISON, Lancelot, son of Lancelot Addison
a clergyman, was born in the parish of Crosby-Ravens-
worth in Westmoreland, in the year 1632. He was
educated at Queen’s College, Oxford ; and at the re¬
storation of King Charles II. accepted of the chaplain¬
ship of the garrison of Dunkirk : but that fortress
being delivered up to the French in 1662, he return¬
ed to England, and was soon after made chaplain to
the garrison of Tangier j where he continued seven
years, and was greatly esteemed. In 1670, he re¬
turned to England, and was made chaplain in ordinary
to the king; but his chaplainship of Tangier being
taken from him on account of his absence, he found
himself straitened in his circumstances, when he sea¬
sonably obtained the rectory of Milston in Wiltshire,
worth about 120I. per annum. He afterwards became
a prebendary of Sarum ; took his degree of doctor of
divinity at Oxford; and in 1683 was made dean of
Litchfield, and the next year archdeacon of Coventry.
His life was exemplary ; his conversation pleasing, and
greatly instructive ; and his behaviour as a gentleman,
a clergyman, and a neighbour, did honour to the place
of his residence. He wrote, 1. A Short Narrative of
the Revolutions of the Kingdoms of Fex and Morocco :
2. The present history of the Jews: 3. A Discourse
on Catechising : 4. A Modest Plea for the Clergy :
5. An Introduction to the Sacrament: 6. The first
State of Mahometism : and several other pieces. This
worthy divine died on the 20th of April 1703, and
left three sons : Joseph, the subject of the next article ;
Gulston, who died while governor of Fort St George ;
Lancelot, master of arts, and fellow of Magdalen col¬
lege in Oxford : and one daughter, first married to Dr
Sarte, prebendary of Westminster, and afterwards to
Daniel Combes, Esq.
Addison, Joseph, the son of the preceding Dean
Addison, was born at Milston, near Ambresbury, in
Wiltshire, on the nth of May 1672; and not being
thought likely to live, was baptized the same day. He
received the first rudiments of his education at the Addbou.
place of his nativity under the reverend Mr Naish ; -v~ -
but was soon removed to Salisbury under the care of
Mr Taylor ; and from thence to the Charter-house,
where his acquaintance with Sir Richard Steele com¬
menced. About the age of fifteen, he was entered at
Queen’s college, Oxford, where he applied very closely
to the study ot classical learning, in which he made a
surprising proficiency.
In the year 1687, Dr Lancaster, dean of Magda¬
len college, having by chance seen a Latin poem of
Mr Addison’s, was so pleased with it, that he imme¬
diately got him elected into that house, where he took
up his degrees of bachelor and master of arts. His La¬
tin pieces in the course of a few years, were exceedingly
admired in both universities ; nor were they less esteem¬
ed abroad, particularly by the celebrated Boileau, who
is reported to have said, that he would not have written
against Perrault, had he before seen such excellent pieces
by a modern hand. He published nothing in English
before the twenty-second year of his age ; when there
appeared a short copy of verses written by him, and ad¬
dressed to Mr Dryden, which procured him great re¬
putation from the best judges. This was soon follow¬
ed by a translation of the Fourth Georgic of Virgil,
(omitting the story of Aristseus), much commended by
Mr Dryden. He wrote also the Essay on the Geor¬
gies, prefixed to Mr Dryden’s translation. There are
several other pieces written by him about this time ;
amongst the rest, one dated the third of April 1694,
addressed to H. S. that is, Dr Sacheverel, who be¬
came afterwards so famous, and with whom Mr Addi¬
son lived once in the greatest friendship ; but their in¬
timacy was some time after broken off by their disagree¬
ment in political principles. In the year 1695 he wrote
a poem to King William on one of his campaigns, ad¬
dressed to Sir John Somers, lord-keeper of the great
seal. This gentleman received it with great pleasure,
took the author into the number of his friends, and be¬
stowed on him many marks of his favour.
Mr Addison had been closely pressed, while at the
university, to enter into holy orders; and had once re¬
solved upon it: but his great modesty, his natural dif¬
fidence, and an uncommonly delicate sense of the im¬
portance of the sacred function, made him afterwards
alter his resolution ; and having expressed an inclina¬
tion to travel, he was encouraged thereto by his patron
above-mentioned, who by his interest procured him
from the crown a pension of 300I. per annum to sup¬
port him in his travels. He accordingly made a tour
to Italy in the year 1699 ; and in 1701, lx? wrote a
poetical epistle from Italy to the earl of Flalifax, which
has been universally esteemed as a most excellent per¬
formance. It was translated into Italian verse by the '
abbot Antonio Maria Salvini, Greek professor at Flo¬
rence. In the year 1705, he published an account of
his travels, dedicated to Lord Somers ; which, though
at first but indifferently received, yet in a little time
met with its deserved applause.
In the year 1702, he was about to return to Eng¬
land, when he received advice of his being appointed
to attend Prince Eugene, who then commanded for the
emperor in Italy ; but the death of King William hap¬
pening soon after, put an end to this affair as well as hia
pension ; and he remained for a considerable time un-
Z 2 employed.
ADD [ 180 ] ADD
Addison, employed. But an unexpected incident at once raised afterwards assisted considerably in carrying on tins pa- Addiso
■“'■“V—him, and gave him an opportunity of exerting his fine per, which the author acknowledges. The Tatler be-
talents to advantage: for in the year 1704, the lord ing laid down, the Spectator w'as set on foot, and Mr
treasurer Godolphin happened to complain to Lord Ha- Addison furnished great part of the most admired pa-
lifax, that the duke of Marlborough’s victory at Blen- pers. The Spectator made its first appearance in March
heim had not been celebrated in verse in the manner it 1711, and was brought to a conclusion in September
deserved ; and intimated, that he would take it kindly 1712.
if his lordship, who was the known patron of the poets, His celebrated Cato appeared in 1713. He formed
would name a gentleman capable of doing justice to so the design of a tragedy upon this subject when he was
elevated a subject. Lord Halifax replied, somewhat very young, and wrote it when on his travels j he re-
hastily, that he did know such a person, but would touched it in England, without any intention of bring-
not mention him ; adding, that long had he seen with ing it on the stage ; but his friends being persuaded it
indignation, men of no merit maintained in luxury at would serve the cause of liberty, he was prevailed on
the public expence, whilst those of real worth and mo- by their solicitations, and it was accordingly exhibited
desty were suffered to languish in obscurity. The on the theatre, with a prologue by Mr Pope, and an
treasurer answered very coolly, that he was sorry there epilogue by Hr Garth. It was received with the most
should be occasion for such an observation, but that he uncommon applause, having run thirty-five nights with-
would do his endeavour to wipe off such reproaches for out interruption. The Whigs applauded every line in
the future •, and he engaged his honour, that whoever which liberty was mentioned, as a satire on the To-
his lordship named, as a person capable of celebrating ries 5 and the Tories echoed every clap, to shew that
this victory, should meet with a suitable recompense, the satire was unfelt. When it was printed, notice
Lord Halifax thereupon named Mr Addison ; insisting, was given that the queen would be pleased if it was
however, that the treasurer himself should send to him j dedicated to her hut as he had designed that com-
which he promised. Accordingly he prevailed on Mr pliment elsewhere, he found himself obliged, “ says
Boyle (afterwards Lord Carlton) then chancellor of ■ Tickell,” by his duty on the one hand, and his ho-
the exchequer, to m ike the proposal to Mr Addison j nour on the other, to send it into the world without
which he did in so polite a manner, that our author any dedication.” It was no less esteemed abroad, hav-
readiiy undertook the task. The lord-treasurer had a ing been translated into French, Italian, and German j
sight of the piece, when it was carried no farther than and it was acted at Leghorn, and several other places,
the celebrated simile of the angel; and was so pleased with vast applause. The Jesuits of St Omers made a
with it, that he immediately appointed Mr Addison a Latin version of it, and the students acted it with great
commissioner of appeals, vacant by the promotion of magnificence.
Mr Locke, chosen one of the lords commissioners for About this time another paper called the Guardian,
trade. The Campaign is addressed to the duke of was published by Steele, to which Addison was a prin-
Marlborough j it gives a short view of the military cipal contributor. It was a continuation of the Spec-
transactions in 1704, and contains a noble description tator, and was distinguished by the same elegance and
of the two great actions at Schellemberg and Blenheim. the same variety j but, in consequence of Steele’s pro-
In 1705, he attended Lord Halifax to Ilanover ; and pensity to politics, was abruptly discontinued in order
the ensuing year was appointed under secretary to Sir to write the Englishman.
Charles Hedges secretary of state ; in which office be The papers of Addison are marked in the Spectator
acquitted himself so well, that the earl of Sunderland, by one of the letters in the name of CVfo, and in the
who succeeded Sir Charles in December, continued Mr Guardian by a Hand. Many of these papers were
Addison in his employment. written with powers truly comic, with nice discrimina-
A taste for operas beginning at this time to prevail tion of characters, and accurate observation of na-
in England, and many persons having solicited Mr Ad- tural or accidental deviations from propriety : but it
dison to write one, he complied with their request, and was not supposed that he had tried a comedy on the
composed his Rosamond. This, however, whether stage, till Steele, after his death, declared him the au-
from the defect of the music, or from the prejudices thor of “ The Drummer.” This, however, he did not
in favour of the Italian taste, did not succeed upon the know to be true by any cogent testimony : for when
stage; but the poetry of it has been, and always will be Addison put the play into his hands, he only told
justly admired. About this time, Sir Richard Steele him it was the work of a gentleman in the com-
copiposed his comedy of the Tender Husband, to which pany j when it was received, as is confessed, with
Mr Addison wrote a prologue. Sir Richard surprised cold disapprobation, he was probably less willing to
him with a dedicarion of this play, and acquainted the claim it. Tickell omittid it in his collection j but the
public, that he was indebted to him for some of the testimony of Steele, and the total silence of any other
mc-t excellent strokes in the performance. The mar- claimant, has determined the public to assign it to Ad-
quis of Wharton, being appointed lord lieutenant of dison, and it is now printed with his other poetry.
Ireland in I7C9; Mr Aodison with him as his Steele carried “the Drummer” to the playhouse, and
secretary. Her Majesty also made him keeper oi the afterwards to the press, anil sold the copy for 50 gui-
xecords of Ireland, and as a farther mark of her fa- neas. To Steele’s opinion mav be added the proof
vour, considerably augmented the salary annexed to supplied by the play itself, of which the characters are
that place. Whilst he was in this kingdom, the Tat- such as Addison would have delineated, and the ten-
ler was first published ; and he discovered his friend dency such as Addison would have promoted.
Sir Richard Steele to be the author, by an observation It is said that Mr Addison intended to have com*
cm Virgil, which he nad communicated to him. He posed an English dictionary upon the plan of the Italian
(Della,
ADD f i
Madison. (Della Crasca) j but, upon the death of the queen,
Z-y—! bein<f appointed secretary to the lords justices, he had
not leisure to carry on such a work. When the earl of
Sunderland was appointed lord lieutenant of Ireland,
Mr Addison was again made secretary for the affairs
of that kingdom : and, upon the earl’s being removed
from the lieutenancy, he was chosen one of the lords
of trade.
Not long afterwards an attempt was made to revive
the Spectator, at a time indeed by no means favour¬
able to literature, when the accession of a new family
to the throne filled the nation with anxiety, discord,
and confusion ; and either the turbulence of the times
or the satiety of the readers put a stop to the publica¬
tion, after an experiment of 80 numbers, which were
afterwards collected into an eighth volume, perhaps
more valuable than any of those that went before it:
Addison produced more than a fourth part.
In 1715, he began the Freeholder, a political pa¬
per, which was much admired, and proved of great
use at that juncture. He published also, about this
time, verses to Sir Godfrey Kneller upon the king’s
picture, and some to the princess of Wales with the
tragedy of Cato.
Before the arrival of King George he was made se¬
cretary to the regency, and was required by liis office
to send notice to Hanover that the queen was dead,
and that the throne was vacant. To do this would
not have been difficult to any man but Addison, who
was so overwhelmed with the greatness of the event,
and so distracted by choice of expression, that the lords,
who could not wait for the niceties of criticism, called
Mr Southwell, a clerk in the house, and ordered him
to despatch the message. Southwell readily told what
was necessary, in the common style of business, and
valued himself upon having done what was too hard for
Addison.
In 1716, he married the countess dowager of War¬
wick, whom lie had solicited by a very long and anxi¬
ous courtship. He is said to have first known her by
becoming tutor to her son. The marriage, if uncon¬
tradicted report can be credited, made no addition to
his happiness ; it neither found them nor made them
equal. She always remembered her own rank, and
thought herself entitled to treat with very little cere¬
mony the tutor of her son. It is certain that Addison
has left behind him no encouragement for ambitious
love. The year after, 1717, he rose to his highest
elevation, being made secretary of state ; but is repre¬
sented as having proved unequal to the duties of his
place. In the house of commons he could not speak,
and therefore was useless to the defence of the govern¬
ment. In the office he could not issue an order with¬
out losing his time in quest of fine expressions. At
Isat, finding by experience bis own inability for public
business, he was forced to solicit his dismission, with a
pension of 1500I. a year. Such was the account- of
those who were inclined to detract from his abilities 5
hut by others his relinquishment was attributed to de¬
clining health, and the necessity of recess and quiet.
In his retirement, he applied himself to a religious
Evidences work *, which he had begun long before; part of
'iriltian scarce finished, has been printed in bis works.
li<rm\ De intended also to have given an English paraphrase
of some of David’s psalms. But his ailments increased,
$1 j A D D
and cut short his designs. He had forborne time been
oppressed by an asthmatic disorder, which was now ag¬
gravated by a dropsy, and he prepared to die conform¬
ably to his precepts and professions. He sent, as Pope
relates, a message by the earl of Warwick to Mr Gay,
desiring to see him : Gay, who had not visited him for
some time before, obeyed the summons, and found
himself received with great kindness. The purpose for
which the interview had been solicited was then disco¬
vered: Addison told him, that he had injured him;
but that, if he recovered, he would recompense him.
What the injury was he did not explain, nor did Gay
ever know : but supposed that some preferment design¬
ed for him had by Addison’s intervention been with¬
held.—Another deathbed interview, of a more solemn
nature, is recorded : Lord Warwick was a young man
of very irregular life, and perhaps of loose opinions,
Addison, for whom he did not want respect, had very
diligently endeavoured to reclaim him ; but his argu¬
ments and expostulations had no effect : One experi¬
ment, however, remained to be tried. When he found
his life near its end, he directed the young lord to be
called : and when he desired, with great tenderness, to
hear his kvet injunctions, told him, ic I have sent for
you that you may see how a Christian can die.” What
effect this awful scene had on the earl’s behaviour is
not known : he died himself in a short time. Having
given directions to Mr Tickell for the publication of
his works, and dedicated them on his deathbed to his
friend Mr Craggs, he died June 17. 1719, at Holland-
house, leaving only one child, a daughter, by his mar¬
riage.
Addison’s course of life before his marriage has been
detailed by Pope. He had in the house with him
Budgeli, and perhaps Philips. His chief companions
were Steele, Bugdell, Philips, Carey, Davenant, and
Colonel Brett. With one or other of these he always .
breakfasted. He studied all morning; then dined at
a tavern, and went afterwards to Button’s. From the
coffeehouse he went again to the tavern, where he often
sat late and drank too much wine.
Dr Johnson, in delineating the character of Addi¬
son, observes with Tickell, that he employed wit on .
the side of virtue and religion. He not only made the
proper use of wit himself, but taught it to others ;
and from his time it has been generally subservient to
the cause of reason and truth. He has dissipated the
prejudice that had long connected gaiety with vice, „
and easiness of manners with laxity of principles. He .
has restored virtue to its dignity, and taught innocence
not to be ashamed. This is an elevation of literary
character, “ above all Greek, above all Roman fame,”
No greater felicity can genius attain than that of ha¬
ving purified intellectual pleasure, separated mirth from
indecency, and wit from licentiousness; of having
taught a succession of writers to bring elegance and
gaiety to the aid of goodness; and, to use expressions
yet more awful, of having “ turned many to righte¬
ousness.” As a describe!’ of life and manners, he
must be allowed to stand perhaps the first of the first
rank. His humour, which as Steele observes, is pe¬
culiar to himself, is so happily diffused as to give the
grace of novelty to domestic scenes and daily occur¬
rences. He never “ outsteps the modesty of nature,”
nor raises merriment or wonder by the violation ot
truth.
Audisci*.
y—-=
ADD [ 182 ] ADD
Addison, trutl). His figures neither divert hy distortion, nor
amaze by aggravation. He copies life with so much
fidelity, that he can hardly be said to invent j yet his
exhibitions have an air so much original, that it is dif¬
ficult to suppose them not merely the product of imagi¬
nation. As a teacher of wisdom he may be confidehtly
followed. His religion has nothing in it enthusiastic or
superstitious *, he appears neither rveakly credulous nor
wantonly sceptical ; his morality is neither dangerously
lax nor impracticably rigid. All the enchantment of
fancy and all the cogency of argument are employed to
recommend to the reader his real interest, the care of
pleasing the Author of his being. Truth is shown
sometimes as the phantom of a vision, sometimes ap¬
pears half-veiled in an allegory j sometimes attracts re¬
gard in the robes of fancy, and sometimes steps forth in
the confidence of reason. She wears a thousand dresses,
and in all is pleasing.
The doctor, however, has related the following anec¬
dote, which every admirer of Addison, every man of
feeling, must be reluctant to believe. “ Steele (says
the doctor), whose imprudence of generosity, or vanity
of profusion, kept him always incurably necessitous, up¬
on some pressing exigence, in an evil hour, borrowed'
a hundred pounds of his friend, probably without much
purpose of repayment j but Addison, who seems to
have had other notions of a hundred pounds, grew im¬
patient of delay, and reclaimed his loan by an execu¬
tion. Steele felt, with great sensibility, the obduracy
of his creditor ; but with emotions of sorrow rather
than of anger.” It is much to be wished, says Dr Kip-
pis, that Dr Johnson had produced his authority for
this narration. It is very possible, that it may be only
a story the doctor had somewhere heard in conversation,
and which is entirely groundless : “ and this I am the
rather inclined to believe, as I have been assured, by
one of the most respectable characters in the king¬
dom, that the fact hath no foundation in truth.” Mr
Potter, in a late publication, hath informed us, that he
is told by the best authority that the story is an abso¬
lute falsehood.
Mr Tyers, in “ A historical Essay on Mr Addi¬
son,” printed, but not published, has mentioned some
facts concerning him, with which we were not before
acquainted. These are, That he was laid out for dead
as soon as he was born : that, when he addressed his
verses on the English poets to Henry Sacheverell, he
courted that gentleman’s sister ; that, whenever Ja¬
cob Tonson came to him for the Spectator, Bayle’s
trench Historical and Critical Dictionary lay always
open before him : that, upon his return to England,
after his travels, he discharged some old de1)ts he had
contracted at Oxford, with the generosity of good
interest: that he was put into plentiful circumstances
by the death of a brother in the East Indies : that,
having received encouragement from a married lady,
of whom he had been formerly enamoured, he had the
integrity to resist the temptation : that he refused a
gratification of a three hundred pounds bank-note,
and afterwards of a diamond-ring of the same value,
fi'om a Major Dunbar, whom he had endeavoured to
serve in Ireland by his interest with Lord Sunderland :
and that his daughter by Lady Warwick died a few
years ago unmarried, residing at Bilton near Kughy, and
possessing an income of more than twelve hundred a- Atlafsa*
year. ||
The following letter, which probably relates to the Addition,
case of Major Dunbar, reflects great honour on Mr^*^^”
Addison’s integrity. “ June 26. 1715,—Sm, I find
thefe is a very strong opposition formed against you j
but I shall wait on my lord lieutenant this morning,
and lay your case before him as advantageously as I
can, if he is not engaged in other company. I am
afraid what you say of his grace does not portend you
any good. And now, Sir, believe me, when I assure
you I never did, nor ever will, on any pretence what¬
soever, take more than the stated and customary fees
of my office. I might keep the contrary practice
concealed from the world, were I capable of it, but I
could not from myself; and I hope I shall always fear
the reproaches of my own heart more than those of all
mankind. In the mean time, if I can serve a gentle¬
man of merit, and such a character as you bear in the
world, the satisfaction I meet with on such an occa¬
sion is always a sufficient, and the only reward to, Sir,
your most obedient, humble servant, j. Addison.”—
The anecdote which follows rvas told by the late Dr
Birch. Addison and Mr Temple Stanyan wrere very
intimate. In the familiar conversations which passed
between them, they were accustomed freely to dispute
each other’s opinions. Upon some occasion, Mr Addi¬
son lent Stanyan five hundred pounds. After this, Mr
Stanyan behaved with a timid reserve, deference, and
respect; not conversing with the same freedom as for¬
merly, or canvassing his friend’s sentiments. This gave
great uneasiness to Mr Addison. One day they hap¬
pened to fall upon a subject, on which Mr Stanyan had
always been used strenuously to oppose his opinion.
But, even upon this occasion, he gave way to what his
friend advanced, without interposing his own view of
the matter. This hurt Mr Addison so much, that he
said to Mr Stanyan, “ Either contradict me, or pay me
the money.”
In Tickell’s edition of Mr Addison?s works there
are several pieces hitherto unmentioned, viz. The Dis¬
sertation on Medals ; which, though not published till
after his death, yet he had collected the materials, and
began to put them in order, at Vienna, in 1702. A
pamphlet, entitled, The present State of the War,
and the Necessity of an Augmentation, considered.
The late Trial and Conviction of Count Tariff. The
Whig Examiner came out on the 14th of September
1716; there were five of these papers attributed to
Mr Addison, and they are the severest pieces he ever
wrote. He is said also to have been the author of a
performance entitled Dissertutio de insignioribus Roma-
norum Poet is, and of a Discourse on Ancient and Mo¬
dern Learning.
ADDITAMENT, something added to another.
Thus physicians call the ingredients added to a medi¬
cine already compounded, additaments.
ADDITION, is the joining together or uniting
two or more things, or augmenting a thing by the ac¬
cession of others thereto.
Addition, in Arithmetic, Algebra, &c. See these
articles.
Addition, in Music, a dot marked on the right side
of a note, signifying that it is to be founded or length¬
ened
\
A D E [ i
Addition ene^ as rauc,n more as it would have been without
[| such mark.
A^e*- ' Addition, in Law, is that name or title which is
^ given to a man over and above his proper name and
surname, to show of what estate, degree, or mystery he
is 5 and of what town, village, or country.
Additions of Estate, or Quality, are, Yeoman,
Gentleman, Esquire, and such like.
Additions of Degree, are those we call names of
dignity ; as Knight, Lord, Earl, Marquis, and Duke.
Additions of Mystery, are such as Scrivener, Paint¬
er, Mason, and the like.
Additions of Place, are, of Thorp, of Dale, of
"Woodstock.—Where a man hath household in two
places, he shall be said to dwell in both ; so that his
addition in either may suffice. Knave was anciently a
regular addition. By stat. I. Hen. V. cap. 5. it was
ordained, that in such suits or actions where process of
outlawry lies, such addition should be made to the
name of the defendant, to show his state, mystery,
and place where he dwells 5 and that the writs not hav¬
ing such additions should abate if the defendant take
exception thereto ; but not by the office of the court.
The reason of this ordinance was, that one man might
not be troubled by the outlawry of another; but by
reason of the certain addition, every person might bear
his own burden.
Additions, in distilling, a name given to such
things as are added to the wash, or liquor, while in a
state of fermentation, in order to improve the vinosity
of the spirit, procure a larger quantity of it, or give it
a particular flavour. All things, of whatever kind,
thus added in the time of fermentation, are called by
those of the business who speak most intelligently addi¬
tions ; but many confound them with things of a very
different nature, under the name of ferments. See
Distilling.
Additions, in Heraldry, some things added to a
coat-of-arms, as marks of honour; and therefore di¬
rectly opposite to abatements. Among additions we
reckon Bordure, Quarter, Canton, Gykon, Pile,
&c. See these articles.
ADDRESS, in a general sense, is used for skill and
good management, and of late has been adopted from
the trench, it is used also in commerce, as synony¬
mous with direction to a person or place. The word
is formed of the French verb, addresser, IFo direct any
thing to a ‘person.
ADDUCENT muscles, or Adductors, in Ana-
tomy, those muscles which pull one part of the body to¬
wards another. See Anatomy, Table of the Muscles.
t ADEB, in Commerce, the name of a large Egyp¬
tian weight, used principally for rice, and consisting of
210 okes, each of three rotolos, a weight of about two
drams less than an English pound. But this is no cer¬
tain weight ; for at Rosetto the adeb is only ijo okes.
ADEL, a kingdom on the eastern coast of Africa,
Which reaches as far as the straits of Babelmandel,
Which unite the Red sea to the sea of Arabia. This
country produces corn, and feeds a great number of
cattle. The inhabitants carry on a trade in gold, sil¬
ver, ivory, oil, frankincense, a sort of pepper, and other
merchandises of Arabia and the Indies. The king was
formerly a vassal to the grand negus of Abyssinia: but
being Mahometans, and the Abyssinians a sort of Chri-
83 ] A D E
stians, they could not agree; and in 1535 came to an Adel
open rupture, when the Adelians threw off the yoke, 1!
seeking protection from the Grand Signior. The prin- Atlerno.
cipal places are, Adela, seated in the centre of the
country, and the town where the king resides. It rains
very seldom in this country.
ADELIA. See Botany Index.
ADELME, or Aldhelm, son to Kenred, nephew
to Ina king of the West Saxons, after having been
educated abroad, was abbot of Malmsbury 30 years.
He was the first Englishman who wrote in Latin, the
first who brought poetry into England, and the first
bishop of Sherburn. He lived in great esteem till his
death, which happened in 709. He was canonized,
and many miracles were ascribed to him. He is men¬
tioned with great honour by Camden and Bayle, and
his life was written by William of Malmsbury.
ADELPHIANI, in church history, a sect of an¬
cient heretics, who fasted always on Sundays.
ADELSCALC, in ancient customs, denotes a ser¬
vant of the king. The word is also written adelscalche,
and adelscalus. It is conjpounded of the German adel,
or edel, “ noble,” and scale, “ servant.” Among the
Bavarians, adelscalcs appear to have been the same with
royal thanes among the Saxons, and those called mini-
stri regis in ancient charters.
ADELUNG, J. C. a celebrated German gramma¬
rian. See Supplement.
ADEMPTION, in the Civil Law, implies the re¬
vocation of a grant, donation, or the like.
ADEN, formerly a rich and considerable toivn of
Arabia the Happy. It is seated by the sea side, a little
eastward of the straits of Babelmandel. N. Lat. 12. 40*
E. Long. 46. 13.
ADENANTHERA, Bastard Elower-fence.
See Botany Index.
ADENBURG, or Aldenburg, a town of West¬
phalia, and in the duchy of Berg, subject to the Elec¬
tor Palatine. It is 12 miles north-east of Cologne, and
17 west of Bonn. E. Long. 7. 25. N. Lat. 51. 2.
ADENIA. See Botany Index.
ADENOGRAPHY, that part of anatomy which
treats of the glandular parts. See Anatomy.
ADENOIDES, glandulous, or of a glandular form ;
an epithet applied to the prostate.
ADENOLOGY, the same with Adenography.
ADENOS, a kind of cotton ; otherwise called wo-
rine cotton. It comes from Aleppo by the way of Mar¬
seilles, where it pays 20 per cent. duty.
ADEONA, in mythology, the name of a goddess
invoked by the Romans when they set out upon a jour¬
ney.
ADEPHAGIA, in mythology, the goddess of glut¬
tony, to whom the Sicilians paid religious worship.
ADEPS, in Anatomy, the fat found in the abdomen.
It also signifies animal fat of any kind.
ADEPTS, a term among alchemists for those who
pretended to have found the panacea and philosophers
stone. “ Such is the nature, says Paracelsus, of this
higher philosophy, that one mortal can no more com¬
municate it to another, than the paper on which letters
are traced can of itself declare their meaning. It ori¬
ginates not from man, but from heaven.”
ADERBIJAN. See Adirbeitsan.
ADERNO, a small place in the Val di Demona in
the
Aderno
!!
Adlioa.
A D H
the kingdom of Sicily. E. Long. 15.
[
25. N. Lat. 38. 5.
Anciently Adranum, at the foot of Mount Gibel.
The ruined walls of this ancieut city still exhibit an air
of its former grandeur.
ADES, or IIades, denotes the invisible state. In
the heathen mythology, it comprehends all those re¬
gions that lie beyond the river Styx, viz. Erebus, Tar¬
tarus, and Elysium. See Hell.
AUESSENARIANS, Adessenarii, in church
history, a sect of Christians who hold the real presence
of Christ’s body in the eucharist, though not by way
of transubstantiation. They difler considerably as to this
presence j some holding that the body of Christ is in
the bread ; others, that it is about the bread ; and o-
thers that it is under the bread.
ADFILIATION, a Gothic custom, whereby the
children of a former marriage are put upon the same
footing with those of the second. This is aiso called
unio prolium, and still retained in some parts of Germa¬
ny, though Heineccius observes that this is not adop¬
tion.
AD FINES, (Antonine), a town of Swisserland, sup¬
posed to be the modern P/m, in the north of the dis¬
trict of Turgow, on the rivulet Thur, not far from
the borders:of Suabia, about half way between Con¬
stance and Frauenfield. So called, because when Ce-
cinna, general of the emperor Vitellius, with the auxi¬
liary Rhetians, defeated the Helvetii, the former ex¬
tended their borders thus far, their territory ending
here j and in the time of the Romans, it was the last
town in this quarter, and of some repute.
ADHA, a festival which the Mahometans celebrate
on the 10th day of the month Dhoulhegiat, which is
the 12th and last of their year. This month being par¬
ticularly destined for the ceremonies which the pilgrims
observe at Mecca, it takes its name from thence, for
the word signifies the month of Pilgrimage. On that
day they sacrifice with great solemnity, at Mecca, and
nowhere else, a sheep, which is called by the same
name as the festival itself. The Turks commonly call
the festival the Great Bairam, to distinguish it from
the lesser, which ends their fast, and which the Christi¬
ans of the Levant call the Easter of the Turks. The
Mahometans celebrate this festival, out of the city ol
Mecca, in a neighbouring valley ; and sometimes they
sacrifice there a camel. See Bairam.
ADHATODA, in Botany. See Justicia, Bota¬
ny Index.
Action of ADHERENCE, in Scots Law; an ac¬
tion competent to a husband or wife, to compel either
party to adhere, in case of desertion.
ADHESION, in a general sense, implies the stick¬
ing or adhering of bodies together.
Adhesion, in Philosophy. See Cohesion in this
work, and Adhesion in the Supplement.
Adhesion, in Anatomy, a term for one part sticking
to another, which in a natural state are separate. For
the most part, if any of those parts in the thorax or
belly lie in contact, and inflame, they grow together.
ADHIL, in Astronomy, a star of the sixth magni¬
tude, upon the garment of Andromeda, under the last
star in her foot.
ADHOA, in ancient customs, denotes what we
otherwise call relief. In which sense we sometimes also
3
184 ] ADI
find the word written adoha, adhoamentwn, and adho-
gamentum. [|
ADIANTUM, Maiden-hair j in Botany. See Ada.
Botany Index. ' ~~
AD IAPH GRISTS, in church history, a name im¬
porting lukewarmness, given, in the 16th century, to
the moderate Lutherans, who embraced the opinion
of Melancthon, whose disposition was much more paci¬
fic than that of Luther.
ADJAZZO, Adrazzo, or Ajaccio, in Gcogrc-
phy, a handsome town and castle of Corsica in the Me¬
diterranean, with a bishop’s see, and a good harbour.
It is populous and fertile in wine. It is 27 miles south¬
west of Corte. E. Long. 41. 54. N. Lat. 38. 5.
ADJECTIVE, in Grammar, a kind of noun joined
with a substantive, either expressed or implied, to de¬
note its qualities or incidents. See Grammar.
ADIGE, a river in Italy, which taking its rise south
of the lake Glace among the Alps, runs south by Trent,
then east by Verona in the territory of Venice, and
falls into the gulf of Venice, north of the mouth of
the Po.
ADJOURNMENT, the putting off a court or
other meeting, till another day. There is a dift’erence
between the adjournment and the prorogation of the
parliament j the former not only being for a shorter
time, hut also done by the house itself j whereas the
latter is an act of royal authority.
ADIPOCIRE, derived from adeps, fat, and ccra,
wax, denotes a substance which has been lately exami¬
ned by chemists. It is formed by a certain change
which the soft parts of animal bodies undergo, when
kept for some time in running water, or when a great
number of dead bodies are heaped together in the same
place. Great quantities of this substance were found
on removing the animal matters from the burial ground
of the Innocens at Paris in the year 1787. In this bu¬
rial ground, 1200 or 1500 bodies were thrown toge¬
ther into the same pit, and being decomposed, were con¬
verted into this substance. It has some of the proper¬
ties of wax or spermaceti. See Chemistry Index.
ADIPOSE, a term used by anatomists for any cell,
membrane, &c. that is remarkable for its fatness.
ADIRBEITSAN, in Geography, a province of Per¬
sia, in Asia, and part of the ancient Media. It is bound¬
ed on the north by the province of Schirvan, on the
south by Irac-Agemi and Curdistan, on the east by Ghi-
lan and the Caspian sea, and on the west by Turcoma-
nia. E. Long. 420. to 48°. N. Lat. 36°. to 390.
ADIT, in a general sense, the passage to, or entrance
of, any thing.
Adit of a Mine, the hole, or aperture, whereby it
is entered and dug, and by which the water and ores
are carried away. The term amounts to the same with
cuniculus or drift, and is distinguished from air shaft.
The adit is usually made on the side of a hill, towards
the bottom thereof, about four, five, or six feet high,
and eight wide, in form of an arch; sometimes cut in
the rock, and sometimes supported with timber, so con¬
ducted as that the sole or bottom of the adit may an¬
swer to the bottom of the shaft, only somewhat lower,
that the water may have a sufficient current to pass
away without the use of the pump. Damps and the
impurity of the air are the great impediments against
driving
A D J [ 185 ] ADM
Adit driving adits above 20 or 30 fathoms, by reason of the
|| necessity, in this case, of letting down air-shafts from
ijutant, f.|)e day to meet the adit, which are often very expen-
’"’v sive, both on account of the great depth of mines, and
the hardness of the mineral strata to be cut through.
The best remedy against this is that practised in the
coal mines near Liege, where they work their adits
without air-shafts ; the manner of which is described by
Sir James Moray. {Phil. Trans, vol. i. p. 79.).
Adit of a Mine is sometimes used for the air-shaft
itself, being a hole driven perpendicularly from the sur¬
face of the earth into some part of the mine, to give en¬
trance to the air. To draw off the standing water in
winter,' in deep mines, they drive up an adit, or air-
shaft, upon which the air disengages itself from the
water, when it begins to run with such violence as pro¬
duces a noise equal to the bursting of a cannon, dashes
every thing in the way against the sides of the mine,
and loosens the very rocks at a distance. {Ibid').
ADJUDICATION, implies the act of adjudging,
or determining, a cause in favour of some person.
Adjudication, in Scots Law, the name of that ac¬
tion by which a creditor attaches the heritable estate
of his debtor, or his debtor’s heir, in order to appro¬
priate it to himself, either in payment or security of his
debt; or that action by which the holder of an herit¬
able right, labouring under any defect in point of form,
may supply that defect.
ADJUNCT, among philosophers, signifies some¬
thing added to another, without being any necessary
part of it. Thus water absorbed by cloth or a sponge,
is an adjunct, but no necessary part of either of these
substances.
Adjunct, in Metaphysics, some quality belonging to
either the body or mind, whether natural or acquired.
Thus thinking is an adjunct of the mind, and growth
an adjunct of the body.
Adjunqt, in Music, a word which is employed to
denominate the connexion or relation between the prin¬
cipal mode and the modes of its two-fifths, which, from
the intervals that constitute the relation between them
and it, are called its adjuncts.
Adjunct is also used to signify a colleague, or some
person associated with another as an assistant.
Adjunct Gods, or Adjuncts of the Gods, among
the Homans, were a kind of inferior deities, added as
assistants to the principal ones, to ease them in their
functions. Thus, to Mars was adjoined liellona and
Nemesis; to Neptune, Salacia; to Vulcan, the Cabiri;
to the Good Genius, the Lares; to the Evil, the Le-
mures, &c.
Adjuncts, in Rhetoric and Grammar, signify cer¬
tain words or things added to others, to amplify or
augment the force of the discourse.
Adjuncts, or Adjoints, in the Royal Academy
of Sciences at Paris, denoted a class of members, at¬
tached to the pursuit of particular sciences. The class
of Adjuncts was created in 1716, in lieu of the Eleves :
they were twelve in number; two for geometry, two
for mechanics, two for astronomy, two for anatomy,
two for chemistry, and two for botany. The Eleves
not taken into this establi»hment were admitted on the
footing of supernumerary Adjuncts.
ADJUTANT, in the military art, is an officer
whose business it is to assist the major. Each battalion
yojl. I. Part I. - f
of foot and regiment of horse has an adjutant, whb re- Adjutant
ceives the orders every night from the brigade-major : ||
which, after carrying them to the colonel, he delivers ^n,ea'
out to the serjeants. When detachments are to be !sl“ei‘i?-in-
made, he gives the number to be furnished by each
company or troop, and assigns the hour and place of
rendezvous. He also places the guards ; receives and
distributes the ammunition to the companies, &c.; and,
by the major’s orders, regulates the prices of bread,
beer, and other provisions. The word is sometimes
used by the French for an aid-du-camp.
Ad jut A N ts-general, among the Jesuits, a select
number of fathers, who resided with the general of the
order, each of whom had a province or country assign¬
ed him, as England, Holland, &c. and their business
was to inform the father-general of state occurrences
in such countries. To this end they had their corres¬
pondents delegated, emissaries, visitors, regents, pro¬
vincials, &c.
ADJUTORIUM, a term used by physicians for any
medicine in a prescription but the capital one.
ADLE -EGGS, such as have not received an impreg¬
nation from the semen of the cock.
ADLEGATION, in the public law of the German
empire, a right claimed by the states of the empire of
adjoining plenipotentaries, in public treaties and nego¬
tiations, to those of the emperor, for the transacting of
matters which relate to the empire in general. In
which sense adlegation differs from legation, which is '
the right of sending ambassadors on a person’s own ac¬
count.—Several princes and states of the empire enjoy
the right of legation, which have not that of adlegation,
and vice versa. The bishops, for instance, have the
right of adlegation in the treaties which concern the
common interest, but no right of legation for their own
private affairs. The like had the duke of Mantua.—
The emperor allows the princes of Germany the privi¬
lege of legation, but disputes that of adlegation. They
challenge it as belonging to them jure regni, which
they enjoy in common with the emperor himself.
ADLOCUTION, Adlocutio, in Antiquity, is
chiefly understood of speeches made by Roman gene¬
rals to their armies, to encourage them before a battle.
We frequently find those adlocutions expressed on me¬
dals by the abbreviature Adlocut. Coh.—The ge¬
neral is sometimes represented as seated on a tribunal,
often on a bank or mound of turf, with the cohorts
ranged orderly round him, in manipuli and turmce.
The usual formula in adlocutions was, Fortis esset ac
fidus.
ADMANUENSES, in ancient law books, denote
persons who swore by laying their hands on the book.
—In which sense, admanuenses amount to the same
with laymen ; and stand opposed to clerks, who were
forbid to swear on the book, their word being reputed
as their oath ; whence they were also- denominated
fide digni.
ADMEASUREMENT, Admensuratio, in Law,
a writ which lies for the bringing those to reason, or
mediocrity, who usurp more of any thing than their
share. This writ lies in two cases ; termed,
Admeasurement of Dower, Admensuratio dotis,
where the widow of the deceased holds more from the
heir, or his guardian, on account of her dower, than of
right belongs to her. And,
A a
Admeasurement
ADM [ 186 ] ADM
Admeasurement of Pasture, Admensuratio pasturce ;
this lies between those who have common of pastures
appendant to their freehold, or common by vicinage, in
case any of them surcharge the common with more
cattle than they ought.
ADMINICLE, a term used chiefly in old lawr-
books, to imply an aid, help, assistance, or support.
The word is Latin, adminiculum; and derived from
adminicular, to prop or support.
Adminicle, in Scots Law, signifies any writing or
deed referred to by a party, in an action of law, for
proving his allegations.
ADMINICULATOR, an ancient officer of the
church, whose business it was to attend to and defend
the cause of the widows, orphans, and others destitute
of help.
ADMINISTRATION, in general, the government,
direction, or management of affairs, and particularly
the exercise of distributive justice. Among ecclesias¬
tics, it is often used to express the giving or dispensing
the sacraments, &c.
Administration, is also the name given by the
Spaniards in Peru to the staple magazine, or warehouse,
established at Callao, a small town on the South sea,
which is the port of Lima, the capital of that part of
South America, and particularly of Peru. The foreign
ships which have leave to trade along that coast are
obliged to unload here, paying 13 per cent, of the price
they sell for, if the cargo be entire, and even 16 per
cent, if otherwise *, besides which, they pay 3 per 1000,
duty, for consulship and some other small royal rights
and claims.
ADMINISTRATOR, in Law, he to whom the
ordinary commits the administration of the goods of a
person deceased, in default of an executor.—An action
lies for or against an administrator, as for or against
an executor j and he shall be accountable to the value
of the goods of the deceased, and no farther :—unless
there be waste, or other abuse chargeable on him. If
the administrator die, his executors are not administra¬
tors ; but the court is to grant a new administration.
—If a stranger, who is neither administrator nor exe¬
cutor, take the goods of the deceased and administer,
he shall be charged and sued as an executor, not as an
administrator. The origin of administrators is derived
from the civil law. Their establishment in England
is owing to a statute made in the 31st year of Ed¬
ward III. Till then, no office of this kind was known
beside that of executor: in case of a want of which,
the ordinary had the disposal of goods of persons intes¬
tate, &c.
Administrator, in Scots Law, a person legally
empowered to act for another whom the law presumes
incapable of acting for himself. Thus tutors or cura¬
tors are sometimes styled administrators in law to pu¬
pils, minors, or fatuous persons. But more generally
the term is used to imply that power which is confer¬
red by the law upon a father over the persons and
property of his children during their minority. See
Law.
Administrator is sometimes used for the presi¬
dent of a province : for a person appointed to receive,
manage, and distribute, the revenues of an hospital or
religious house ; for a prince who enjoys the revenues
of a secularized bishop > and for the regent of a king-
2
dom during the minority of a prince, or a vacancy of AchnitiiJ
the throne. stmtorj
ADMIRABILIS sal, the same with Glauber’s 11
salt. _
ADMIRAL, a great officer or magistrate, who has 'r"
the government of a navy, and the hearing of all mari¬
time causes.
Authors are divided with regard to the origin and
denomination of this important officer, whom we find
established in most kingdoms that border on the sea.
But the most probable opinion is that of Sir Henry
Spelman, who thinks, that both the name and dignity
were derived from the Saracens, and, by reason of the
holy wars, brought amongst us j for admiral, in the
Arabian language, signifies a prince, or chief ruler,
and was the ordinary title of the governors of cities,
provinces, &c. and therefore they called the com¬
mander of the navy by that name, as a name of dignity
and honour. And indeed there are no instances of
admirals in this part of Europe before the year 1284,
when Philip of France, who had attended St Lewis in
the wars against the Saracens, created an admiral. Du
Cange assures us, that the Sicilians were the first, and
the Genoese the next, who gave the denomination of
admiral to the commanders of their naval armaments ;
and that they took it from the Saracen or Arabic emir,
a general name for every commanding officer. As for
the exact time when the word was introduced among
us, it is uncertain *, some think it was in the reign of
Edward I. Sir Henry Spelman is of opinion that it
was first used in the reign of Henry III. because nei¬
ther the laws of Oleron, made in 1266, nor Bracton,
who wrote about that time, make any mention of it $
and that the term admiral was not used in a charter in
the eighth of Henry III. where he granted this office
to Richard de Lacy, by these words Maritimam An-
glice ; but in the 56th year of the same reign, not only
the historians, but the charters themselves, very fre¬
quently used the word admiral.
Anciently there were generally three or four admi¬
rals appointed in the English seas, all of them holding
the office durante beneplaceto; and each of them having
particular limits under their charge and government y
as admirals of the fleet of ships, from the mouth of the
Thames, northward, southward, or westward. Besides
these, there were admirals of the Cinque Ports, as in the
reign of Edward III. when one William Latimer was
styled admiralis quinque portuum: and we sometimes
find that one person has been admiral of the fleets to
the southward, northward, and westward : but the title
of admiralis Anglice was not frequent till the reign of
Henry IV. when the king’s brother had that title given
him, which in all commissions afterwards was granted
to the succeeding admirals. It may be observed, that
there was a title above that of admiral of England,
which was, locum tenens regis super mare, the king’s
lieutenant general of the sea \ this title we find men¬
tioned in the reign of Richard II. Before the use of
the word admiral was known, the title of custos maris
was made use of. See Admiral, Supplement.
Lord High Admiral of England, in some ancient re¬
cords called capitanus mantimarum, an officer ol great
antiquity and trust, as appears by the laws of Oleron, so
denominated from the place at which they were made by
Richard I. The first title of admiral of England, ex¬
pressly
ABM [ 187 ] ADM
pressly conferred upon a subject, was given by patent of
Richard II. to Richard Fitz-Allen, jun. earl of Arun¬
del and Surrey j for those who before enjoyed this of¬
fice were simply termed admirals, though their ju¬
risdiction seems as extensive, especially in the reign of
Edward III. when the court of admiralty was first
erected.
This great officer has the management of all mari¬
time affairs, and the government of the royal navy,
with power of decision in all maritime causes both civil
and criminal: he judges of all things done upon or be¬
yond the sea, in any part of the world ; upon the sea
coasts, in all ports and havens, and upon all rivers be¬
low the first bridge from the sea. By him, vice-admi¬
rals, rear-admirals, and all sea captains, are commis¬
sioned : all deputies for particular coasts, and coroners
to view dead bodies found on the sea coasts, or at sea:
he also appoints the judges for his court of admiralty,
and may imprison, release, &c. All ports and havens
are infra corpus comitatus, and the admiral hath no ju¬
risdiction of any thing done in them. Between high
and low water mark, the common law and the high
admiral have jurisdiction by turns, one upon the water,
and the other upon the land.
The lord admiral has power, not only over the sea¬
men serving in his ships of war, but over all other sea¬
men, to arrest them for the service of the state 5 and
if any of them run away, without leave of the admiral,
he hath power to make a record thereof, and certify
the same to the sheriffs, mayors, bailiffs, &c. who shall
cause them to be apprehended and imprisoned.
To the lord high admiral belong all penalties and
amercements of all transgressions at sea, on the sea shore,
in ports and havens, and all rivers below the first bridge
from the sea ; the goods of pirates and felons condemn¬
ed or enslaved, sea wrecks, goods floating on the sea,
or cast on the shore (not granted to lords of manors
adjoining to the sea), and a share of lawful prizes 5 also
all great fishes, commonly called roi/al fishes, except
whales and sturgeons : to which add, a salary of 70O0I.
a-year.
In short, this is so great an office, in point of trust,
honour, and profit, that it has been usually given to
princes of the blood, or the most eminent persons among
the nobility. We have had no high admiral for some
years j the office being put in commission, or under the
administration of the lords commissioners of the admi¬
ralty, who by statute have the same power and autho¬
rity as the lord high admii’al.
Lord High Admiral of Scotland, one of the great
officers of the crown, and supreme judge in all mari¬
time cases within that part of Britain. See Law.
Admiral also implies the commander in chief of
any single fleet or squadron ; or, in general, any flag-
officer whatever. The commander of a fleet carries
his flag at the main-top-mast head. Thus we say, ad¬
miral of the red, of the white, of the blue.
Vice-AuMlRAL, is the commander of the second squa¬
dron, and carries his flag at the fore-top-mast head.
Rear-ADMIRAL, is the commander of the third squa¬
dron, and carries his flag at the mizen-top-mast head.
Vice-ADMIRAL, is also an officer appointed by the
lords commissioners of the admiralty. There are seve¬
ral of these officers established in different parts of
Great Britain, with judges and marshals under them-,
for executing jurisdiction within their respective limits^ Admiral,
Their decrees, however, are not final, an appeal lying Admiralty,
to the court of admiralty in London.
Admiral is also an appellation given to the most
considerable ship of a fleet of merchantmen, or of the
vessels employed in the cod fishery of Newfoundland.
This last has the privilege of choosing what place he
pleases on the shore to dry his fish 5 gives proper orders,
and appoints the fishing places to those who come after
him ; and as long as the fishing season continues, he
carries a flag on his main mast.
Admiral, in Conchology, the English name of a
species of the voluta, a shell-fish belonging to the order
of vermes testacea. See Conchology Index.
ADMIRALTY properly signifies the office of lord
high admiral, whether discharged by one single per¬
son, or by joint commissioners called lords of the admi¬
ralty.
Court of Admiralty, is a sovereign court, held by
the lord high admiral, or lords of the admiralty, where
cognizance is taken in all maritime affairs, whether ci¬
vil or criminal.—All crimes committed on the high
seas, or on great rivers below the first bridge next the
sea, are cognizable in this court only, and before which
they must be tried by judge and jury. But in civil
cases the mode is different, the decisions being all made
according to the civil law. From the sentences of the
admiralty judge an appeal always lay, in ordinary-
course, to the king in chancery, as may be collected
from statute 25 Hen. VIII. c. 19. which directs the
appeal from the archbishop’s courts to be determined
by persons named in the king’s commission, “ like as in
case of appeal from the admiral court.” And by statute
8 Eliz. c. 5. it is enacted, that upon an appeal made to
the chancery, the sentence definitive of the delegates
appointed by commission shall be final.
Appeals from the vice-admiralty courts in Ameri¬
ca, and our other plantations and settlements, may be
brought before the courts of admiralty in England, as
being a branch of the admiral’s jurisdiction, though
they may also be brought before the king in council.
But in case of prize vessels, taken in time of war, in
any part of the world, and condemned in any courts of
admiralty, the appeal lies to certain commissioner's of
appeals consisting chiefly of the privy council. And
this by virtue of divers treaties with foreign nations,
by which particular courts are established in all the
maritime countries of Europe for the decision of this
question, Whether lawful prize or not ? for this being
a question between subjects of different states, it be¬
longs entirely to the law of nations, and not to the
municipal laws of either country. See a more full ac¬
count of the various courts of admiralty, and of their
powers and practices, under the article Admiralty
in the Supplement.
Court of Admiralty, in Scotland. See Law.
Admiralty Bay, in Geography, a spacious bay with
good anchorage on the wrest coast of Cook’s straits, in
the southern island of New Zealand. S. Lat. 40. 37.
E. Long. 174- 54-
There is a bay of the same name on the north¬
west coast of America, in N. Lat. 59. 31. W. Long.
140. 18.
Admiralty Inlet, the entrance to the supposed straits
of Juan de Fuca, on the wrest coast of New Georgia,
A a 2 in
ADO [ 188 ] ADO
Admiralty in N. Lat~ 48. 30. W. Long. 124. 15. It was visited
|| by Captain Vancouver in 1792, who found the soil on
Adoles tjie shores rich and fertile, well watered, and clothed
. ce^ce' . with luxuriant vegetation.
Admiralty Islands, lie in about 2° 18' S. Lat. and
146° 44' E. Long. There are between 20 and 30
islands said to be scattered about here, one of which
alone would make a large kingdom. Captain Carteret,
who first discovered them, was prevented from touching
at them, although their appearance was very inviting,
on account of the condition of his ship, and of his being
entirely unprovided with the articles of barter which
suit an Indian trade. He describes them as clothed
with a beautiful verdure of woods, lofty and luxuriant,
interspersed with spots that have been cleared for plan¬
tations, groves of cocoa nut trees, and houses of the na¬
tives, who seem to be very numerous. The largest of
these islands is 18 leagues long in the direction of east
and west. The discoverer thinks it highly probable
that these islands produce several valuable articles of
trade, particularly spices, as they lie in the same climate
and latitude as the Moluccas.
ADMIRATION, in ethics, is that passion of the
mind which is excited by the contemplation of superior
and rare excellence, as superior or uncommon wisdom,
ingenuity, or benevolence.
ADMONITION, in ecclesiastical affairs, a part
of discipline much used in the ancient church. It was
the first act, or step, towards the punishment or expul¬
sion of delinquents. In cases of private offences, it was
performed, according to the evangelical rule, private¬
ly : Jn case of public oft’ence, openly, before the church.
If either of those sufficed for the recovery of the fallen
person, all further proceedings in the way of censure
ceased : if they did not, recourse wras had to excommu¬
nication.
Admonitio Fustium, a military punishment among
the Romans, not unlike our whipping, but it was per¬
formed with vine branches.
ADMORTIZATION, in the feudal customs, the
reduction of the property of lands or tenements to
mortmain. See Mortmain.
ADNATA, in Anatomy, one of the Coats of the eye,
which is also called conjunctiva and albuginea.
Adnata is also used for any hair, wool, or the like,
which grows upon animals or vegetables.
Adnata, or Adnascentia, among gardeners, denote
those offsets, which by a new germination under the
earth, proceed from the lily, narcissus, hyacinth, and
other Howers, and afterwards become true x’oots.
ADNOUN, is used by some grammarians to express
what we more usually call an adjective.—The word is
formed by way of analogy to adverb; in regard adjectives
have much the same office and relation to nouns that
adverbs have to verbs. Bishop Wilkins uses the word
adname in another sense, viz. for what we otherwise
call a preposition. , 1
ADOLESCENCE, the state of growing youth ;
or that period of a person’s age, commencing from his
infancy, and terminating at bis full stature or manhood.
The word is formed of the Latin adolescere ; “ to
grow.”—’-The state of adolescence lasts so long as the
fibres continue to grow, either in magnitude or firm¬
ness. The fibres being arrived at the degree of firm-
aess and tension sufficient to sustain the parts, no longer
yield or give way to the efforts of the nutritious mat- ^dok
ter to extend them ; so that their farther accretion is cence
stopped, from the very law of their nutrition. Ado- II
lescence is commonly computed to be between 15 and A^01118-
25, or even 30 years of age ; though in different con- ’r~^
stitutions its terms are very difl’erent.—The Romans
usually reckoned it from 12 to 25 in boys: and to 21
in girls, &c. And yet, among their writers, juvenis
and adolcscens are frequently used indifferently for any
person under 45 years.
ADOLLAM, or Odollam, in Ancient Geography,
a town in the tribe of Judah, to the east of Eleuthero-
polis. David is said to have hid himself in a cave neaz
this town, (Bible).
ADOM, in Geography, a state or principality of the
Gold coast, in Africa. It is a populous, rich, and fer*
tile country, abounding with corn and fruits.
ADON, a populous village in the province of Stuhl-
Weissemberg, belonging to Hungary. It lies in a fruit¬
ful country, towards the river Danube. E. Long.
19. 20. N. Lat. 47. 30.
ADONAI, one of the names of the Supreme Being
in the Scriptures. The proper meaning of the word
is my lords, in the plural number; as Adoni is my lord,
in the singular. The Jews, who either out of respect,
or superstition, do not pronounce the name of Jehovah,
read Adonai, in the room of it, as often as they meet
with Jehovah in the Hebrew text. But the ancient
Jews were not so scrupulous ; nor is there any law
which forbids them to pronounce the name of God,
(Calmet.)
ADONIA, in antiquity, solemn feasts in honour of
Venus, and in memory of her beloved Adonis. The
Adonia were observed with great solemnity by, most
nations; Greeks, Phoenicians, Lycians, Syrians, E-
gyptians, &c. From Syria, they are supposed to have
passed into India. The prophet Ezekiel* is understood*^1'™1*
to speak of them. They were still observed at Alex-xlv‘
andria in the time of St Cyril ; and at Antioch in that
of Julian the Apostate, who happened to enter that city
during the solemnity, which was taken for an ill omen.
The Adonia lasted two days : on the first of which cer¬
tain images of Venus and Adonis were carried, with all
the pomp and ceremonies practised at funerals : the
women wept, tore their hair, beat their breasts, &c.
imitating the cries and lamentations of Venus for the
death of her paramour. This lamentation they called
Aliameto-poz. The Syrians were not contented with weep¬
ing, hut subjected themselves to severe discipline, shaved
their heads, &c. Among the Egyptians, the queen her¬
self used to carry the image of Adonis in procession.
St Cyril mentions an extraordinary ceremony practised
by the Alexandrians : A letter was written to the wo¬
men of Byblus, to inform them that Adonis was found
again : this letter was thrown into the sea, which.
(it was pretended) did not fail punctually to convey it
to Byblus in seven days; upon the receipt of which,
the Byblian women ceased their mourning, sung his
praises, and made rejoicings as if he were raised to life
again : Or rather, according to Meursius, the two of¬
fices of mourning and rejoicing made two distinct feasts,
which were held at different times of the year, the one
six months after the other, Adonis being supcosed to
pass half the year with Proserpine, and half with Venus.
-—The Egyptian Adonia are said to have been held ia
memory
ADO [ *89 ] A D O
-Jonia memory of the death of Osiris $ by others of his sick-
|| ness and recovery. Bishop Patrick dates their origin
doptiani. fron! ‘lie slaughter of the first born under Moses.
—y*—' ADQNIDES, m Botany, a name given to botanists
who described or made catalogues of plants cultivated
in any particular place.
ADONIS, son of Cynaras king of Cyprus, the dar¬
ling of the goddess Venus : being killed by a wild boar,
in the Idalian woods, he was turned into a flower of a
blood colour, supposed to be the anemone. Venus was
inconsolable 5 and no grief was ever more celebrated
than this, most nations having perpetuated the memory
Seeirfo- °f it by a train of anniversary ceremonies *. Among
a. Shakespeare’s poems, is a long one on the subject of
Venus’s affection for Adonis.
The text of the vulgate in Ezekiel viii. 14. says,
that this prophet saw women sitting in the temple, and
weeping for Adonis : but according to the reading of
the Hebrew text, they are said to weep for Thammuz,
or the hidden one. Among the Egyptians, Adonis
was adored under the name of Osiris the husband of
Isis. But he was sometimes called by the name of
Ammuz, or Thammuz, the concealed, ta denote pro¬
bably his death or burial. The Hebrews, in derision,
call him sometimes the dead, Psal. cvi. 28. and Lev.
xix. 28. because they wept for him, and represented
him as one dead in his coffin 5 and at other times, they
call him the image of jealousy, Ezek. viii. 3. 3. be¬
cause he was the object of the god Mar’s jealousy.
The Syrians, Phcenicians, and Cyprians, called him
Adonis $ and F. Calmet is of opinion, that the Ammo¬
nites and Moabites gave him the name of Baal-peor.
See Baal-peor.
Adonis, Adonius, in Ancient Geography, a river of
Phoenicia, rising in Mount Lebanon, and falling into
the sea, after a north-west course, at By bins; famous in
fable, as a beautiful shepherd youth (Virgil) ; son of
Cynaras, king of the Cyprians, loved by Venus, slain
by a boar-, and turned into a river. Theocritus laments
him dead in an idyllion, or rather ode, as did the
women yearly, when, in flood time, the river rolled
down a red earth, which tinged its waters, deemed to
be his wound bleeding afresh. In the Phoenician lan¬
guage Adan signifies a willow, and Adon lord, with
the same radical letters. Hence, lictiec Actavi?, Salignus,
and or Aciawf for Kvgios. Adonis horti, are
gardens beautifully arranged, but more adapted for plea¬
sure than profit.
Adonis, Bird's eye, or Pheasant's eye, in Botany.
See Botany Index.
ADONISTS, a sect or party among divines and cri¬
tics, who maintain, that the Hebrew points ordinarily
annexed to the consonants of the word Jehovah, are not
the natural points belonging to that wmrd, nor express
the true pronunciation of it j but are the vowel points,
belonging to the words Adonia and Elohim, applied to
the consonants of the ineffable name Jehovah, to warn
the readers, that instead of the word Jehovah, which
the Jews were forbidden to pronounce, and the true pro¬
nunciation of which had been long unknown to them,
they are always to read Adonai. They are opposed to
lehovists: ,of whom the principal are Drusius, Capellus,
Buxtorf, Alting, and Reland, who has published a col¬
lection of their writings on this subject.
ADQPTIANI, in church history, a sect of ancient
heretics, followers of Felix of Urgel, and Elipand of ^optiaai,
loledo, who, towards the end of the eighth century. Adoption,
advanced the notion, that Jesus Christ, in his hu- ' v ■" f
man nature, is the Son of God, not by nature, but by
adoption.
ADOPTION, an act by which any one takes an¬
other into his family, owns him for his son, and appoints
him for his heir.
J he custom of adoption was very common among
the ancient Greeks and Romans $ yet it was not prac¬
tised, but for certain causes expressed in the laws, and
with certain.formalities usual in such cases. It was a
sort of imitation of nature, intended for the comfort
of those who had no children : wherefore he that was
to adopt was to have no children of his own, and to be
past the age of getting any ; nor were eunuchs allow¬
ed to adopt, as being under an actual impotency of
begetting children 5 neither was it lawful for a young
man to adopt an elder, because that would have been
contrary to the order of nature j nay, it was even re¬
quired that the person who adopted should be eighteen
years older than his adopted son, that there might at
least appear a probability of his being the natural fa¬
ther.
Among the Greeks it was called vtornt, filiation. It
was allowed to such as had no issue of their own j ex¬
cepting those who were not kv^ioi ieivrav, their own ma¬
sters, e. g. slaves, women, madmen, infants, or persons
under twenty years of age ; who being incapable of
making wills, or managing their own estates, were not
allowed to adopt heirs to them. Foreigners being in¬
capable of inheriting at Athens, if any such were
adopted, it was necessary first to make them free of
the city. The ceremony of adoption being over, the
adopted had his name enrolled in the tribe and ward
ol his new father 5 for which entry a peculiar time was
allotted, viz. the festival To prevent rash,
and inconsiderate adoptions, the Lacedemonians had a
law, that adoptions should be transacted, or at least
confirmed, in the presence of their kings. The chil¬
dren adopted w'ere invested with all the privileges, and
obliged to perform all the duties, of natural children ;
and being thus provided for in another family, ceased
to have any claim of inheritance, or kindred, in the
family which they had left, unless they first renounced
their adoption ; which, by the laws of Solon, they
were not allowed to do, unless they had first begotten
children, to bear the name of the person who had
adopted them : thus providing against the ruin of fa¬
milies, which would otherwise have been extinguished
by the desertion of those who had been adopted to
preserve them. If the children adopted happened to
die without children, the inheritance could not be alie¬
nated from the family into which they had been adopt¬
ed, but returned to the relations of the adopter. It
should seem, that by the Athenian law, a person, after
having adopted another, was not allowed to marry with¬
out permission from the magistrate : in effect, there are
instances of persons, who being ill used by their adop¬
tive children, petitioned for such leave. JHowever this
be, it is certain some men married after they had adopt¬
ed sons: in which case, if they begat legitimate chil¬
dren, their estates were equally shared between the be¬
gotten and adopted.
The Romans had two forms of adoption 5 one be¬
fore-
ADO [ iqo ] ADO
Adoption, fore the prtetor; the other at an assembly of the people,
t--—in the times of the commonwealth, and afterwards by
a rescript of the emperor# Xn the former, the natuial
father addressed himself to the prgetor, declaring that
lie emancipated his son, resigned all his authority over
him, and consented he should be translated into the fa¬
mily of the adopter. The latter was practised, where
the party to be adopted was already free ; and this was
called adrogation. The person adopted changed all his
names ; assuming the prename, name, and surname, of
the persons who adopted him.
Besides the formalities prescribed-by the Homan law,
various other methods have taken place; which have
given denominations to different species of adoption,
among the Gothic nations, in different ages. As,
Adoption by arms, was when a prince made a pre¬
sent of arms to a person, in consideration of his merit
and valour. Thus it was that the king of the Heruli
was adopted by Theodoric 5 Athalaric by the emperor
Justinian 5 and Cosroes, nephew of the king ot I’ersia,
by the emperor Justin.—The obligation here laid on
the adoptive son was, to protect and defend the father
from injuries, affronts, &c. And hence, according to
Selden, the ceremony of dubbing knights took its ori¬
gin as well as name.
Adoption by baptism, is that spiritual affinity which
is contracted by god-fathers and god-children in the
ceremony of baptism. This kind of adoption was in¬
troduced into the Greek church, and came afterwards
into use among the ancient Franks, as appears by the
Capitulars of Charlemagne.
In reality, the god-father was so far considered as
adoptive father, that his god-children were supposed
to be entitled to a share in the inheritance of his
estate.
Adoption by hair, was performed by cutting off the
hair of a person, and giving it to the adoptive father.
It was thus that Pope John VIII. adopted Boson king
of Arles } which, perhaps, is the only instance in hi¬
story of adoption, in the order of the ecclesiastics ; a
law that professes to imitate nature, not daring to give
children to those in whom it would be thought a crime
to beget any.
Adoption by matrimony, is the taking the children
of a wife or husband, by a former marriage, into the
condition of proper or natural children ; and admitting
them to inherit on the same footing with those of the
present marriage. This is a practice peculiar to the
Germans : among whom, it is more particularly known
by the name of einkindschaft; among their writers in
Latin, by that of unio prolium, or union of issues. But
the more accurate writers observe, that this is no adop¬
tion. See Adfiliation.
Adoption by testament, that performed by appoint¬
ing a person heir by will, on condition of his assuming
the name, arms, &c. of the adoptei\ Of which kind
we meet with several instances in the Homan history.
Among the Turks, the ceremony of adoption is per¬
formed by obliging the person adopted to pass through
the shirt of the adopter. Hence, among that people,
to adopt, is expressed by the phrase, to draw another
through my shirt. It is said, that something like this
has also been observed among the Hebrews ; where the
prophet Elijah adopted Elisha for his son and successor,
and communicated to him the gift of prophecy, by let¬
ting fall his cloak or mantle on him. But adoption, Adoption
properly so called, does not appear to have been prac- |j
tised among the ancient Jews : Moses says nothing of Adoration,
it in his laws ; and Jacob’s adoption of his two grand- ’“' y1 >
sons, Ephraim and Manasseh, is not so properly an
adoption, as a kind of substitution, whereby those two
sons of Joseph were allotted'an equal portion in Israel
with his own sons.
Adoption is also used, in Theology, for a federal act
of God’s free grace; whereby those who are regene¬
rated by faith, are admitted into his household, and en¬
titled to a share in the. inheritance of the kingdom of
heaven.
Adoption is sometimes also used, in speaking of the
ancient clergy, who had a custom of taking a maid or
widow into their houses, under the denomination of an
adoptive or spiritual sister or niece.
Adoption is also used in speaking of the admission
of persons into certain hospitals, particularly that of
Lyons, the administrators whereof have all the power
and rights of parents over the children admitted.
Adoption is also used for the reception of a new
academy into the body of an old one.—Thus
The French academy of Marseilles was adopted by
that of Paris : on which account, we find a volume of
speeches extant, made by several members of the aca¬
demy of Marseilles, deputed to return thanks to that-of
Paris for the honour.
In a similar sense, adoption is also applied by the
Greeks, to the admitting a monk, or brother, into a
monastic community j sometimes called spiritual adop¬
tion.
ADOPTIVE, denotes a person or thing adopted
by another.
Adoptive children, among the Romans, were on the
same footing with natural ones ; and accordingly were
either to be instituted heirs, or expressly disinherited,
otherwise the testament was null. The emperor Adi'ian
preferred adoptive children to natural ones ; because we
choose the former, but are obliged to take the latter
at random.
M. Menage has published a book of eloges, or verses
addressed to him j which he calls Liber Adoptivus, an
adoptive book and adds it to his other Works.—Hein-
sius, and Furstemburg of Munster, have likewise pu¬
blished adoptive books.
In ecclesiastical writers wre find adoptive women, or
sisters, {adoptivce fcemince or serenes'), used for those
handmaids of the ancient clergy, otherwise called sub-
introductee.
Adoptive arms, are those which a person enjoys by
the gift or concession of another, and to which he was
not otherwise entitled. They stand contradistinguished
from arms of alliance.
We sometimes meet with adoptive heir, by way of
opposition to natural heir $ and adoptive gods, by way
of contradistinction to domestic ones. The Romans,
notwithstanding the number of their domestic, had
their adoptive gods, taken chiefly from the Egyptians :
such were Isis, Osiris, Anubis, Apis, Harpocrates, and
Canopus.
ADORATION, the act of rendering divine ho¬
nours } or of addressing a being, as supposing it a
god. The word is compounded of ad, “ to,” and os,
oris, “ mouth j” and literally signifies to apply the hand
to
ADO [i
dr ration ^1C mouth ; Manum ad os admovere, q. d. “ to kiss
1' y— - the hand this being, in the eastern countries, one of
the great marks of respect and submission.—The Ho¬
mans practised adoration at sacrifices, and other so¬
lemnities ; in passing by temples, altars, groves, &c.
at the sight of statues, images, or the like, whether
of stone or wood, wherein any thing of divinity was
supposed to reside. Usually there were images of the
gods placed at the gates of cities, for those who went
in or out, to pay their respects to.—The ceremony of
adoration among the ancient Romans was thus : The
devotee having his head covered, applied his right hand
to his lips, the fore finger resting on his thumb, which
was erect, and thus bowing his head, turned himself
round from left to right. The kiss thus given was
called osculum labratum; for ordinarily they were afraid
to touch the images of their gods themselves with their
profane lips. Sometimes, however, they would kiss
their feet, or even knees, it being held an incivility to
touch their mouths ; so that the affair passed at some
distance. Saturn, however, and Hercules, Avere adored
with the head bare; whence the worship of the last
was called institutumperegrinum, and ritus Grcccani-
cus, as departing from the customary Roman method,
which was to sacrifice and adore with the face veiled,
and the clothes drawn up to the ears, to prevent any
interruption in the ceremony by the sight of unlucky
objects.—The Jewish manner of adoration was by pro¬
stration, bowing, and kneeling.—The Christians adopt¬
ed the Grecian rather than the Roman method, and a-
dored always uncovered. The ordinary posture of the
ancient Christians was kneeling, but on Sundays stand¬
ing : and they had a peculiar regard to the east, to
which point they ordinarily directed their prayers.
Adoration is more particularly used for the act of
praying or preferring our requests or thanksgivings to
Almighty God.
Adoration is also used for certain extraordinary
civil honours or respects which resemble those paid to
the Deity, yet are given to men.
The Persian manner of adoration, introduced by
Cyrus, was by bending the knee, and falling on the
face at the prince’s feet, striking the earth with the
forehead, and kissing the ground. This ceremony,
which the Greeks called 7r»orKvmv, Conon refused to
perform to Artaxerxes, and Callisthenes to Alexander
the Great, as reputing it impious and unlawful.
The adoration performed to the Roman and Grecian
emperors consisted in bowing or kneeling at the prince’s
feet, laying hold of his purple robe, and presently witlv-
drawing the hand and clapping it to the lips. Some
attribute the origin of this practice to Constantins. It
was only persons of some rank or dignity that were en¬
titled to the honour. Bare kneeling before the empe¬
ror to deliver a petition, was also called adoration.
The practice of adoration may be said to be still sub¬
sisting in England, in the ceremony of kissing the king’s
or queen’s hand, and in serving them at table, both be¬
ing performed kneeling.
Adoration is more particularly used for kissing
one’s hand in presence of another, as a token of rever¬
ence. The Jews adored by kissing their hands and
bowing down their heads j whence, in their language,
kissing is properly used for adoration.
Adoration is also used among Roman writers for
91 ] ADO
a high species of applause given to persons who had Adoration,
spoken or performed well in public. See Acclama- Adorea.
TION). We meet with adoration paid to orators, ac- *~,mf
tors, musicians, &c. The method of expressing it was,
by rising, putting both hands to their mouth, and then
returning them towards the person intended to be ho¬
noured.
Adoration is also used in the court of Rome, for
the ceremony of kissing the pope’s feet.—The intro¬
duction of adoration among the Romans is ascribed to
the low flattery ofYitellius, who, upon the return of C.
Caesar from Syria, would not approach him otherwise
than with his head covered, turning himself round, and
then falling on his face. Heliogabalus restored the
practice, and Alexander Severus again prohibited it.
Dioclesian redemanded it ; and it was, in some mea¬
sure, continued under the succeeding princes, even af¬
ter the establishment of Christianity, as Constantine,
Constantius, &c. It is particularly said of Dioclesian,
that he had gems fastened to his shoes, that divine ho¬
nours might be more willingly paid him, by kissing his
feet. The like usage was afterwards adopted by the
popes, and is observed to this day. These prelates,
finding a vehement disposition in the people to fall
down before them and kiss their feet, procured cruci¬
fixes to be fastened on their slippers j by which strata¬
gem, the adoration intended for the pope’s person is
supposed to be transferred to Christ. Divers acts of this
adoration we find offered even by princes to the pope.
Adoration is also used for a method of electing a
pope. The election of popes is performed two ways j
by adoration and by scrutiny. In election by adora¬
tion, the cardinals rush hastily, as if agitated by some
spirit, to the adoration of some one among them, to
proclaim him pope. When the election is carried by
scrutiny, they do not adore the new pope till he is
placed on the altar.
Barbarous Adoration is a term used, in the law’s of
King Canute, for that performed after the manner of
the heathens who adored idols. The Romish church
is charged with the adoration of saints, martyrs, images,
crucifixes, relics, the virgin, and the host 5 all which
by Protestants are generally aggravated into idolatry,
on a supposition, that the honour thus paid to them
is absolute and supreme, called by way of distinction
Latria, which is due only to God. The Roman Catho¬
lics, on the contrary, explain them, as only a relative
or subordinate worship, called Dulia and Hyperdulia,
which terminates ultimately in God alone. But may
not the same be said of the idol worship of the hea¬
thens ? The Phoenicians adored the winds, on account
of the terrible effects produced by them $ the same was
adopted by most of the other nations, Persians, Greeks,
Romans, &c. The Persians chiefly paid their adora¬
tions to the sun and fire j some say also to rivers, the
wind, &c. The motive of adoring the sun was the be¬
nefits they received from that glorious luminary, which
of all creatures has doubtless the best pretensions to
such homage.
ADOREA, in Roman antiquity, a word used in
difl'erent senses ; sometimes for all manner of grain,
sometimes for a kind of cakes made of fine flour, and
offered in sacrifice ; and finally for a dole or distribu¬
tion of corn, as a reward for some service 5 whence by
metonymy it is put for praise or rewards in general.
AD OSCULATION,
ADR [ 192 ] ADR
Adoscula- ADOSCULATION, a term used by Dr Grew, to
*tion imply a kind of impregnation, without intromission j
ii and in this manner he supposes the impregnation of
Adraimm. p|ants js efl^cteii tl]e failing of the farina foecundans
on the pistil.
ADOS3EE', in Heraldry, signifies two figures or
bearings being placed back to back.
ADOUR, the name of a liver of France, which
rises in the mountains of Bigorre, in the department of
the Upper Pyrenees, and running north by Tarbes
through Gascony, afterwards turns east, and passing by
Dax, falls into the bay of Biscay, below Bayonne.
ADOWA, the capital of Tigre in Abyssinia, is si¬
tuated on the declivity of a hill on the west side ol a
small plain, which is surrounded on every side by moun¬
tains. The name, signifying paiss or passage, is cha¬
racteristic of its situation 5 for the only road from the
Red sea to Gondar passes by Admva. The town con¬
sists of 300 houses, is the residence of the governor, and
has a manufactory of coarse cotton cloth which circu¬
lates in Abyssinia as the medium of exchange in place
of money. N. Lat. 14. 7- E. Long. 38. 50.
ADOXA, Tuberous Moschatel, Hollow-
hoot, or Inglorious, in Botany. See Botany
Index.
AD PONDUS OMNIUM, among physicians, an abbre¬
viation in their prescriptions, signifying that the last-
mentioned ingredient is to weigh as much as all the
rest together.
Ad Quod Damnum, in the English Law, a writ di¬
rected to the sheriff, commanding him to inquire into
the damage which may arise from granting certain pri¬
vileges to a place, as a fair, a market, or the like.
ADRA, in Geography, a sea-port town of the pro¬
vince of Granada, in Spain, 47 miles south-east of Gra¬
nada. N. Lat. 36. 42. E. Long. 2. 37.
ADRACHNE, in Botany, a species of the straw¬
berry tree. See Arbutus, Botany Index.
ADRAMMELECH, one of the gods of the inha¬
bitants of Sepharvaim, who were settled in the country
of Samaria, in the room of those Israelites who were
carried beyond the Euphrates. The Sepharvaites made
their children pass through the fire, in honour of this
idol and another called Anamelech. It is supposed,
that Adrammelech meant the sun, and Anamelech the
moon : the first signifies the magnificent king; the se¬
cond the gentle king.
ADRAMYTTIUM, in Ancient Geography, now
Andramiti, a town of Mysia Major, at the foot of
Mount Ida, an Athenian colony, with a harbour and
dock near the Caicus. Adramyttenus the epithet j as,
Adramyttenus Sinus, a part of the Egean sea, on the
coast of Mysia j Adra?nyttenus Conventus, sessions or
assizes, the eighth in order of the nine Conventus Juri-
dici of the province of Asia.
ADRANA, a river of Germany (Polybius) j now
the Eder, rising on the borders of the county of Nas¬
sau, to the north-east of, and not far from Dillen-
burg, running through the landgraviate of Hesse, the
county of Waldeck, by Fritzlar, and then again
through the landgraviate, and, together with the Fulda,
falling into the Weser, to the south of, and not far
from Cassel.
ADRANUM, or Hadranum, in Ancient Geogra¬
phy, now Aderno, which see.
3
ADRASTEA, in mythology, was the daughter of Adrastej
Jupiter and Necessity, and, according to Plutarch, the |j
only fury who executed the vengeance of the gods. Adrian
The name is derived from King Adrastus, who first y~"'|
erected a temple to that deity.
Adrastea Certamina, in antiquity, a kind of Py-
th ian games, instituted by Adrastus king of Argos, in
the year of the world 2700, in honour of Apollo, at
Sicyon. These are to be distinguished from the Py¬
thian games celebrated at Delphi.
ADRASTUS, in ancient history, king of Argos,
son of Talaus and Lysianissa, daughter of Polybius
king of Sicyon, acquired great honour in the famous
war of Thebes, in support of Polynices his son-in-law,
•who had been excluded the sovereignty of Thebes by
Eteocles his brother, notwithstanding their reciprocal
agreement. Adrastus, followed by Polynices, and Ty-
dtus his other son-in-law, by Capaneus and Hippome-
don his sister’s sons, by Amphiaraus his brother-in-law,
and by Parthenopaeus, marched against the city of
Thebes; and this is the expedition of the Seven Wor¬
thies, which the poets have so often sung. They all
lost their lives in this war except Adrastus, who was
saved by his horse called Arion. This war was revived
ten years after by the sons of those deceased warriors,
which was called the war of the Epigones, and ended
with the taking of Thebes. None of them lost their
lives except iEgialeus son of Adrastus j which afflicted
him so much that he died of grief in Megara, as he was
leading back his victorious army.
ADRAZZO, or Ajaccio. The same with Ad-
JAZZO, which see.
ADRIA, or Hadria, in Ancient Geography, the
name of two towns in Italy. One in the country of
the Veneti, on the river Tartarus, between the Padus
and the Athesis, called Atria by Pliny and Ptolemy,
but Adrias by Strabo. Another on the river Voma-
nus, in the territory of the Piceni (to which Anto-
nine’s Itinerary from Rome is directed), the country of
the ancestors of the emperor Adrian. From which of
these the Adriatic sea is denominated, is matter of
doubt. A third opinion is, that it is so called from
Adrias the son of Joan, of Italian origin j (Eustathius
in Dionysium).
ADRIAN, or Hadrian, Publius ^Elius, the
Roman emperor. He was born at Rome the 24th of
January, in the 76th year of Christ, A. U. C. 829.
His father left him an orphan, at ten years of age,
under the guardianship of Trajan, and Coslius Tatianus
a Roman knight. He began to serve very early in
the armies, having been tribune of a legion before the
death of Domitian. Fie was the person chosen by the
army of Lower Moesia, to carry the news of Nerva’s
death to Trajan, successor to the empire. Trajan,
however, conceived some prejudices against him, and
Adrian perceiving that he was no favourite with the
emperor, endeavoured to ingratiate himself with the
empress Plotina, by which means he succeeded in ob¬
taining for his wife, Sabina, the emperor’s grand-niece
and next heiress. This was probably the first step to
his future advancement, and facilitated his ascent to
the throne. As qusestor he accompanied Trajan in
most of his expeditions, and particularly distinguished
himself in the second war against the Dacians. After¬
wards he was successively tribune of the people, praetor,
, governor
A T> U [ 193 ] ADR
drian. governor of Pannonia, and consul. After the siege
of Atra in Arabia was raised, Trajan, who had al¬
ready given him the government of Syria, left him
the command of the army: and at length, when he
found death approaching, it is said he adopted him.
Adrian, who was then in Antiochia, as soon as he re¬
ceived the news thereof, and of Trajan’s death, declared
himself emperor, on the nth of August, A. D. 117.
No sooner had he arrived at the imperial dignity,
than he made peace with the Persians, to whom he
yielded up great part of the conc[uests of his predeces¬
sors j and from generosity, or policy, he remitted the
debts of the Roman people, which, according to the
calculation of those who have reduced them to modern
money, amounted to 22,500,000 golden crowns j and
he burnt all the bonds and obligations relating to those
debts, that the people might be under no apprehension
of being called to an account for them afterwards.
There are medals in commemoration of this fact, in
which he is represented holding a .flambeau in his
hand, to set fire to all those bonds which he had made
void. He went to visit all the provinces ; and did not
return to Rome till the year 118, wdien the senate de¬
creed him a triumph, and honoured him with the title
of Father of his country ; but he refused both, and de¬
sired that Trajan’s image might triumph. No prince
travelled more than Adrian j there being hardly one
province in the empire which he did not visit. In
120 he went into Gaul ; from thence he went over to
Rritain, in order to subdue the Caledonians, who were
making continual inroads into the provinces. Upon his
arrival they retired towards the north: he advanced,
however, as far as York, where he was diverted from
his intended conquest by the description some old
soldiers he found there, who had served under A-
gricola, gave him of the country. In hopes, there¬
fore, of keeping them quiet, by enlarging their
bounds, he delivered up to the Caledonians all the
lands lying between the two friths and the Tyne $
and, at the same time, to secure the Roman pro¬
vince from their future incursions, built the famous
wall which still bears his name (a). Having thus set¬
tled matters in Britain, he returned to Rome, where
he was honoured with the title of Restorer of Britain,
as appears by some medals. He soon after went into
Spain, to Mauritania, and at length into the East,
where he quieted the commotions raised by the P^r-
thians. After having visited all the provinces of Asia,
he returned to Athens in 125, where he passed the
VOL. I. Part I. f
winter, and was intitiated in the mysteries of Eleusinian
Ceres. He went from thence to Sicily, chiefly to view
Mount/Etna, contemplate its phenomena, and enjoy
the beautiful and extensive prospect afforded from its
top. He returned to Rome the beginning of the year
1295 and, according to some, he went again, the same
year, to Africa $ and, after his return from thence, to
the east. He was in Egypt in the year 132, revisited
Syria the year following, returned to Athens in 134,
and to Rome in 135. The persecution against the
Christians was very violent under his reign ; but it was
at length suspended, in consequence of the remonstrances
of Quadratys bishop of Athens, and Aristides, two Chri¬
stian philosophers, who presented the emperor with some
books in favour of the Christian religion. He con¬
quered the Jews : and, by way of insult, erected a
temple to Jupiter on Calvary, and placed a statue of
Adonis in. the manger of Bethlehem ; he caused also
the images of swine to be engraven on the gates of Je¬
rusalem. At last he was seized with a dropsy, which
vexed him to such a degree, that he became almost
raving mad. A great number of physicians were sent
for, ami to the multitude of them he ascribed his death.
He died at Baise in the 63d year of his age, having
reigned 2r years. The Latin verses he addressed to
his soul, which he composed a short time before his
d^eath, in a strain of tender levity, have been much
criticised, and have been the subject of numerous trans¬
lations and imitations.
Aninmla vagula, blandula,
Hospes, comesque corporis,
Quce nunc abibis in loca
Pallidula, rigida, nudula,
Nee, ut soles, dabisjocos P
Ah ! fleeting spirit! wand’ring fire,
That long hast warm’d my tender breast*
Must thou no more this frame inspire ?
No more a pleasing cheerful guest ?
Whither, ah whither art thou flying ?
To what dark undiscover’d shore ?
Thou seem’st all trembling, shiv’ring, dying,
And wit and humour are no more !
Pope.
Some fragments of his Latin poetry are still extant,
and there are Greek verses of his in the Anthology.
He also wrote the history of his own life; to which,
however, he did not choose to put his name j but that
B b of
(a) This work, though called by the Roman historians mums, which signifies a wall of stone, was only com¬
posed of earth covered with green turf. It was carried on from the Solway frith, a little west of the village
of Burgh on the Sands, in as direct a line as possible, to the river Tyne on the east, at the place where the
town of Newcastle now stands $ so that it must have been above 60 English, and near 70 Roman miles in
length. It consisted of four parts : 1. The principal agger, mound of earth or rampart, on the brink of the
ditch. 2. The ditch on the north side of the rampart. 3. Another rampart on the south side of the principal
one, about five paces distant from it. 4. A large rampart on the north side of the ditch.—This last was probably
the military way to the line of forts on this work : it was so to those Formerly built by Agricola: and if it
did not serve the same purpose in this, there must have been no military way attending it.—The south rampart
might serve for an inner defence in case the enemy should beat them from any part of the principal rampart,
or it might be designed to protect the soldiers from any sudden attack of the provincial Britons.—For many
ages, this work hath been in so ruinous a condition, that it is impossible to discover its original dimensions with
certainty. From their appearance, it seems probable that the principal rampart was at least 10 or 12 feet
ADR [ 194. ] ADR
of Plilegon, one of his freed-men, a very learned per¬
son, was prefixed to it*. He had great wit and a
retentive memory, and he distinguished himself in the
various branches of literature and science. In his na¬
tural disposition he was suspicious, envious, cruel, and
lascivious. In his character there was a strange com¬
position of virtues and vices. He was affable, courteous,
and liberal $ but he was capricious and unsteady in his
attachments, and violent in his resentment. Thus he
was distrusted by his friends, and dreaded by his ene¬
mies. Antoninus his successor obtained his apothe¬
osis j and prevented the rescision of his acts, which the
senate once intended.
Adrian I. Pope, ascended the papal throne, A. D.
y'72. Pie was the son of Theodore, a Roman noble¬
man, and possessed considerable talents for business.
He maintained a steady attachment to Charlemagne,
which provoked Hesiderius, a king of the Lombards, to
invade the state of Ravenna, and to threaten Rome it¬
self. Charlemagne rewarded his attachment, by march¬
ing with a great army to his aid ; and having gained
many considerable advantages over Desiderius, he vi¬
sited the pope at Rome, and expressed his piety, by the
humiliating ceremony of kissing each of the steps, as he
ascended to the church of St Peter. The aflairs of
the church now claimed Adrian’s particular attention :
for Irene, who, in 780, assumed the regency at Constan¬
tinople, during the minority of her son Constantine, wish¬
ing to restore the worship of images, applied to Adrian
for his concurrence. The pontiff readily acquiesced in
her proposal for calling a council, and commissioned
two legates to attend it. The first council, however,
was dispersed by an insurrection of the citizens ; but at
the next meeting in the city of Nice, in 787, which
was protected by a military force, a decree was passed
for restoring the worship of images. Adrian approved
the decree, but in the western church it was deemed
heretical and dangerous. Charlemagne condemned
the innovation, and the French and English clergy con¬
curred in opposing it. A treatise, containing 120
heads of refutation, was circulated, as the work of
Charlemagne, under the title of “ The Caroline Books,”
in opposition to the decree of the council. This work
was presented to the pope by the king’s ambassador,
and the pope wrote a letter to Charlemagne by way of
reply. The king, and also the Galilean and English
churches, retained their sentiments j and, in 794, a
council was held at Frankfort on the Maine, consisting
of about 300 western bishops, by which every kind of
image-worship was condemned. Adrian did not live
to see a termination of this contest j for after a pontifi¬
cate of nearly twenty-four years, he died in 795. A-
drian seems to have directed his chief attention to the
embellishment of the churches, and the improvement
of the city of Rcme 5 and he was probably furnished
by Charlemagne, out of the plunder of his conquests,
with ample means for this purpose.
Adrian II. Pope, succeeded Nicholas I. A. H.
867. Having twice refused the dignity, he accepted
it in the 76th year of his age, at the united request of
the clergy, nobility, and people. The contest, for
power between the Greek and Latin churches had been
very violent some years before his accession to the
papal chair.
Adrian, during this contest with the eastern patriarch,
was extending his authority over the kings and princes
of the west. He employed his whole interest to induce
Charles the Bald, who had taken possession of the king¬
dom of Lorraine, and who had been crowned at Rheims
by the archbishop Hincmar, to relinquish it in favour
of the emperor 5 and he even sent legates to the king,
after having attempted to engage Hincmar, the clergy,
and the nobility, to desert him, ordering him to surren¬
der to the emperor’s right. The king was invincible 5
and the pope was obliged to give up the contest. He
also farther interfered in the concerns of princes, by
taking Charles’s rebellious son Carloman, and the
younger Hincmar, bishop of Laon, under the protec¬
tion of the Roman see. He proceeded in this business
so far, that he was under the necessity of submitting
without gaining his point. Death terminated his am¬
bitious projects and his life of inquietude, A. D. 872,
after a pontificate of five years.
Adrian IV. Pope, the only Englishman who ever'
had the honour of sitting in the papal chair. His
name was Nicholas Brekespere j and he was born at
Langley, near St Alban’s, in Hertfordshire. His
father having left his family, and taken the habit of
the monastery of St Alban’s, Nicholas was obliged to
submit to the lowest offices in that house for daily sup¬
port. After some time, he desired to take the habit in
that monastery, but was rejected by the abbot Richard.
Upon this he resolved to try his fortune in another coun¬
try, and accordingly went to Paris j where, though in
very poor circumstances, he applied himself to his
studies with great assiduity, and made a wonderful pro¬
ficiency. But having still a strong inclination to a re¬
ligious life, he left Paris, and removed to Provence,
where he became a regular clerk in the monastery of
St Rufus. He was not immediately allowed to take
the habit; but passed some time, by way of trial, in re¬
commending himself to the monks by a strict attention
to all their commands. This behaviour, together with
the beauty of his person, and prudent conversation,
rendered him so acceptable to those religious, that af¬
ter some time they entreated him to take the habit of
the canonical order. Here he distinguished himself so
much by his learning and strict observance of the mo¬
nastic discipline, that upon the death of the abbot, he
was chosen superior of that house $ and we are told
that he rebuilt the convent. Pope Eugenius III.
being apprised of the great merit of Nicholas, and
thinking he might be serviceable to the church in a
higher station, created him cardinal-bishop of Alba
in 1146. In 1148, his holiness sent him legate to
Denmark and Norway ; where, by his fervent preach-
bigh, and the south one not much less ; but the north one was considerably lower. From the dimensions of the
ditch, taken as it passes through a lime-stone quarry near Harlow hill, it appears to have been 9 feet deep, and
11 wide at the top, but somewhat narrower at the bottom. The north rampart was about 20 feet distant from
the ditch.
ADR [ ]
t m-|an ant^ instructions, lie converted those bar-
i barous nations to the Christian faith, and erected Up-
sal into an archiepiscopal see. When he returned to
Rome, he was received by the pope and cardinals with
great marks of honour j and Pope Anastasius, who
succeeded Eugenius, happening to die at this time,
Nicholas was unanimously chosen to the holy see, in
November 1154, and he took the name of Adrian.
WThen the news of his promotion reached England,
King IJenry II. sent Robert abbot of St Alban’s, and
three bishops, to Rome, to congratulate him on his
election j upon which occasion Adrian granted very
considerable privileges to the monastery of St Alban’s,
particularly an exemption from all episcopal jurisdic¬
tion, excepting to the see of Rome. Adrian, in the
beginning of his pontificate, boldly withstood the at¬
tempts of the Roman people to recover their ancient
liberty under the consuls, and obliged those magistrates
to abdicate their authority, and leave the government
of the city to the pope. In 1155, he drove the he¬
retic Arnaud of Bresse, and his followers, out of
Rome. The same year he excommunicated William
king of Sicily, who ravaged the territories of the
church, and absolved that prince’s subjects from their
allegiance. About the same time, Frederick king of
the Romans, having entered Italy with a powerful
army, Adrian met him near Sutrium, and concluded
a peace with him. At this interview, Frederick con¬
sented to hold the pope’s stirrup whilst he mounted on
horseback. After which, his holiness conducted that
prince to Rome, and in St Peter’s church placed the
imperial crown on his head, to the great mortification
of the Roman people, who assembled in a tumultuous
manner, and killed several of the Imperialists. The
next year a reconciliation was brought about between
the pope and the Sicilian king, that prince taking an
oath to do nothing farther to the prejudice of the
church, and Adrian granting him the title of King of
the Two Sicilies. He built and fortified several castles,
and left the papal dominions in a more flourishing con¬
dition than he found them. But notwithstanding all
his success, he was extremely sensible of the disquietudes
attending so high a station ; and declared to his coun¬
tryman John of Salisbury, that all the former hardships
of his life were mere amusement to the misfortunes of
the popedom j that he looked upon St Peter’s chair to
be the most uneasy seat in the world; and that his
Bfflrtnw# crown seemed to be clapped burning on his head*. He
!aa.,<m'<lied September I. U59, in the fourth year and tenth
54; ’ month of his pontificate; and was buried in St Peter’s
church, near the tomb of his predecessor Eugenius.
There are extant several letters, and some homilies,
written by Pope Adrian.
Adrian V. Pope, a Genoese, whose name was Ot-
toboni Fiesci, succeeded Innocent V. A. D. 1276, He
was by his uncle Innocent IV. created cardinal deacon
of St Adrian, and in 1254 sent by him to England,
to settle the disputes between Henry III. and his ba¬
rons. He was employed again for the same purpose,
by Clement III. when he issued a sentence of excom¬
munication against the king’s enemies. When he was
congratulated on his accession to the papal chair, he
said, “ I wish you had found me a healthy cardinal,
rather than a dying pope.” After his election he
went to Viterbo to meet the emperor Rodolphus, for
2
95 ] ADR"
the purpose of opposing the usurpation of Charles, king
of the Two Sicilies; but died soon after his arrival,
having enjoyed his dignity only thirty-eight days. He
zealously encouraged the crusade to the Holy Land,
and upon his election sent a large sum to Constantinople
towards building galleys.
Adrian, cardinal priest, of the title of St Chry-
sogonus, was a native of Cornetto in Tuscany. In¬
nocent VIII. sent him nuncio into Scotland and into
I ranee ; and after he had been clerk and treasurer of
the apostolic chamber, Pope Alexander VI. whose se¬
cretary he had been, honoured him with the cardinal’s
hat. His life was a continued scene of odd alterations.
He narrovyly escaped death the day Alexander VI.
poisoned himself by mistake. Afterward he drew upon
himself the hatred of Julius II. so that he was obliged
to go and hide himself in the mountains of Tr^nt.
Having been recalled by Leo X. he was so ungrate¬
ful, that he engaged in a conspiracy against him. The
pope pardoned his fault; but the cardinal, not caring
to trust to this, made his escape, and it could never
be known exactly what was become of him. He was
one of the first who effectually reformed the Latin
style. He studied Cicero with great success, and
made many excellent observations on the propriety of
the Latin tongue. The treatise he composed De Ser-
mone Latino, is a proof of this. He had begun a La¬
tin translation of the Old Testament. He wrote Tie
V?ra Philosophia : This treatise was printed at Cologne,
1548.
Adrian VI. Pope, was born at Utrecht in 1459.
His father was not able to maintain him at school, but
he got a place at Louvain, in a college in which a cer¬
tain number of scholars were maintained gratis. It is
reported that he used to read in the night time by the
light of the lamps in the churches or streets. He made
a considerable progress in all the sciences ; led an ex¬
emplary life; and there never was a man less intriguing
and forward than he was. He took his degree of doc¬
tor of divinity at Louvain ; was soon after made canon
of St Peter’s, and professor of divinity at Utrecht, and
then dean of St Peter’s and vice-chancellor of the uni¬
versity. He was obliged to leave an academical life,
to be tutor to the archduke Charles. This young
prince made no great progress under him : however,
never was a tutor more considerably rewarded ; for it
was by Charles V.’s credit he was raised to the papal
throne. Leo X. had given him the cardinal’s hat.in
1517. After this pope’s death, several cabals in the
conclave ended in the election of Adrian, with which
the people of Rome were very much displeased. He
would not change his name, and in every thing he
showed a great dislike for all ostentation and sensual
pleasures, though such an aversion had been long ago
out of date. He was very partial to Charles V. and
did not enjoy much tranquillity under the triple crown.
He lamented much the wicked morals of the clergy,
and wished to establish a reformation of manners among
them. He died September 14. 1523.
ADRIANI, Joanni Battista, was born of a pa¬
trician family of Florence in 1511. He wrote a Hi¬
story of his own Times in Italian ; which is a continua¬
tion of Guicciardini, beginning at the year 1336;
to which Thuanus acknowledges himself greatly in¬
debted ; besides which, he composed six funeral ora-
B b 2 lions,
Adrian,
Adriaui.
A D K [ 196 } A D V
Adriani ti°ns> on ^ie emperor Charles V. and other noble
1 |j personages 5 and is thought to have been the author of
Adriar.um. a long letter on ancient painters and sculptors, prefix-
' v—- ed to the third volume of Vasari. He died at Florence
in 1579.
ADKI ANfSTS, in ecclesiastical history, a sect of
heretics divided into two branches, the first were disci¬
ples of Simon Magus, and flourished about the year 34.
Theodoret is the only person who has preserved their
name and memory ; but he gives us no account of their
origin. Probably this sect, and the six others which
sprung from the Simonians, took their name from the
particular disciples of Simon. The second were the
followers of Adrian Hamstead the anabaptist j and held
some particular errors concerning Christ.
ADRIANOPLE, a city of Turkey in Europe, in
the province of Romania, and the see of an archbishop
under the patriarch of Constantinople. It is about
seven or eight miles in circumference, including the old
city and some gardens. The houses are low, mostly
built of mud and clay, and some of brick : and the
streets are exceedingly dirty. The walls and towers are
in a great measure fallen to decay. However, there is
a beautiful bazar, or market, half a mile long, called
Ali Bassa. It is a vast arched building, with six gates,
and 365 well furnished shops, kept by Turks, Arme¬
nians, and Jews, who pay five crowns a-month for
each shop. The number of inhabitants of all nations
and religions may be about 100,000; but it is dear
jiving here, because the provisions are brought from
distant places. The air is wholesome, and the coun¬
try very pleasant in the summer time, on account of
the river and streams that run near and about the city ;
the chief of which is the Mariza. These promote and
preserve the verdure of the gardens, meadows, and
fields, for a considerable part of the year. In the win¬
ter there is plenty of game. Near the principal bazar
there is another, about a mile in length, covered with
boards, with holes on each side to let in the light. It
is full of good shops, which contain all kinds of com¬
modities. Sultan Selim’s mosque stands on the side of
a hill, in the midst of the city ; and hence this magni¬
ficent structure may be seen on all sides. Every thing
made of gold and silver, jewels, pistols, scimitars, &c.
are sold in another part of the city, called by travellers
the bi%estein, though it differs little from a bazar.
This contains about 200 shops, and is covered like the
former: but the covering is supported by two rows of
large pillars. The grand vizier’s palace is nothing
more than a convenient house, after the Turkish man¬
ner of building. The emperor’s seraglio is a regular
structure, in a plain near the river Tungia. It is two
miles in compass, and has seven gates, besides those of
the gardens, which are several miles in circumference.
The city is governed by a mullah cadi, who has an ab¬
solute authority both in civil and criminal matters. In
the time of the plague, or ivar, the grand signior some¬
times resides here. The Turks took this city from the
Greeks in 1362, and made it the capital of empire, till
Mahomet II took Constantinople in 1453. E. Long.
26. 27. N. Lat. 41. 41.
ADRIANUM (or Adriaticum) MARE, in An¬
cient Geography, now the gulf of Venice, a large bay
rn the Mediterranean, between Dalmatia, Sclavonia,
Greece, and Italy., It is called by the Greeks Aztecs
3.
Ko^ttis ; and Adria by the Romans, (as Arbiter Adrice Adiianur
Notus, Hor.) Cicero calls it Hadrianum Mare; Virgil I)
has Hadriaticas Undas. It is commonly called Mare, Advent.
Adriaticum without an aspiration ; but whether it ‘ v^’
ought to have one, is a dispute: if the appellation is
from Hadria, the town of the Piceni, it must be writ¬
ten Hadriaticum, because the emperor’s name, who
thence derives his origin, is on coins and stones Hadri-
anus ; but if from the town in the territory of Venice,
as the more ancient, and of which that of the Piceni
is a colony, this will justify the common appellation
Adriaticum.
ADROGATION, in Roman antiquities, a species
of adoption, whereby a person who was capable of
choosing for himself was admitted by another into the
relation of a son. The word is compounded of ad,
“ to,” and rogare, “ to ask on account of a question
put in the ceremony of it, Whether the adopter would
take such a person for his son ? and another to the
adoptive, Whether he consented to become such a per¬
son’s son ?
ABSIDELLA, in antiquity, the table at which the
flamens sat during the sacrifices.
ADSTRICTION, among physicians, a term used
to denote the rigidity of any part.
ADUACA, or Atuaca, anciently a large and fa¬
mous city of the Tungri ; now a small and inconsider¬
able village, called Tongeren, in the bishopric of Liege,
to the north-west of the city of Liege, in the territory
of Haspengow, on the rivulet decker, that soon af¬
ter falls into the Maese. E. Long. 5. 52. N. Lat. 50.
•54-
ADVANCE, in the mercantile style, denotes money
paid before goods are delivered, work done, or business
performed.
ADVANCED, in a general sense, denotes some¬
thing posted or situated before another. Thus,
Advanced Ditch, in Fortification, is that which sur¬
rounds the glacis or esplanade of a place.
Advanced Guard, or Vanguard, in the art of war,
the first line or division of an army, ranged or marching
in order of battle ; or, it is that part which is next the
enemy, and marches first towards them.
Advanced Guard, is more particularly used for a
small party of horse stationed before the main guard.
ADVANCER, among sportsmen, one of the starts
or branches of a buck’s attire, between the back antler
and the palm.
ADUAR, in the Arabian and Moorish customs, a
kind of ambulatory village, consisting of tents, which
these people remove from one place to another, as suits
their conveniency.
ADVENT, in the calendar, properly signifies the
approach of the feast of the nativity. It includes four
Sundays, which begins on St Andrew’s day or on the
Sunday before or after it. During advent, and to the
end of the octaves of epiphany, the solemnizing of
marriage is forbidden without a special license. It is
appointed to employ the thoughts of Christians on the
first advent or coming of Christ in the flesh, and his.
second advent or coming to judge the world. The pri¬
mitive Christians practised great austerity during this
season.
Ad ventrem lNSPlciENDUM,inZem,awrit by which!
a woman .is to be searched whether she be with child,
by
A D V [ 197
Ldfent, by a former husband, on her withholding of lands from
venture* the next, failing issue of her own body.
ADVENTURE, in a general sense, some extraor¬
dinary or accidental event. It also denotes a hazard¬
ous or difficult undertaking.
Bill of Adventure, among merchants, a writing
signed by a merchant, testifying the goods mentioned
in it to be shipped on board a certain vessel belonging
to another person, who is to run all hazards ; the mer¬
chant only obliging himself to account to him for the
produce.
Adventure Bay, in Van Diemen’s land. “ There
is a beautiful sandy beach, about two miles long, at the
bottom of Adventure bay, formed to all appearance
by the particles which the sea washes from a line white
sand-stone. This beach is very w'ell adapted for haul¬
ing a seine. Behind it is a plain, with a brackish
lake, out of which we caught, by angling, some bream
and trout. The parts adjoining the bay are mostly
hilly, and are an entire forest of tall trees, rendered
almost impassable by brakes of fern, shrubs, Sec. The
soil on the flat land, and on the lower part of the
hills, is sandy, or consists of a yellowish earth, and
in some parts of a reddish clay; but further up the
hills, it is of a gray tough cast. This country, upon
the whole, bears many marks of being very dry, and
the heat appears to be great. No mineral bodies, nor
stones of any other kind than the white sand-stone,
were observed by us ; nor could we find any vegetables
that afforded subsistence for man. The forest trees
are all of one kind, and generally quite straight: they
bear clusters of small white flowers. The principal
plants observed, are wood-sorrel, milkwort, cudweed,
bell-flower, gladiolus, samphire, and several kinds of
fern ; the only quadruped, a species of opossum, about
twice the size of a large rat. The kangooroo, found
further northward in New Holland, may also be sup¬
posed to inhabit here, as some of the inhabitants had
pieces of the skin of that animal.
“ The principal sorts of birds in the woods are brown
hawks or eagles, crows, large pigeons, yellowish parro-
quets, and a species which they called motacillacyanea,
from the beautiful azure colour of its head and neck.
On the shore were several gulls, black oyster-catchers,
or sea pies, and plovers of a stone colour.
“ The inhabitants seemed mild and cheerful, with
little of that wild appearance that savages in general
have. They are almost totally devoid of personal ac¬
tivity or genius, and are nearly upon a par with the
wretched natives of Terra del Fuego. They display,
however, some contrivance in their method of cutting
their arms and bodies in lines of different directions,
raised above the surface of the skin. Their indiffer¬
ence for presents, their general inattention and want
of curiosity, were very remarkable, and testified no
acuteness of understanding. Their complexion is a
dull black, which they sometimes heighten by smut¬
ting their bodies, as was supposed, from their leaving
a mark behind on any clean substance. Their hair is
perfectly woolly, and is clotted with grease and red
ochre, like that of the Hottentots. Their noses are
broad and full, and the lower part of the face projects
considerably. Their eyes are of a moderate size ; and
though they are not very quick or piercing, they give
the countenance a frank, cheerful, and pleasing cast.
J
A D U
iheir teeth are not very white, nor well set, and their
mouths are too wide : they wear their beards long, and
clotted with paint. They are, upon the whole, well
proportioned, though their belly is rather protuberant.
I heir favourite attitude is to stand with one side for¬
ward, and one hand grasping, across the back, the op¬
posite arm, which on this occasion hangs down by the
side that projects.” Cook's Voyages.
ADVENTURER, in a general sense, denotes one
who hazards something.
Adventurers, Kis particularly used for an ancient
company of merchants and traders, erected for the dis¬
covery of lands, territories, trades, &c. unknown. The
society of adventurers had its rise in Burgundy, and
its first establishment from John duke of Brabant in
1248, being known by the name of The brotherhood
of St Thomas a Becket. It was afterwards translated
into England, and successively confirmed by Edward
III. and IV. Richard III. Henry IV. V. VI. and
VII. who gave it the appellation of Merchant Adven¬
turers.
ADVERB , in Grammar, a particle joined to a verb,
adjective, or participle, to explain their manner of act¬
ing or suffering; or to mark some circumstance or
quality signified by them. The word is formed from
the preposition ad, “to,” and verbum, “ a verb ;” and
signifies literally a word joined to a verb, to show how,
when, or where, one is, does, or suffers ; as, the boy
paints neatly, writes ill; the house stands there, &c.
See Grammar.
ADVERSARIA, among the ancients, a book of
accounts, not unlike our journals, or day-books. It is
more particularly used for a kind of common-place
book. See Common-place book.
AD^ ERSATIVE, in Grammar, a word expressing
some difference between what goes before and what
follows it. Thus, in the phrase, he is an honest man,
but a great enthusiast, the word but is an adversative
conjunction.
ADVERSATOR, in antiquity, a servant who at¬
tended the rich in returning from supper, to give them
notice of any obstacles in the way, at which they
might be apt to stumble.
ADVERTISEMENT, in a genex-al sense, denotes
any information given to persons interested in an affair;
and is more particularly used for a brief account of an
aftair inserted in the public papers, for the information
of all concerned.
ADULA, in Ancient Geography, a mountain in
Rhaetia, or the country of the Grisons, part of the Alps,
in which are the fountains of the Rhine; now St Go-
thards.
ADULE, or Adulis, in Ancient Geography, a town
of Egypt built by fugitive slaves, distant from its port
on the Red sea 20 stadia. Pliny calls the inhabitants
Adulitae. The epithet is CuAwt Adulitanus; as, Mo*
numentum Adulitanum, on the pompous inscription of
the statue of Ptolemy Euergetes, published by Leo
Alatius, at Rome in 1631, and to be found in Spon
and Thevenot: or Adulicus; as Adulicus Sinus, a part
of the Red sea.
ADULT, an appellation given to any thing that is
arrived at maturity: Thus we say an adult person, an
adult plant, &c. Among civilians, it denotes a youth
between 14 and 25 years of age,
ADULTERER.
Adventure
11
Adult.
A D U [ 198 ] A D U
Adulterer ADULTERER, a man who commits adultery,
i! See Adultery.
Adulterine. ADULTERESS, a woman guilty of Adultery.
1" * An adulteress, by our law, undergoes no temporal pu¬
nishment whatever, except the loss of her dower $ and
she does not lose even that, if her husband is weak
enough to be reconciled to her, and cohabit with her
after the offence committed. 13 Ed. I. cap. 34.
But it is to be observed that adulteresses are such
either by the canon or civil law. According to the
former, a woman is an adulteress who, either being
herself married, converses carnally with another man •,
or being single herself, converses with a man that is
married. According to the latter, she is not an adul¬
teress, if she be not herself in the married state, though
she converses with a man that is. The crime, in this
case, was more properly called stuprum than adulterium.
Hence, among the Romans the word adult era, “ a-
duiteress,” differed from pellex, which denoted a single
woman who cohabited with a married man ; and pel-
lex differed from concubina, which signified her who had
only intercourse with an unmarried man. The former
was reputed infamous, and the other innocent.
ADULTERATION, the act of debasing, by an
improper mixture, something that was pure and ge¬
nuine.
The word is Latin, formed of the verb adulter are,
to corrupt,” by mingling something foreign to any
substance. We have laws against the adulteration of
coffee, tea, tobacco, snuff, wine, beer, bread, wax,
hairpowder, &c.
Adulteration of coin, properly imports the making
or casting of a wrong metal, or with too base or too
much alloy.
Adulterations of coins are effected divers ways: as,
by forging another stamp or inscription •, by mixing
impure metals with the gold or silver : most properly,
by making use of a wrong metal, or an undue alloy,
or too great an admixture of the baser metals with
gold or silver. Counterfeiting the stamp, or clipping
and lessening the weight, do not so properly come
under the denomination of adulterating. Evelyn gives
rules and methods both of adulterating and detecting
adulterated metals, &c.—Adulterating is somewhat less
extensive than debasing, which includes diminishing,
clipping, &c.
To adulterate or debase the current coin, is a capi¬
tal crime in all nations.—The ancients punished it with
great severity : among the Egyptians both hands were
cut off: and by the civil law, the offender was thrown
to wild beasts. The emperor Tacitus enacted, That
counterfeiting the coin should be capital; and under
Constantine it was made treason, as it is also among
us. The adulterating of gems is a curious art, and
the methods of detecting it no less useful. Nichols
‘Lapid. p. 18.
ADULTERINE, in the Civil Law, is particularly
applied to a child issued from an adulterous amour or
commerce. Adulterine children are more odious than
the illegitimate offspring of single persons.—The Ro¬
man law even refuses them the title of natural children ;
as if nature disowned them. Adulterine children are
not easily dispensed with for admission to orders. Those
are not deemed adulterine, who are begotten of a wo¬
man openly married, through ignorance of a former
wife being alive. By a decree of the parliament ofAduitcrin
Paris, adulterine children are declared not legitimated Adulttr
by the subsequent marriage of the parties, even though '’“’“V"
a papal dispensation he had for such marriage, wherein
is a clause of legitimation.
Adulterine Marriages, in St Augustine’s sense,
denote second marriages, contracted after a divorce.
ADULTERY, an unlawful commerce between one
married person and another, or between a married and
unmarried person,
Punishments have been annexed to adultery in most
ages and nations, though of different degrees of seve¬
rity. In many it has been capital : in others venial,
and attended only with slight pecuniary mulcts. Some
of the penalties are serious, and even cruel ; others of
a jocose and humorous kind. Even contrary things
/have been enacted as punishments for adultery. By some
laws, the criminals are forbidden marrying together,
in case they became single ; by others, they are forbid¬
den to marry any besides each other j by some, they are
incapacitated from ever committing the like crime
again 3 by others, they are glutted with it till it be¬
comes downright nauseous.
Among the rich Greeks, adulterers were allowed to
redeem themselves by a pecuniary fine j the woman’s
father, in such cases, returned the dower he had receiv¬
ed from her husband, which some think was refunded
by the adulterer. Another punishment among those
people, was putting out the eyes of adulterers.
The Athenians had an extraordinary way of punish¬
ing adulterers, called practised
at least on the poorer sort who were not able to pay
the fines. This was an awkward sort of empalement,
performed by thrusting one of the largest radishes up
the anus of the adulterer, or, in defect thereof, a fish
with a large head, called mugil, “ mullet.” Alcaeus is
said to have died this way, though it is doubted whe¬
ther the punishment was reputed mortal. Juvenal and
Catullus speak of this custom as received also among
the Romans, though not authorized by an express law
as it was among the Greeks.
There are various conjectures concerning the ancient
punishment of adultery among the Romans. Some
will have it to have been made capital by a law of Ro¬
mulus, and again by the twelve tables. Others, that
it was first made capital by Augustus ; and others, not
before the emperor Constantine. The truth is, the pu¬
nishment in the early days was very various, much be¬
ing left to the discretion of the husband and parents of
the adulterous wife, who exercised it differently, rather
with the silence and countenance of the magistrate than
any formal authority from him. Thus we are told, the
wife’s father was allowed to kill both parties, when
caught in the fact, provided he did it immediately, kill¬
ed both together, and as it were with one blow. The
same power ordinarily was not indulged the husband,
except the crime were committed with some mean or
infamous person ; though, in other cases, if his rage
carried him to put them to death, he was not punished
as a murderer. On many occasions, however, revenge
was not carried so far ; but mutilating, castrating, cut¬
ting off the ears, noses, &c. served the turn. The pu¬
nishment allotted by the lex Julia, was not, as many
have imagined, death j but rather banishment, or de¬
portation, being interdicted fire and water : though
Octaviu*
A D U C 199 1 A D U
doltery. Octavius appears, in several instances, to have gone
beyond his own law, and to have put adulterers to
death. Under Macrinus, many were burnt at a stake.
Constantine first by law made the crime capital. Un¬
der Constantius and Constans, adulterers were burnt, or
sewed in sacks and thrown into the sea. Under Leo
and Marcian, the penalty was abated to perpetual ba¬
nishment, or cutting off the nose. Under Justinian, a
farther mitigation was granted, at least in favour of the
wife, who was only to be scourged, lose her dower, and
be shut up in a monastery j after two years, the hus¬
band was at liberty to take her back again ; if he re¬
fused, she was shaven, and made a nun for life : But it
still remained death in the husband. The reason al¬
leged for this difference is, that the woman is the weak¬
er vessel. Matthseus declaims against the empress
Theodora, who is supposed to have been the cause of
this law, as well as of others procured in favour of that
sex from the emperor.
Under Theodosius, women convicted of this crime
were punished after a very singular manner, viz. by a
public constupration; being locked up in a narrow
cell, and forced to admit to their embraces all the men
that would ofl’er themselves. To this end, the gallants
were to dress themselves on purpose, having several lit¬
tle bells fastened to their clothes, the tinkling of which
gave notice to those without of every motion. This
custom was again abolished by the same prince.
By the Jewish law, adultery was punished by death
in both parties, where they were both married, or on¬
ly the woman. The Jews had a particular method of
trying, or rather purging, an adulteress, or a woman
suspected of the crime, by making her drink the bit¬
ter waters of jealousy j which, if she were guilty, made
her swell.
Amongst the Mingrelians, according to Chardin,
adultery is punished with the forfeiture of a hog, which
is usually eaten in good friendship between the gallant,
the adulteress, and the cuckold. In some parts of the
Indies, it is said any man’s wife is permitted to pro¬
stitute herself to him who will give an elephant for the
use of her ; and it is reputed no small glory to her to
have been rated so high. Adultery is said to be so
frequent in Ceylon, that not a woman but practises it,
notwithstanding its being punishable with death. A-
mong the Japanese, and divers other nations, adultery
is only penal in the woman. Among the Abyssinians,
the crime of the husband is said to be only punished on
the innocent wife. In the Marian islands, on the con¬
trary, the woman is not punishable for adultery j but
if the man go astray he pays severely: the wife and
her relations waste his lands, turn him out of his house,
8cc. Among the Chinese, there is reason to conclude
that adultery is not capital ; for it is said that fond pa¬
rents will make a contract with their daughters future
husbands to allow them the indulgence of a gallant.
In Spain, they punished adultery in men by cutting
off that part which had been the instrument of the
crime. In Poland, before Christianity was established,
they punished adultery and fornication in a very parti¬
cular manner: the criminal they carried to the mar¬
ket-place, and there fastened him by the testicles with
a nail j laying a razor within his reach, and leaving
him under a necessity, either of doing justice upon
himself, or of perishing in that condition.
The Saxons formerly burnt the adulteress, and over
her ashes erected a gibbet, whereon the adulterer was
hanged. In this kingdom, likewise, adultery, by the
ancient laws, was severely punished. King Edmund
the Saxon ordered adultery to be punished in the same
manner as homicide ; and Canute the Dane ordered
that a man who committed adultery should be banish¬
ed, and that the woman should have her nose and ears
cut off. In the time of Henry I. it was punished with
the Joss of eyes and genitals.
In Britain, adultery is reckoned a spiritual offence,
that is, cognizable by the spiritual courts, where it is
punished by fine and penance. The common law takes
no farther notice of it, than to allow the party griev¬
ed an action and damages. This practice is often cen¬
sured by foreigners, as making too light of a crime
the bad consequences of which, public as well as pril
vate, are so great. It has been answered, that per¬
haps this penalty, by civil action, is more wisely cal¬
culated to prevent the frequency of the offence, which
ought to be the end of all laws, than a severer punish¬
ment. He that by a judgement of law is, according
to circumstances, stripped of great part of his fortune,
thrown into prison till he can pay it, or forced to fly
his country, will, no doubt, in most cases, own that he
pays dearly for his amusement.
As to the moral turpitude of this offence, some have
vainly endeavoured to deny or explain it away by va¬
rious arguments, and even by an appeal to Scripture.
On the part of the man who solicits the chastity of a
married woman, it certainly includes the crime of Se¬
duction, and is attended with mischief still more
complicated and extensive : It creates a new sufferer,
the injured husband, upon whose simplicity and affec¬
tion is inflicted a wound the most painful and incura¬
ble that human nature knows. The infidelity of the
woman is aggravated by cruelty to her children, who
are generally involved in their parents shame, and al¬
ways made unhappy by their quarrel.
It has been argued, that these consequences ought
less to be attributed to the crime than to the discovery.
But, in the first place, the crime could not he disco¬
vered unless it were committed, and the commission is
never secure from discovery. 2dly, If adulterous con¬
nections were allowable whenever the parties could
hope to escape detection, which is the conclusion to
which this argument leads, the husband would be left
no other security for his wife’s chastity, than in her
want of opportunity or temptation ; which would pro¬
bably deter most men from marrying j or render mar¬
riage a state of continual jealousy and alarm to the hus¬
band, which would end in the slavery and confinement
of the wife.
The marriage vow is “ witnessed before God,” and
accompanied with circumstances of solemnity and reli¬
gion which approach to the nature of an oath. The
married offender, therefore, incurs a crime little short
of perjury, and the seduction of a married woman is
little less than subornation of perjury i*—and this guilt
is independent of the discovery.
But the usual apology for adultery is the prior trans¬
gression of the other party j and so far indeed, as the
bad effects of adultery are anticipated by the conduct
of the husband or wife who offends first, the guilt of
the second offender is extenuated. But this can never
amount
Adultery.
 V—J
Adultery.
A D U [ 200 ]
amount to a justification ; unless it could be shown that subject
the obligation of the marriage vow depends upon the
condition of reciprocal fidelity ; a construction which
appears founded neither in expediency, nor in the terms
of the vow, nor in the design of the legislature which
prescribed the marriage rite. The way of considering
the offence upon the footing of provocation and retalia¬
tion, is a childish trifling with words.
“ Thou shalt not commit adultery,” was an inter¬
dict delivered by God himself; yet Scripture has been
adduced as giving countenance to the crime. As Christ
told the woman taken in adultery, “ Neither do 1 con¬
demn thee?' we must believe, it is said, that he deemed
her conduct either not criminal, or at least not a crime
of the heinous nature we represent it to be. But from
a more attentive examination of the case, it will be
evident that nothing can be concluded from it favour¬
able to such an opinion. The transaction is thus re-
* Jo7ira’$lated * : ‘ Early in the morning Jesus came again in-
Gospel, « to t|ie temple, and all the people came unto him*,
chap. vm. i an(l he sat (lown an(l taUght them. And the Scribes
* and Pharisees brought unto him a woman taken in
* adultery 5 and when they had set her in the midst,
« they say unto him, Master, this woman was taken
4 in adultery in the very act. Now Moses in the law
4 commanded us that such should be stoned, but what
4 sayest thou ? This they said, tempting him, that they
4 might have to accuse him. But Jesus stooped down,
4 and with his finger wrote on the ground, as though
4 he heard them not. So when they continued asking
4 him, he lifted up himself, and said unto them, He
4 that is without sin amongst you, let him first cast a
4 stone at her 5 and again he stooped down and wrote
4 on the ground : and they which heard it, being con-
4 victed by their own conscience, went out one by one,
4 beginning at the eldest, even unto the last 5 and Je-
4 sus was left alone, and the woman standing in the
4 midst. When Jesus had lifted up himself, and saw
4 none but the woman, he said unto her, Woman,
4 where are those thine accusers! Hath no man con-
4 demned thee ? She said, No man, Lord : and Jesus
4 said unto her, Neither do I condemn thee; go and sin
4 no more.’
4 This they said, tempting him, that they might
4 have to accuse him j1 that is, to draw him into an ex¬
ercise of judicial authority, that they might have to ac¬
cuse him before the Roman governor of usurping or in¬
termeddling with the civil government.
Patty's 44 This was their design j and Christ’s behaviour
Moral and throughout the whole aff air proceeded from a know-
Political ]e(jge Qf tjjjg design, and a determination to defeat it.
^g^^'He gives them at first a cold and sullen reception, well
cditt 4I0. suited to the insidious intention with which they came :
4 he stooped down, and with his finger wrote on the
4 ground as though he heard them not.’ 4 When they
4 continued2L&\ng him,’ when they teased him to speak,
he dismissed them with a rebuke, which the imperti¬
nent malice of their errand, as well as the secret cha¬
racter of many of them, deserved : 4 he that is with-
4 out sin (that is, this sin) among you, let him first
4 cast a stone at her.’ This had its effect. Stung
with the reproof, and disappointed of their aim, they
stole away one by one, and left Jesus and the woman
alone. And then follows the conversation, which is
the part of the narrative most material to our present
A D U
4 Jesus saith unto her, Woman, where are Adultery
4 those thine accusers ? Hath no man condemned thee ^v—
4 She said, No man, Lord. And Jesus said unto her,
4 Neither do I condemn thee \ go and sin no more.’
Now, when Christ asked the woman, 4 Hath no man
4 condemned thee ?’ he certainly spoke, and was under¬
stood by the woman to speak, of a legal and judicial
condemnation j otherwise her answer,4 No man, Lord,’
was not true. In every other sense of condemnation,
as blame, censure, reproof, private judgment, and the
like, many had condemned her 5 all those, indeed, who
brought her to Jesus. If then a judicial sentence was
what Christ meant by condemning in the question, the
common use of language requires us to suppose that
he meant the same in his reply 4 Neither do I con-
4 demn thee i. e. I pretend to no judicial character
or authority over thee; it is no office or business of
mine to pronounce or execute the sentence of the law.
When Christ adds, 4 Go and sin no more,’ he in effect
tells her that she had sinned already 5 but as to the
degree or quality of the sin, or Christ’s opinion con¬
cerning it, nothing is declared, or can be inferred, ei¬
ther way.”
It has been controverted, whether adultery may be
lawfully committed in war, with the enemies wives ?
The answer is in the negative, and the authorized prac¬
tice of civilized nations is agreeable to this. It has
also been a famous question, whether it be lawful for
a woman to commit adultery with the consent of her
husband, and for the procuring some great good to
him ? St Austin apparently allows of it 5 at least does
not condemn it *. * BeSem
It has likewise been a dispute, whether it be lawful T)om. in
for one of the parties married to commit adultery with ^
the consent of the other, for the sake of having chil- ^
dren ? Of which we have instances in Abraham, who, civ. Dei,
on this account, conversed with Hagar j and likewise lib. xvi.
among the Greeks and Romans. Pollman, a GermancaP* 2S>
professor, has a dissertation on the husband’s right to
alienate his wife’s body to another’s use.
It is much disputed, whether adultery dissolves the
bond of matrimony, and be a sufficient cause of di¬
vorce, so that the parties may marry again. This was
allowed in the ancient church, and is still continued in
the Greek, as well as the Lutheran and Calvinist
churches. Romanists, however, disallow of it, and the
council of Trent even anathematized those who main¬
tain it j though the canon of anathematization was
mitigated in deference to the republic of Venice, in
some of whose dominions, as Zant, Cephalonia, &c.
the contrary usage obtains. The ecclesiastical courts
in England so far agree with the Papists, that they
only grant a divorce a mensa et thoro, in case of adul¬
tery j so that a complete divorce to enable the parties
to marry again, cannot be had without an act of par¬
liament.
Adultery is also used in ancient customs, for the
punishment or fine imposed for that offence, or the
privilege of prosecuting for it. In which sense adul-
tcrium amounts to the same with what the Saxons call
legerwita.
Adultery is sometimes used in a more extensive
sense, for any species of impurity or crime against
the virtue of chastity $ and in this sense divines under¬
stand the seventh commandment.
Adultery .
A D V
dultery, Adultery is also used, especially in Scripture, for
dvoeate. idolatry, or departing from the true God to the worship
-■ v * of a false one.
' * Adultery is also used, in ecclesiastical writers, for
a person’s invading or intruding into a bishopric du¬
ring the former bishop’s life. The reason of the ap¬
pellation is, that a bishop is supposed to contract a
kind of spiritual marriage with his church. The trans¬
lation of a bishop from one see to another was also re¬
puted a species of adultery 5 on the supposition of its
being a kind of second marriage, which, in those days,
was esteemed a degree of adultery. This conclusion was
founded on the text of St Paul, Let a bishop be the hus¬
band of one wife, by a forced construction of church for
wife, and of bishop for husband. (Du Cange).
Adultery is also used by ancient naturalists, for the
act of ingrafting one plant upon another. In which
sense, Pliny speaks of the adulteries of trees, arborum
adulteria, which he represents as contrary to nature,
and a piece of luxury or needless refinement.
ADVOCATE, among the Romans, a person skill¬
ed in their law, who undertook the defence of causes at
the bar. The Roman advocates answered to one part
of the office of a barrister in England, viz. the pleading
part j for they never gave counsel, that being the busi¬
ness of the jurisconsults.
The Romans, in the first ages of their state, held
the profession of an advocate in great honour ; and
the seats of their bar were crowded with senators and
consuls ; they, whose voices commanded the people,
thinking it an honour to be employed in defending
them. They were styled comites, honorati, clarissimi,
and even patroni; as if their clients were not less 0-
hliged to them than freed men to their masters. The
bar was not at that time venal. Those who aspired
to honours and offices took this way of gaining an in¬
terest in the people, and always pleaded gt'atis. But
no sooner were luxury and corruption introduced into
the commonwealth, than the bar became a sharer in
them. Then it was that the senators let out their
voices for pay, and zeal and eloquence were sold to
the highest bidder. To put a stop to this abuse, the
tribune Cincius procured a law to be passed, called from
him Lex Cincia, whereby the advocates were forbid
to take any money of their clients. It had before this
been prohibited the advocates to take any presents or
gratuities for their pleading. The emperor Augustus
added a penalty to it: notwithstanding which, the ad¬
vocates played their part so well, that the emperor
Claudius thought it an extraordinary circumstance,
when he obliged them not to take above eight great
sesterces, which are equivalent to about 64k sterling,
for pleading each cause.
Advocate is still used in countries and courts where
the civil law obtains, for those who plead and defend
the causes of clients trusted to them.
Advocate of a city, in the German polity, a ma¬
gistrate appointed in the emperor’s name to administer
justice.
Advocate is more particularly used in church hi¬
story, for a person appointed to defend the rights and
revenues of a church or religious house. The word
advocatus or advowee, is still retained for what we usu¬
ally call the patron, or he who has the advowson, or
right of presentation in his own name.
Vol. I. Part I. f
A D V
Consistorial Advocates; officers of the consistory at Advocate.
Rome who plead in all oppositions to the disposal of { ■■ y—:~l
benefices in that court: they are ten in number.
Elective Advocates, those chosen by the abbot,
bishop, or chapter j a particular license being had from
the king or prince for that purpose. The elections were
originally made in the presence of the count of the pro¬
vince.
Feudal Advocates. These were of the military kind,
who, to make them more zealous for the interest of the
church, had lands granted them in fee, which they
held of the church, and did homage, and took an oath
of fidelity to the bishop or abbot. These were to lead
the vassals of the church to war, not only in private
quarrels of the church itself, but in military expeditions
for the king’s service, in which they were the standard-
bearers of their churches.
Fiscal Advocate, fisci advocatus, in Roman antiqui¬
ty, an officer of state under the Roman emperors, who
pleaded in all causes wherein the jiscus, or private trea¬
sury, was concerned.
Juridical Advocates, in the middle age, were those
who from attending causes in the court of the comes,
or count of the province, became judges themselves,
and held courts of their vassals thrice a-year, under the
name of the tma placita generalia. In consideration
of this further service, they had a particular allowance
of one-third part of all fines, or mulcts, imposed on de¬
faulters, &c. besides a proportion of diet for themselves
and servants.
Matricular Advocates, were the advocates of the
mother or cathedral churches.
Military Advocates, those appointed for the de¬
fence of the church, rather by arms and authority than
by pleading and eloquence. These were introduced
in the times of confusion, when every person was obli¬
ged to maintain his own property by force j bishops
and abbots not being permitted to bear arms, and the
scholastic or gowned advocates being equally unac¬
quainted with them, recourse was had to knights, no¬
blemen, soldiers, or even to princes.
Nominative Advocates, those appointed by a king
or pope. Sometimes the churches petitioned kings, &e.
to appoint them an advocate : at other times this was
done of their own accord. By some regulations, no
person was capable of being elected advocate, unless he
had an estate in land in the same county.
Regular Advocates, those duly formed and qualified
for their profession, by a proper course of study, the re¬
quisite oath, subscription, license, &c.
Subordinate Advocates, those appointed by other su¬
perior ones, acting under them, and accountable to them.
There are various reasons for the creation of these sub¬
ordinate advocates ; as, the superior quality of the prin¬
cipal advocate, his being detained in war, or being in¬
volved in other affairs ; but chiefly the too great di¬
stance of some of the church lands, and their lying in
the dominions of foreign princes.
Supreme Sovereign Advocates, were those who
had the authority in chief j but acted by deputies 01*
subordinate advocates. These were called also princi¬
pal, greater, and sometimes general advocates. Such
in many cases were kings, &c. when either they had
been chosen advocates, or became such by being
founders or endowers of churches. Princes had also
C c another
[ 201 ]
A D V [
another title to advocateship, some of them pretending
to be advocati nati of the churches within their domi¬
nions.
Advocates, in the English courts, are more gene¬
rally called counsel. See Counsel.
Faculty of Advocates, in Scotland, a respectable
body of lawyers, who plead in all causes before the
courts of session, justiciary, and exchequer. They are
also entitled to plead in the house of peers, and other
supreme courts in England.
In the year 1660, the faculty founded a library
upon a very extensive plan, suggested by that learned
and eminent lawyer Sir George Mackenzie of Rose-
haugb, advocate to King Charles II. and King James
VII. who enriched it with many valuable books. It
has been daily increasing since that time, and now con¬
tains not only- the best collection of law books in Eu¬
rope, but a very large and select collection of books in
all subjects. Besides, this library contains a great
number of original manuscripts, and a vast vaiicty of
Jewish, Grecian, Roman, Scots, and English coins and
medals.
A candidate for the office of an advocate undergoes
three several trials : Tfhe first is in Latin, upon the ci¬
vil law and Greek and Roman antiquities the second,
in English, upon the municipal law of Scotland ; and,
in the third, he is obliged to defend a Latin thesis,
which is impugned by three members of the faculty.
Immediately before putting on the gown, the candidate
makes a short Latin speech to the lords, and then takes
the oaths to the government and de fideh.
The faculty at present consists of above 200 mem¬
bers. As an advocate or lawyer is esteemed the gen-
teelest profession in Scotland, many gentlemen of for¬
tune take the degree of advocate, without having any
intention of practising at the bar. Jhis circumstance
greatly increases their number, gives dignity to the pro¬
fession, and enriches their library and public fund. It
is from this respectable body that all vacancies on the
bench are generally supplied.
Lord Advocate, or King's Advocate, one of the
eight great officers of state in Scotland, who as such
sat in parliament without election. Lie is the princi¬
pal crown lawyer in Scotland. Mis business is to act
as a public prosecutor, and to plead in all causes that
concern the crown ■, but particularly in such as are of
a criminal nature. The office of king’s advocate is
not very ancient: It seems to have been established
about the beginning of the 16th century. Originally
he had no power to prosecute crimes without the con¬
currence of a private party; but, in the year 1597*
he was empowered to prosecute crimes at his own in¬
stance. He has the privilege of pleading in court with
his hat on. This privilege was first granted to Sir
Thomas Hope; who having three sons lords of ses¬
sion, it was thought indecent that the father should
plead uncovered before the sons, who as judges sat co¬
vered.
Bill of ADVOCATION, in Scots Law, a writ¬
ing drawn up in the form of a petition; whereby a
party, in an action before an inferior court, applies to
the supreme court, or court of session, for calling the
action from the inferior court before itself.
Letters of Advocation, in Scots Law, the decree or
warrant of the court of session upon cognizance of the
202 ] A.D V
facts set forth in the bill, drawn up in the form of a
summons, and passing under the signet, discharging the
inferior judge and all others from further procedure in
the cause, and advocating it to itself.
ADVOWEE, in ancient customs and law books,
denotes the advocate of a church, religious house, or
the like. There were advowees of cathedrals, abbeys,
monasteries, &c. Thus, Charlemagne had the title
of advowee of St Peter’s ; King Hugh, of St Riquier :
and Bolandus mentions some letters of Pope Nicholas,
by which he constituted King Edward the Confessor,
and his successors, advowees of the monastery at West¬
minster, and of all the churches in England. These
advowees were the guardians, protectors, and admini¬
strators of the temporal concerns of the churches, &c.
and under their authority were passed all contracts
which related to them. It appears also, from the most
ancient charters, that the donations made to churches
were conferred on the persons of the advowees. They
always pleaded the causes of the churches in court,
and distributed justice for them, in the places under
their jurisdiction. They also commanded the forces
furnished by their monasteries, &c. for the war; and
even were their champions, and sometimes maintained
duels for them.
This office is said to have been first introduced in the
fourth century, in the time of Stillico; though the Be¬
nedictines do not fix its origin before the eighth cen¬
tury. By degrees, men of the first rank were brought
into it, as it was found necessary either to defend with
arms or to protect with power and authority. In some
monasteries they were only called conservators; but
these, without the name, had all the functions of ad¬
vowees. There were also sometimes several sub-ad¬
vowees, or sub advocates, in each monastery, who offi¬
ciated instead of the advowees themselves ; which, how¬
ever, proved the ruin of monasteries ; those inferior of¬
ficers running into great abuses.
Hence also, husbands, tutors, and every person in ge¬
neral, who took upon him the defence of another, were
denominated advowees, or advocates. Hence several
cities had their advowees ; which were established long
after the ecclesiastical ones, and doubtless from their
example. Thus we read in history of the advowees of
Augsburg, of Arras, &c.
The vidames assumed the quality of advowees ; and
hence it is, that several historians of the eighth century
confound the two functions together. Hence also it is,
that several secular lords in Germany bear mitres for
their crests, as having anciently been advowees of the
great churches.
Spelman distinguishes two kinds of ecclesiastical ad¬
vowees.—The one, of causes or processes, advocati-
causarum ; the other, of territory or lands, advocati soli.
The former were nominated by the king, and were
usually lawyers, who undertook to plead the causes of
the monasteries. The other, which still subsist, and
are sometimes called by their primitive name, advowees?
though more usuallywere hereditary ; as being
the founders and endowers of churches, &c. or their
heirs.
Women were sometimes advowees, advocatissce. And,
in effect, the canon law mentions some who had this
title, and who had the same right of presentation, &c.
in their churches which the advowees themselves had.
In
Adwcx
tion,
Advowe
A D U '[ 203 ] A E A
In a stab 25 Eclw. III. we meet with advowee para¬
mount for the highest patron ; that is, the king.
ADVOWSON, or Advowzen, in Common Laiv,
signifies a right to present to a vacant benefice. Ad-
vowson is so called, because the right of presenting to
the church was first gained by such as were founders,
benefactors, or maintainers of the church.
Though the nomination of fit persons to officiate in
every diocese was originally in the bishop, yet they
were content to let the founders of churches have the
nomination of the persons to the churches so founded,
reserving to themselves a right to judge of the fitness
of the persons nominated.
Advowsons formerly were most of them appendant
to manors, and the patrons were parochial barons :
the lordship of the manor and patronage of the church
were seldom in different hands, until advowsons were
given to religious houses. But of late times the lord-
ship of the manor and advowson of the church have
been divided.
Advowsons are presentative, collative, or donative:
presentative, where the patron presents or offers his
clerk to the bishop of the diocese, to be instituted in
his church 5 collative, where the benefice is given by
the bishop, as original patron thereof, or by means of a
right he has acquired by lapse ; donative, as where the
king or other patron does, by a single donation in writ¬
ing, put the clerk into possession, without presentation,
institution, or induction.
Sometimes, anciently, the patron had the sole nomi¬
nation of the prelate, abbot, or prior ; either by inve¬
stiture (7. e. delivery of a pastoral staff), or by direct
presentation to the diocesan ; and if a free election was
left to the religious, yet a conge ddelire, or license of
election, was first to be obtained of the patron, and the
person elected was confirmed by him. If the founder’s
family became extinct, the patronage of the convent
went to the lord of the manor. Unless the several col¬
leges in the universities be restrained in the number of
advowsons they may receive, it is argued they will in
time acquire such a stock as to frustrate the design of
their foundation (which is the education of youth), by
creating too quick a succession of fellows ; so that
there will not be in the colleges a sufficient number of
persons of competent age, knowledge, and experience,
to instruct and form the minds of the youth. In some
colleges the number of advowsons is said to be already
two-thirds, or more, of the number of fellows. It is
objected, on the other side, that the succession of fel¬
lows may be too slow as well as too quick; whereby
persons well qualified may be detained so long in col¬
leges as not to have strength or activity enough left for
the discharge of parochial functions.
Colleges holding more advowsons in number than a
moiety of the fellows, are not capable of purchasing
more. Grants of advowsons by Papists are void.
9 Geo. II. c. 36. § 5. 11 Geo. II. c. 17. § 5.
Advowsons are temporal inheritances and lay fees j
they may be granted by deed or will, and are assets in
the hands of heirs or executors. Presentations to ad¬
vowsons for money, or other reward, are void. 31 Eliz.
cap. 6.
In Scotland, this right is called patronage. See Pa¬
tronage.
ADUST, Adustus, among physicians, &c. is ap¬
plied to such humours as by long heat become of a hot
and fiery nature. Such is choler supposed to be. Me¬
lancholy is usually considered as black and adust bile.
Blood is said to be adust, when, by reason of some ex¬
traordinary heat, its more subtle parts are all evaporat¬
ed, leaving the grosser, with all the impurities therein,
half terrified.
AD7, in Natural History, a name given to the palm
tree of the island of St Thomas. It is a tall tree with
a thick, bare, upright stem, growing single on its root,
of a thin light timber, and full of juice. The head of
this tree shoots into a vast number of branches, which
being cut off, or an incision being made therein, afford
a great quantity of sweet juice, which fermenting sup¬
plies the place of wine among the Indians. The fruit
of this tree is called by the Portuguese caryoces and
canosse; and by the black natives, abanga. This
fruit is of the size and shape of a lemon } and contains
a kernel, which is good to eat. The fruit itself is eaten
roasted, and the raw kernels are often mixed with man-
dioc meal. These kernels are supposed very cordial.
An oil is also prepared from this fruit, which answers
the purpose of oil or butter. This oil is also used for
anointing stiff and contracted parts of the body.
ADYNAMIA, in Medicine, of # privative, and
^vvctpi? strength, want of power, debility, or weakness,
from sickness.
ADYNAMIiE, the second class of Dr Cullen’s no¬
sological arrangement, which includes those diseases in
which the involuntary motions, whether vital or natural,
are diminished.
Adust
AEaeus. *
ADYNAMON, among ancient physicians, a kind
of weak factitious wine, prepared from must boiled
down with waterto be given to patients to whom
genuine wine might be hurtful.
ADYTUM, in Pagan antiquity, the most retired
and sacred place of temples, into which none but the
priests were allowed to enter. The Sanctum Sanc¬
torum of the temple of Solomon was of the nature of
the pagan adytum, none but the high priest being ad¬
mitted into it, and he but once a-year.
ADZE, or Addice, a cutting tool of the axe kind ;
having its blade made thin and arching, and its edge
at right angles to the handle ; chiefly used for taking
oil' thin chips of timber or boards, and for paring away
certain irregularities which the axe cannot come at.
The adze is used by carpenters, but more by coopers,
as being convenient for cutting the hollow sides of
boards, &c. It is ground from a base on its inside to
its outer edge; so that, when it is blunt, they cannot con¬
veniently grind it without taking its helve out of the eye.
AE, or i£, a diphthong compounded of A and E.
Authors are by no means agreed as to the use of the
(E in English words. Some, out of regard to etymo¬
logy, insist on its being retained in all words, particu¬
larly technical ones, borrowed from the Greek and
Latin ; while others, from a consideration that it is no
proper diphthong in our language, its sound being no
other than that of the simple e, contend that it ought
to be entirely disused; and, in fact, the simple e has of
late been adopted instead of the Homan ce, as in the
word equator, &c.
7EACEA, in Grecian antiquity, solemn festivals and
games celebrated at AEgina, in honour of TEacus.
ABACUS, the son of Jupiter by iEgina. Wfcea
C c 2 the
A E D [ 204 ] AEG
JSacus the isle of JEgina was depopulated by a plague, his fa¬
ll ther, in compassion to his grief, changed all the ants
iEdile. Up0n Jt into men and women, who were called Myrvii-
',J” v ’ clones, from an ant. The foundation of the
fable is said to be, that when the country had been de¬
populated by pirates, who forced the few that remained
to take shelter in caves, iEacus encouraged them to
come out, and by commerce and industry recover what
they had lost. His character for justice was such, that,
in a time of universal drought, he was nominated by
the Delphic oracle to intercede for Greece, and his
prayer was answered. See the article ^Egina. The
Pagans also imagined that TEacus, on account of his
impartial justice, was chosen by Pluto one of the three
judges of the dead } and that it was his province to
judge the Europeans.
/EBUDiE, a name anciently given to the Western
islands of Scotland.
iEBURA, in Ancient Geography, a town of Spain,
in Estremadura, on the river Guadiana, to the west of
Merida j now called Talavera. W. Long. 7* I5*
N. Lat. 38. 40.
iECHMALOTARCHA, in Jewish antiquity, a
title given to the principal leader or governor of the
Hebrew captives residing in Chaldea, Assyria, and the
neighbouring countries. This magistrate was called
by the Jews, rosch-galath, i. e. the chief of the captivi¬
ty : but the above term, of like import in the Greek,
is that used by Origen and others who wrote in the
Greek tongue.
The Jewish writers assure us, that the cechmalotarchce
were only to be chosen out of the tribe ol Judah. The
eastern Jews had their princes of the captivity, as the
western Jews their patriarchs. - The Jews are still said
to have an cechmalotarcha at Babylon, but without the
authority of the ancient ones. (Basnage Hist. Jews,
and PrideauAs Connection).
iEClDIUM, in Botany. See Botany Index.
JECULANUM, in Ancient Geography, a town of
the Hirpini in Italy, at the foot of the Apennines, to
the east of Abellinum, contracted JEclanum, situated
between Beneventum and Tarentum. The inhabitants
are called JEculani by Pliny j and JEclanenses, in an
ancient inscription (Gruter). The town is now called
Fricento, (Cluverius), 43 miles east of Naples. E.Long.
15. 38. N. Lat. 41. 15.
iEDES, in Roman antiquity, besides its more ordi¬
nary signification of a house, likewise signified an infe¬
rior kind of temple, consecrated to some deity.
ZEDICULA, a term used to denote the inner part
of the temple, where the altar and statue of the deity
stood.
HiDILATE, the office of sedile, sometimes called
JPdiliiij. See the next article.
iEDILE {cedilis), in Roman antiquity, a magistrate
whose chief business was to superintend buildings of
all kinds, but more especially public ones, as temples,
aqueducts, bridges, &c. To the sediles likewise be¬
longed the care of the highways, public places, weights
and measures, &c. They also fixed the prices of pro¬
visions, took cognizance of debauches, punished lewd
women, and such persons as frequented gaming houses.
The custody of the plebiscita, or orders of the people,
was likewise committed to them. They had the in¬
spection of comedies and other pieces of wit j and were
3
obliged to exhibit magnificent games to the people, at
their own expence, whereby many of them were ruin- [|
ed. To them also belonged the custody of the ple-^gagropi-
biscita, and the censure and examination of books., ^
They had the power, on certain occasions, of issuing
edicts $ and, by degrees, they procured to themselves
a considerable jurisdiction, the cognizance of various
causes, &c. This office ruined numbers by its expen¬
siveness •, so that, in Augustus’s time, even many sena¬
tors declined it on that account.
All these functions which rendered the aediles so con¬
siderable belonged at first to the eediles of the people,
cedilespleheii, or minores : these were only two in num¬
ber, and were first created in the same year as the tri¬
bunes ; for the tribunes, finding themselves oppressed
with the multiplicity of affairs, demanded of the se¬
nate to have officers, to whom they might intrust
matters of less importance 5 and accordingly two oediles
were ci'eated 5 and hence it was that the oediles were
elected every year at the same assembly as the tribunes.
But these plebeian sediles having refused, on a signal
occasion, to treat the people with shows, as pleading
themselves unable to support the expence thereof, the
patricians made an offer to do it, provided they would
admit them to the honours of the cedilate. On this
occasion there were two new sediles created, of the
number of the patricians, in the year of Rome 388 j
they were called cediles curules, or majores ; as having
a right to sit on a curule chair, enriched with ivory,
when they gave audience ; whereas the plebeian rediles
only sat on benches.—Besides that the curule sediles
shared all the ordinary functions with the plebeian, their
chief employ was, to procure the celebration of the
grand Roman games, and to exhibit comedies, shows
of gladiators, &c. to the people ; and they were also
appointed judges in all cases relating to the selling or
exchanging estates.
To ease these four first aediles, Caesar created a new
kind, called cediles cereales, as being deputed chiefly to
take care of the corn, which was caWed donum Cereris ;
for the Heathens honoured Ceres as the goddess who
presided over corn, and attributed to her the invention
of agriculture. These aediles cereales were also taken
out. of the order of patricians. In the municipal ci¬
ties there were aediles, and with the same authority as
at Rome.
We also read of an cedilis alimentarius, expressed in
abbreviature by IBdil. alim. . whose business seems to
have been to provide diet for those who were maintain¬
ed at the public charge, though others assign him a
different office.—In an ancient inscription we also meet
with cedile of the camp, cedilis castrorum.
JEDILITIUM Edictum, among the Romans, was
that whereby a remedy was given to a buyer in case a
vicious or unsound beast, or slave, was sold to him. It
was called cedilitium, because the preventing of frauds
in sales and contracts belonged especially to the curule
aediles.
iEDITUUS, in Roman antiquity, an officer belong¬
ing to the temple, who had the charge of the offerings,
treasure, and sacred utensils. The female deities had
a female officer of this kind called JEditua.
iEGAGROPILA, a ball composed of hair, gene¬
rated in the stomach of the chamois goat, which is si¬
milar to those found iu cows, hogs, &c. There is
another,
AEG [ 205 ] AEG
Ic^ajrro- anotlier species of ball found in some animals, particu*
pila lady horses, which is a calculous concretion.
11 or in the name
, of JEdessa, so called from the following adventure :
Caranus, the first king of Macedonia, being ordered by
the oracle to seek out a settlement in Macedonia, under
the conduct of a flock of goats, surprised the town of
iEdessa, during a thick fog and rainy weather, in fol¬
lowing the goats that fled from the rain j which goats
ever after, in all his military expeditions, he caused to
precede his standard •, and in memory of this he called
iEdessa JEgea, and his people JEgeadt?. And hence
probably, in the prophet Daniel, the he-goat is the sym¬
bol of the king of Macedon.
./EGExlN SEA, in Ancient Geography, now the
Archipelago, a part of the Mediterranean, separating
Europe from Asia j washing, on the one hand, Greece
and Macedonia j on the other, Caria and Ionia. The
origin of the name is greatly disputed. Festus ad¬
vances three opinions: one, that it is so called from the
many islands therein, at a distance appearing like so
many goats: another, because ^Elgea queen of the
Amazons perished in it : a third opinion is, because
iEgeus, the father of Theseus, threw himself headlong
into it.
iEGEUS, in fabulous history, was king of Athens,
and the father of Theseus. The Athenians having
basely killed the son of Minos king of Crete, for carry¬
ing away the prize from them, Minos made war upon
the Athenians 5 and being victorious, imposed this se¬
vere condition on iEgeus, that he should annually send
into Crete seven of the noblest of the Athenian youths,
chosen by lot, to be devoured by tbe Minotaur. On
the fourth year of this tribute, the choice fell on The¬
seus ; or, as others sav, he himself entreated to be sent.
The king, at his son’s departure, gave orders, that as
the ship sailed with black sails, it should return with the
same in case he perished j but, if he became victorious,
be should change them into white. When Theseus re¬
turned to Crete, after killing the Minotaur, and for¬
got to change the sails in token of his victory, accord¬
ing to the agreement with his father j the latter, who
watched the I’eturn of the vessel, supposing by the black
sails that his son was dead, cast himself headlong into
the sea, which afterwards obtained the name of the
JEgean sea. The Athenians decreed iEgeus divine
honours 5 and sacrificed to him as a marine deity, the
adopted son of Neptune.
iEGIAS, among physicians, a white speck on the
pupil of the eye, which occasions a dimness of sight.
iEGLDA, (Pliny)-, now Capo cP Istria, the principal
town on the north of the territory of Istria, situated in
a little island, joined to the land by a bridge. In an in¬
scription, (Gruter), it is called JEgidis Insula. E.
Long. 14. 20. N. Lat. 45. 50. It was afterwards
called Justinopolis, after the emperor Justinus.
iEGILOPS, the name of a tumour in the great
angle of the eye j either with, or without, an inflam¬
mation. The word is compounded of goat, and
aip eye ; as goats are supposed extremely liable to this
distemper.
Authors frequently use the words cegilops, anchilops,
and fistula lachrymalis, promiscuously; but the more ac¬
curate, after ^Egineta, make a diiference.—-The tu¬
mour, before it becomes ulcerous, is properly called
anchilops; and, after it is got into the lachrymal pas- JEgilops
sages, and has rendered the os lacbrymale carious, fis- ||
tula lachrymalis. ^gina.
If the tegilops be accompanied with an inflamma- ^
tion, it is supposed to take its rise from the abundance
of blood which a plethoric habit discharges on the cor¬
ner of the eye. If it be without an inflammation, it
is supposed to proceed from a viscous pituitous humour,
thrown upon this part.
The method of cure is the same as that of the oph¬
thalmia. But before it has reached the lachrymal pas¬
sages, it is managed like other ulcers. If the regilops
be neglected, it bursts, and degenerates into a fistula,
which eats into the bone.
AEgilops, in Botany. See Botany Index.
-^EGIMURUS, in Ancient Geography, an island in
the bay of Carthage, about 30 miles distant from that
city, (Livy) ; now the Goletta : This island being after¬
wards sunk in the sea, two of its rocks remained above
water, which were called Arce, and mentioned by Vir¬
gil, because the Romans and Carthaginians entered in¬
to an agreement or league to limit their respective
boundaries by these rocks.
iEGINA, in fabulous history, the daughter of
iEsopus, king of Boeotia, was beloved by Jupiter, who
debauched her in the similitude of a lambent flame,
and then carried her from Epidaurus to a desert island
called Oenope, which afterwards obtained her own
name.
/Egina, in Ancient Geography, an island in the Sa¬
ronic bay, or bay of Engia, 20 miles distant from the
Piraeus, formerly vying with Athens for naval power,
and at the sea-fight of Salamis disputing the palm of
victory with the Athenians. It was the country and
kingdom of tEhcus, who called it AEgina from his mo¬
ther’s name, it being before called Oenopia, (Ovid.)
The inhabitants were called JEginetce, and JEginenses.
The Greeks had a common temple dedicated to Jupi¬
ter in iEgina. The .ZEginetae applied to commerce ;
and were the first who coined money called Wopirpec,
Aiyaiciiov ", hence AEgineticum ces, formerly in great re¬
pute. The inhabitants were called Myrmidones, or a
nation of ants, from their great application to agricul¬
ture. See yEacus.
The island was surrounded by Attica, the territory
of Megara, and the Peloponnesus, each distant about
100 stadia, or 12 miles and a half. In circumference
it was reckoned 180 stadia, or 22 miles and a half. It
lies in the Sinus Saronicus, called also from this island
the Gulf of Egina.
It is now called AEyina or AEgina, the g soft and the i
short. The temple above mentioned is situated upon
the summit of a mountain called Panhellenius, at some
distance from the shore. The gEginetans affirmed it
was erected by ./Eacus ; in whose time Greece being
terribly oppressed by drought, the Delphic oracle was
consulted ; and the response was, That Jupiter must be
rendered propitious by /Eacus. The cities entreated
him to be their mediator : He sacrificed and prayed to
Jupiter Panhellenius, and procured rain.
The temple was of the Doric order, and had six co¬
lumns in front. Twenty-one of the exterior columns
are yet standing, with two in the front of the pronaos
and of the posticum, and five of the number which
formed the ranges of tbe cell. The entablature, except
the.
AEG r 206 ] AEG
iEgirm. the architrave, is fallen. The stone is of a light brown-
i-—v*-— ish colour, much eaten in many places, and indicating
a very great age. Some of the columns have been in¬
jured by boring to their centres for the metal. In se¬
veral, the junction of the parts is so exact, that each
seems to consist of one piece. This ruin Mr Chandler
considers as scarcely to be paralleled in its claim to a
remote antiquity. The situation on a lonely mountain,
at a distance from the sea, has preserved it from total
demolition, amid all the changes and accidents of nu¬
merous centuries.
Near the shore is a barrow, raised, it is related, for
Phocus upon the following occasion. Telamon and
Peleus, sons of iPacus, challenged their half brother
Phocus to contend in the Pentathlum. In throwing
the stone, which served as a quoit, Peleus hit Phocus,
who was killed j when both of them,fled. Afterwards
Telamon sent a herald to assert his innocence. iEacus
would not suffer him to land, or to apologize, except
from the vessel *, or, if he chose rather, from a heap cast
up in the water. Telamon, entering the private port
by night, raised a barrow, as a token, it is likely, of
a pious regard for the deceased. He was afterwards
condemned, as not free from guilt •, and sailed away
again to Salamis. The barrow in the second century,
when seen by Pausanias, was surrounded with a fence,
and had on it a rough stone. The terror of some
dreadful judgment to be inflicted from heaven had pre¬
served it entire and unaltered to his time j and in a
country depopulated and neglected, it may still endure
for many ages.
The soil of this island is, as described by Strabo,
very stony, especially the bottoms, but in some places
not unfertile in grain. Besides corn, it produces olives,
grapes, and almonds 5 and abounds in pigeons and par¬
tridges. It has been related, that the ./Eginetans an¬
nually wage war with the feathered race, carefully
collecting or breaking their eggs, to prevent their mul¬
tiplying, and in consequence a yearly famine. They
have no hares, foxes, or wolves. The rivers in summer*
are all dry. The waiwode or governor farms the re¬
venue of the Grand Signior for 12 purses, of 6000 pi¬
astres. About half this sum is repaid yearly by the ea-
ratch-money, or poll tax.
JEgina, the capital of the above island. Its site has
heen long forsaken. Instead of the temples mention¬
ed by Pausanias, there are 13 lonely churches, all
very mean $ and two Doric columns supporting their
architrave. These stand by the sea-side toward the
low cape ; and, it has been supposed, are a remnant
of a temple of Venus, which was situated by the port
principally frequented. The theatre, which is record¬
ed as worth seeing, resembled that of the Epidaurians
both in size and workmanship. It was not far from the
private port 5 the stadium, which, like that at Priene,
was constructed with only one side, being joined to it
behind, and each structure mutually sustaining and
propping the other. The w'alls belonging to the ports
and arsenal were of excellent masonry, and may be tra¬
ced to a considerable extent, above, or nearly even with
the water. At the entrance of the mole, on the left,
is a small chapel of St Nicholas j and opposite, a square
tower with steps before it, detached from which a bridge
was laid across, to be removed on any alarm. This
2
structure, which is mean, was erected by the Venetians,
while at war with the Turks in 1693.
iEGINETA, Paulus, a celebrated surgeon of the iEs
island of ^Egina, from whence he derived his name. I'T
According to Mr Le Clerc’s calculation, he lived in
the fourth century 5 but Abulpharagius the Arabian,
who is allowed to give the best account of those times,
places him with more probability in the seventh. His
knowledge in surgery was very great, and his works are
deservedly famous. Fabricius ab Aquapendente has
thought fit to transcribe him in a great variety of places.
Indeed the doctrine of Paulus YEgineta, together with
that of Celsus and Albvicasis, make up the whole text
of this author, tie is the first writer who takes notice
of the cathartic quality of rhubarb 5 and, according to
Dr Milward, is the first in all antiquity who deserves
the title of man-midwife.
jEGINHAHD, the celebrated secretary and sup¬
posed son-in-law of Charlemagne. He is said to have
been carried through the snow on the shoulders of the
affectionate and ingenious I mm a, to prevent his being
tracked from her apartments by the emperor her fa¬
ther : a story which the elegant pen of Addison has
copied and embellished from an old German chronicle,,
and inserted in the 3d volume of the Spectator.—This
happy lover (supposing the story to be true) seems to
have possessed a heart not unworthy of so enchanting a
mistress, and to have returned her affection with the
most faithful attachment; for there is a letter of zEgin-
hard’s still extant, lamenting the death of his wife,
which is written in the tenderest strain of connubial af¬
fliction*, it does, not, however, express that this lady was
the affectionate princess j and indeed some late critics
have proved that Imma was not the daughter of Char¬
lemagne.—But to return to our historian : He was a
native of Germany, and educated by the munificence
of his imperial master, of which he has left the most
grateful testimony in his preface to the life of that
monarch. JEginhard, after the loss of his lamented
wife, is supposed to have passed the remainder of his
days in religious retirement, and to have died soon af¬
ter the year 840. His life of Charlemagne, his annals
from 741 to 889, and his letters, are all inserted in
the 2d volume of Duchesne’s Scriptores Francorum.
There is an improved edition of this valuable histo¬
rian, with the annotations of Hermann Schmincke, in
qto, 1711.
YEGIPAN, in Heathen Mythology, a denomination
given to the god Pan, because he was represented with
the horns, legs, feet, &c. of a goat.
yEGIPHILA, Goat-friend, in Botany. See Bo¬
tany Index.
zEGIS, in the Ancient Mythology, a name given to
the shield or buckler of Jupiter and Pallas.
The goat Amalthea, which had suckled Jove, being
dead, that god is said to have covered his buckler with
the skin j whence the appellation cegis, from utyos,
she-goat. Jupiter, afterwards restored the animal to
life, covered it with a new skin, and placed it among
the stars. He made a present of his buckler to Mi¬
nerva : whence that goddess’s buckler is also called
cegis.
Minerva having killed the Gorgon Medusa, nailed
her head in the middle of the £egis, which henceforth
had
AEG
[ 207 ]
AEG
r . had the faculty of converting Into stone all those who
looked upon it; as Medusa herself had done during her
kopodi- life.
um. Others suppose the aegis not to have been a buckler,
"v but a cuirass, or breastplate ; and it is certain the ae¬
gis of Pallas, described by Virgil, JEn. lib. vii. ver.
435, must have been a cuirass 5 since that poet say-s ex¬
pressly, that Medusa’s head was on the breast of the
goddess. But the aegis of Jupiter, mentioned a little
higher, ver. 354, seems to have been a buckler : the
words
Cam scepe nigrantem
jEgida concuteret dextra,
are descriptive of a buckler j but not at all of a cuirass
or breastplate.
Servius makes the same distinction on the two pas¬
sages of Virgil } for on verse 354, he takes the aegis
for the buckler of Jupiter, made, as above mentioned,
of the skin of the goat Amalthea 5 and on verse 435,
he describes the aegis as the armour which covers the
breast, and which in speaking of men is called cui¬
rass, and eegis in speaking of the gods. Many authors
have overlooked these distinctions for want of going to
the sources.
iEGISTHUS, in ancient history, was the son of
Thyestes by his own daughter Pilopeia, who, to con¬
ceal her shame, exposed him in the woods ; some say
he was taken up by a shepherd, and suckled by a goat,
whence he was called JEgisthus. He seduced Clytem-
nestra the wife of Agamemnon, and lived with her dur¬
ing the siege of Troy. Afterwards with her assistance
he slew her husband, and reigned seven years in My-
cense. He was, together with Clytemnestra, slain by’
Orestes. Pompey used to call Julius Caesar JEgisthus,
on account of his having seduced his wife Mutia, whom
he afterwards put away, though he had three children
by her.
iEGITHALLUS, in Ancient Geography, a pro¬
montory and citadel of Sicily, between Hrepanum and
the Emporium ^Egistanum, afterwards called Acel-
lus; corruptly written JEgitharsos, in Ptolemy j situ¬
ated near Mount Eryx, and now called Capo di Santo
Teodor 0.
iEGIUM, in Ancient Geography, a town of Achaia
Propria, five miles from the place where Helice stood,
and famous for the council of the Acheans, which usu¬
ally met there on account either of the dignity or com¬
modious situation of the place. It was also famous for
the worship of OgotyuPtas Ziv;, Cojive?itional Jupiter,
and oiPanachcean Cei-es. The territory of JEgium was
watered by two rivers, viz. the Phoenix and Megani-
tes. The epithet is APgiensis. There is a coin in the
cabinet of the king of Prussia, with the inscription AITI,
and the figure of a tortoise, which is the symbol of Pe¬
loponnesus, and leaves no doubt as to the place where
it was struck.
iEGOBOLIUM, in antiquity, the sacrifice of a
goat offered to Cybele. The segobolium was an ex¬
piatory sacrifice, which bore a near resemblance to the
taurobolium and criobolium, and seems to have been
sometimes joined with them.
iEGOPODIUM, Small Wild Angelica, GoaI-
wort, Goatseoot. See Botany Index.
TEGOPRICON. See Botany Index, Kkc’hU
JEGOSPOTAMOS, in Ancient Geography, a river con,
in the Thracian Chersonesus, falling with a south-east ^e°*Pota'
course into the Hellespont, to the north of Sestos 5 also , nios' .
a town, station, or road for ships at its mouth. Here v
the Athenians, under Conon, through the fault of his
colleague Isocrates, received a signal overthrow from
the Lacedaemonians under Lysander, which was follow¬
ed by the taking of Athens, and put an end to the Pe¬
loponnesian war. The Athenian fleet having followed
the Lacedaemonians, anchored in the road, over against
the enemy, who lay before Lampsacus. The Helles¬
pont is not above two thousand paces broad in that
place. The two armies seeing themselves so near each
other, expected only to rest that day, and were in hopes
of coming to a battle on the next.
But Lysander had another design in his view. Pie
commanded the seamen and pilots to go on board their
galleys, as if they were in reality to fight the next
morning at break of day, to hold themselves in readi¬
ness, and to wait his orders with profound silence. He
commanded the land army in like manner to draw up
in order of battle upon the coast, and to wait the day
without noise. On the morrow, as soon as the sun was
risen, the Athenians began to row towards them with
their whole fleet in one line, and to bid them defiance.
Lysander, though his ships were ranged in order of
battle, with their heads towards the enemy, lay still
without making any movement. In the evening, when
the Athenians withdrew, he did not suffer his soldiers to
go ashore, till two or three galleys, which he had sent
out to observe them, were returned with advice that
they had seen the enemy land. The next day passed in
the same manner, as did the third and fourth. Such a
conduct, which argued reserve and apprehension, ex¬
tremely augmented the security and boldness of the
Athenians, and inspired them with an extreme contempt
for an army, which fear, in their sense, prevented from
showing themselves, and attempting any thing.
Whilst this passed, Alcibiades, who was near the
fleet, took horse, and came to the Athenian generals :
to whom he represented, that they kept upon a very
disadvantageous coast, where there were neither ports
nor cities in the neighbourhood j that they were ob¬
liged to bring their provisions from Sestos with great
danger and difficulty j and that they were very much
in the wrong to suffer the soldiers and mariners of
the fleet, as soon as they were ashore, to straggle and
disperse themselves at their own pleasure, whilst they
were faced in view by the enemy’s fleet, accustomed to
execute the orders of their general with the readiest
obedience, and upon the slightest signal. He offered
also to attack the enemy by land with a strong body of
Thracian troops, and to force them to a battle. The
generals, especially Tydeus and Menander, jealous of
their command, did not content themselves with refu¬
sing his offers, from the opinion, that if the event pro¬
ved unfortunate, the whole blame would fall on them,
and if favourable, that Alcibiades alone would have the
honour of it; but rejected also with insult his wise and
salutary counsel, as if a man in disgrace lost his sense
and abilities with the favour of the commonwealth.
Alcibiades withdrew. *
The fifth day- the Athenians presented themselves
again,
iEgospo la¬
mas
I!
iEgyptilla.
AEG [ 2c3 1 A E L
again, and ofl'ered battle; retiring in the evening ac¬
cording to custom with more insulting airs than the
davs before. Jjysander, as usual, detached some gal-
levs to observe them, with orders to return with the
utmost diligence when they saw the Athenians land¬
ed, and to put up a brazen buckler at each ship’s head
as soon as they reached the middle of the channel.
He in the mean time ran through the whole line in
his galley, exhorting the pilots and officers to hold
the seamen and soldiers in readiness to row and fight
on the first signal.
As soon as the bucklers were put up in the ships
heads, and the admiral galley had given the signal by
the sound of trumpet, the whole fleet set forward in
good order. The land army at the same time made
all possible haste to the top of the promontory to see
the battle. The strait that separates the two conti¬
nents in this place is about fifteen stadia, or three quar¬
ters of a league in breadth ; which space was presently
cleared through the activity and diligence of the row¬
ers. Conon the Athenian general was the first who
perceived from shore, that fleet advance in good order
to attack him; upon which he immediately cried out
for the troops to embark. In the height of sorrow and
trouble, some he called by their names, some he con¬
jured, and others he forced to go on board their gal¬
leys ; but all his endeavours and emotions were ineffec¬
tual, the soldiers being dispersed on all sides. For they
were no sooner come on shore, than some ran to the
sutlers, some to walk in the country, some to sleep in
their tents, and others had begun to dress their suppers.
This proceeded from the want of vigilance and experi¬
ence in their generals, who, not suspecting the least
danger, indulged themselves in taking their repose, and
gave their soldiers the same liberty.
The enemy had already fallen on with loud cries and
a great noise of their oars, when Conon, disengaging
himself with nine galleys, of which number was the sa¬
cred ship called the Paralian, stood away for Cyprus,
where he took refuge with Evagoras. The Pelopon¬
nesians, falling upon the rest of the fleet, took imme¬
diately the galleys which were empty, and disabled
and destroyed such as began to fill with men. The
soldiers, who ran without order or arms to their relief,
were either killed in their endeavour to get on hoard, or
flying on shore were cut to pieces by the enemy, who
landed in pursuit of them. Lysander took 8000 pri¬
soners, with all the generals, and the whole fleet. Af¬
ter having plundered the camp, and fastened the ene¬
my’s galleys to the sterns of his own, he returned to
JLampsacus amidst the sound of flutes and songs of
triumph. It was his glory to have achieved one of the
greatest military exploits recorded in history with little
or no loss, and to have terminated a war in the small
space of an hour, which had already lasted 27 years,
and which perhaps, without him, had been of much
longer continuance.
iEGYPT. See Egypt.,
jiEGYPTIACUM, m Pharmacy, the name of seve¬
ral detergent ointments ; as black, red, white, simple,
and compound.
iEGYPTILLA, in Natural History, the name of a
stone described by the ancients, and said, by some au¬
thors, to have the remarkable quality of giving water
the colour and taste of wine. This seems a very ima¬
ginary virtue, as are indeed too many of those in for-
mer ages attributed to stones. The descriptions left us j
of this remarkable fossil tell us, that it was variegated A:i
with, or composed of, veins of black and white, orU~'
black and bluish, with sometimes a plate or vein of
whitish red. The authors of these accounts seem to
have understood by this name the several stones of the
onyx, sardonyx, and cameo kind ; all Avhich we have
at present common among us, hut none of which pos¬
sesses any such strange properties.
iEGYPTUS, in fabulous history, was the son of
Belns, and brother of Danaus. See Belides.
JEINAVTJE, in antiquity, ethvxvTxi, always ma¬
riners, a denomination given to the senators of Mile¬
tus, because they held their deliberations on hoard a
ship, and never returned to land till matters had been
agreed on.
iELFRIC, an eminent ecclesiastic of the 10th cen¬
tury, was the son of an earl of Kent, and a monk of
the Benedictine order in the monastery of Abingdon.
In 963, he was settled in the cathedral of Winches¬
ter, under Athelwold the bishop, and undertook the
instruction of the youth of the diocese, for which pur¬
pose he compiled a Latin Saxon vocabulary, and some
Latin colloquies. He also translated from the Latin
into Saxon many of the historical books of the Old
Testament. While he resided at Winchester he drew
up Canons, which are a kind of charge to be delivered
by the bishops to their clergy. He was afterwards
abbot of St Alban’s, bishop of Wilton, and, finally,
in 994, translated to the see of Canterbury. Here he
had a hard struggle for some years in bravely defend¬
ing his diocese against the incursions of the Danes.
He died in 1005, and was buried at Abingdon ; but
his remains were removed to Canterbury in the reign
of Canute. vElfric is held up as one of the most di¬
stinguished prelates of the Saxon church. His learn¬
ing, for the times, was considerable, his morals were
pure, and his religious sentiments were untainted with
many of the corruptions of the age in which he lived.
Besides the works already mentioned, he translated two
volumes of Homilies from the Latin Fathers.
iELFRlC, surnamed Bata, pupil of the former, was
promoted to the archbishopric of York in 1023, and
died in 1051.
tElfric, an abbot of Malmsbury in 974, was creat¬
ed bishop of Crediton in 974, and died in 981.
iELIA Capitolina, a name given to the city built
by the emperor Adrian, A. D. 134, near the spot where
the ancient Jerusalem stood, which he found in ruins
when he visited the eastern parts of the Roman empire.
A Roman colony was settled here, and a temple, in
place of that of Jerusalem, was dedicated to Jupiter Ca-
pitolinus. Hence the name is derived, to which he pre¬
fixed that of his own family.
jELIAN, Claudius, born at Praeneste in Italy.
He taught rhetoric at Rome, according to Perizonius,
under the emperor Alexander Severus. He was sur¬
named MsAiyXwo-s-aj, Honey-mouth, on account of the
sweetness of his style in his discourses and writings. To
this excellence the poet alludes:
0 jocunda, Covine, solitudo,
Carrucd magis, essedoque gratum,
Facundi mi/ii munus JEliani. Martial.
He
A E N [ 209 ] A E N
jjlian He was likewise honoured with the title of Sophist, an
|| appellation in his days given only to men of learning
jEnaria. and wisdom. He loved retirement, and devoted him-
Y self to study. He greatly admired and studied Plato,
Aristotle, Isocrates, Plutarch, Homer, Anacreon,
Archilochus, &c. and, though a Roman, gives the pre¬
ference to the writers of the Greek nation. His two
most celebrated works are, his Various History, and
History of Animals. He composed likewise a book on
Providence, mentioned by Eustathius ; and another on
Divine Appearances, or The Declarations of Provi¬
dence. There have been several editions of his Va¬
rious History.
iELII pons, in Ancient Geography, one of the for¬
tresses near the wall or rampart, or, in the words of
the Notitia, through the line of the hither wall ; built,
as is thought, by Adrian : now named Portland, in
Northumberland, between Newcastle and Morpeth,
(Camden.)
iELIUS pons, now il Ponte St Angelo, a stone
bridge at Rome, over the Tiber, which leads to the
Burgo and Vatican from the city, along Adrian’s mole,
built by the emperor Adrian.
JELFRED. See Alfred.
iELURUS, in Egyptian Mythology, the deity or
god of cats •, represented sometimes like a cat, and
sometimes like a man with a cat’s head. The Egyp¬
tians had so superstitious a regard for this animal, that
the killing it, whether by accident or design, was pu¬
nished with death 5 and Diodorus relates, that, in the
time of extreme famine, they chose rather to eat one
another than touch these sacred animals.
AEM, Am, or Ame, a liquid measure used in most
parts of Germany j but different in different towns :
the aem commonly contains 20 vertils, or 80 masses j
that of Heidelberg is equal to 48 masses ; and that of
Wirtemberg to 160 masses. See A am.
jEMILIUS Paulus, the son of iEmilius Paulus
who was killed at the battle of Cannae. He was twice
consul. In his first consulate he triumphed over the Li¬
gurians and in the second subdued Pei’seus king of
Macedonia, and reduced that country to a Roman pro¬
vince, on which he obtained the surname of Macedoni-
cus. He returned to Rome loaded with glory, and
triumphed for three days. He died 168 years before
Christ.
jEmilius, Paulus, a celebrated historian, born at
S erona, who obtained such reputation in Italy, that he
was invited into France by the cardinal of Bourbon, in
the reign of Louis XII. in order to write the history
of the kings of France in Latin, and was presented to a
canonry in the cathedral of Paris. He was near 30 years
in writing that history, which has been greatly admir¬
ed 5 and died at Paris on the 5th of May 1 929.
iEMOROLIUM, in antiquity, the blood of a bull
or ram offered in the sacrifices, called taurobolia and
cnobolia ; in which sense the word occurs in ancient
inscriptions.
iENARIA, in Ancient Geography, an island in the
bay of Cumae, or over-against Cum* in Italy, (Pliny).
It is also called Inarime (Virgil) ; and now Ischia ;
scarce three miles distant from the coast, and the pro¬
montory Misenus to the w'est ; 20 miles in compass $
called Pithecusa by the Cheeks. It is one of the Oeno-
trides, and fenced round by very high rocks, so as to
Vql. I. Part I. f
be inaccessible but on one side : it was formerly famous iEnaria
for its earthen-ware. See Ischia. ||
2ENEAS, in fabulous history, a famous Trojan i -Angina,
prince, the son of Anchises and Venus. At the de-
struction of Troy, he bore his aged father on his back,
and saved him from the Greeks ; but being too solici¬
tous about his son and household gods, lost his wife
Creiisa in the escape. Landing in Africa, he was
kindly received by Queen Dido : but quitting her
coast, he arrived in Italy, where he married Lavinia
the daughter of King Latinus, and defeated Turnus,
to whom she had been contracted. After the death
of his father-in-law, he was made king of the Latins,
over whom he reigned three years : but joining with
the Aborigines, he was slain in a battle against the
Tuscans. Virgil has rendered the name of this prince
immortal, by making him the hero of his poem. See
JEneid.
^Eneas Sylvius, Pope. See Pius II.
.ENEATORES, in antiquity, the musicians in an
army, including those that played trumpets, horns, &c.
The word is formed from ceneus, on account of the bra¬
zen instruments used by them.
ENEID, the name of Virgil’s celebrated epic poem. Blair's
The subject of the Eneid, which is the establishmentI‘ectures-
of Eneas in Italy, is extremely happy. Nothing could
be more interesting to the Romans than to look back to
their origin from so famous a hero. While the object
w'as splendid itself, the traditionary history of his coun¬
try opened interesting fields to the poet 5 and he could
glance at all the future great exploits of the Romans,
in its ancient and fabulous state.
As to the unity of action, it is perfectly well pre¬
served in the Eneid. The settlement of Eneas, by
the order of the gods, is constantly kept in view.
The episodes are linked properly with the main sub¬
ject. The nodus, or intrigue of the poem, is happily
managed. The wrath of Juno, who opposes Eneas,
gives rise to all his difficulties, and connects the hu¬
man with the celestial operations throughout the whole
poem.
One great imperfection of the Eneid, however, is,
that there are almost no marked characters in it. A-
chates, Cloanthes, Gyges, and other Trojan heroes who
accompanied Eneas into Italy, are insipid figures.
Even Eneas himself is without interest. The charac¬
ter of Dido is the best supported in the whole Eneid.
The principal excellency of Virgil is tenderness. His
soul was full of sensibility. He must have felt himself
all the affecting circumstances in the scenes he de¬
scribes j and he knew how to touch the heart by a
single stroke. In an epic poem this merit is the next
to sublimity. The second book of the Eneid is one of
the greatest masterpieces that ever was executed. The
death of old Priam, and the family-pieces of Eneas,
Anchises, and Creiisa, are as tender as can be conceiv¬
ed. In the fourth book, the unhappy passion and death
of Dido are admirable. The episodes of Pallas and
Evander, of Nisus and Euryalus, of Lausus and Me-
zentius, are all superlatively fine.
In his battles Virgil is far inferior to Homer. But
in the important episode, the descent into hell, he has
outdone Homer by many degrees. There is nothing in
antiquity to equal the sixth book of the Eneid.
ENGINA, one of the islands of the Archipelago.
D d It
A E N [2
jEnglna, It lies in the hay of Engia, and the town of that name
./J^rngma. contains about 800 houses and a castle ^ and neat it aie
'‘“"■■'V—the ruins of a magnificent structure, which was formerly
a temple.
/ENIGMA denotes any dark saying, wherein some
well known thing is concealed under obscure language.
The word is Greek, Amypx, formed of aiipTia-Oeet, ob¬
scure innuere, to hint a thing darkly, and of sanof, an
obscure speech or discourse. The popular name is
riddle ; from the Belgic racden, or the Saxon aracihan,
to interpret. F. Bouhours, in the memoirs of Tre-
voux, defines an eenigma, a discourse or painting, in¬
cluding some hidden meaning, which is proposed to be
guessed.
Painted Enigmas, are representations of the works
of nature or art, concealed under human figures, drawn
from history or fable.
Verbal JEsigma, is a witty, artful, and abstruse
description of any thing.—In a general sense, every
dark saying, every difficult question, every parable, may
pass for an cenigma. Hence obscure laws are called
JEnigmata Juris. The alchemists are great dealers in
the enigmatic language, their processes for the philoso¬
pher’s stone being generally wrapt up in riddles : e. g.
Pac ex mare et feemina circulum, inde quadranguliim
Jdnc triangulum,fac circulum, et habebis lapidem philo-
sophorum.-—F. Menestrier has attempted to reduce the
composition and resolution of aenigmas to a kind of art,
with fixed rules and principles, which he calls the phi¬
losophy of (enigmatic images.
, The Subject of an /Enigma, or the thing to be
concealed and made a mystery of, he justly observes,
ought not to be such in itself 5 but, on the contrary,
common, obvious, and easy to be conceived. It is to
be taken, either from nature, as the heaven or stars 5
or from art, as painting, the compass, a mirror, or the
like.
The Form of /Enigmas consists in the words, which,
whether they be in prose or verse, contain either some
description, a question, or a prosopopoeia. The last
kind are the most pleasing,, inasmuch as they give life
and action to things which otherwise have them not.
To make an renigma, therefore, two things are to be
pitched on which bear some resemblance to each other,
as the sun and a monarch j or a ship and a house $
and on this resemblance is to be raised a superstructure
of contrarieties to amu£e and perplex. It is easier
to find great subjects for senigmas in figures than in
words,' inasmuch as painting attracts the eyes and ex¬
cites the attention to discover the sense. The subjects
of oenigmas in painting are to be taken either from
history or fable : the composition here is a kind of me¬
tamorphosis, wherein, e. g. human figures are changed
into trees, and rivers into metals. It is essential to
aenigmas, that the history or fable, under which they
are presented, be known to every body: otherwise it
will be twro senigmas instead of one; tbe first of the
history or fable, the second of the sense in which it is
to be taken. Another essential rule of the senigma is,
that it only admits of one sense. Every senigma which
is susceptive of difl’erent interpretations, all equally na¬
tural, is so far imperfect. What gives a kind of erudi¬
tion to an tenigma, is the invention of figures in situa¬
tions, gestures, colours, &c. authorised by passages of
i o ] A E N
the poets, the customs of artists in statues, basso relic- ^njgsj,.,
vo's, inscriptions, and medals.—In foreign colleges, '—v—
The Explication of /Enigmas makes a considerable
exercise ; and that one of the most difficult and amu¬
sing, where wit arid penetration have the largest field.
—By explaining an senigma, is meant the finding a
motto corresponding to the action and persons repre¬
sented in a picture, taken either from history or my¬
thology. The great art of this exercise consists in the
choice of a motto, which either by itself, or the cir¬
cumstances of time, place, person who speaks, or those
before whom he is speaking, may divert the spectators,
and furnish occasion for strokes of wit; also in showing
to advantage the conformities between the figure and
thing figured, giving ingenious turns to the reasons
employed to support what is advanced, and in artfully
introducing pieces of poetry to illustr ate the subject and
awaken the attention of the audience.
As to the solution of enigmas, it may be observed,
that those expressed by figures are more difficult to ex¬
plain than those consisting of words, by reason images
may signify more things than words can 5 so that to
fix them to a particular sense, we must apply every si¬
tuation, symbol, &c. and without omitting a circum¬
stance.—As there are few persons in history, or my¬
thology, but have some particular character of vice or
virtue, we are, before all things, to attend to this cha¬
racter, in order to divine what the figure of a person
represented in a painting signifies, and to find what
agreement this may have with the subject whereof we
would explain it. Thus, if Proteus be represented in
a picture, it may be taken to denote inconstancy, and
applied either to a physical or moral subject, whose
character is to be changeable, e. g. an almanack, which
expresses the weather, the seasons, heat, cold, storms,
and the like. The colours of figures may also help to
unriddle what they mean : white, for instance, is a
mark of innocence, red of modesty, green of hope,
black of sorrow, &c. When figures are accompanied
with symbols, they are less precarious j these being, as
it were, the soul of tenigmas, and the key that opens
the mystery of them. Of all the kinds of symbols
which may be met with in those who have treated pro¬
fessedly on the subject, the only true enigmatical are
those of Pythagoras, which, under dark proverbs, hold
forth lessons of morality \ as when he says Stateram tie
transilias, to signify, Ho no injustice.
But it must be added, that we meet with some aenig¬
mas, in history, complicated to a degree which much
transcends all rules, and has given great perplexity to
the interpreters of them. Such is that celebrated an¬
cient one, /Elia Lceha Crispis, about which many of the
learned have puzzled their heads. There are two ex¬
emplars of it: one found 14c years ago, on a marble
near Bologna : the other in an ancient MS. written
in Gothic letters at Milan. It is controverted be¬
tween the two cities, which is to be reputed the mor«
authentic.
The Bononian /Enigma.
D. M.
TElia Lcelia Crispis,
Nec vir, nec mulier,
Nec androgyna ;
Nec pueila, nec juvenis,
Nee
A E N
[ 2ii ] A E O
Eluigma
I!
Eiiona.
Nec anus ;
Nec casta, nec meretrix,
Nee pudica ;
Sed omnia:
Sublata
Neque fame, neque ferro,
Neque veneno ;
Sed omnibus:
Nec ccelo, nec terris,
Nec aquis,
Sed ubique jacet.
Lucius Agatho Priscius,
Nec maritus, nec amator,
Nec necessarius ;
Neque mccrens, neque gaudens,
Neque flens ;
Hanc,
Nec molem, nec pyramidem,
Nec sepulchrum,
Sed omnia,
Scit et nescit, cui posuent.
That is to say, To the gods manes, JElia Lcelia Crispis,
neither man, nor woman, nor hermaphrodite; neither
girl, nor young ivoman, nor old; neither chaste, nor a
whore ; but all these : killed neither by hunger, nor
steel, nor poison ; but by all these: rests neither in hea¬
ven, nor on earth, nor in the waters ; but everywhere.
Lucius Agatho Priscius, neither her husband, nor lover,
nor friend; neither sorrowful, nor joyful, nor weeping,
certain, or uncertain, to whom he rears this monument,
neither erects her a temple, nor a pyramid, nor a tomb,
but all these. In the MS. at Milan, instead of jD. M.
we find A. M. P. P. D. and at the end the following
addition:
Hoc est sepulchrum intus cadaver non habens.
Hoc est cadaver sepulchrum extra non habens,
Sed cadaver idem est et sepulchrum.
We find near 50 several solutions of this senigma
advanced by learned men. Marius Michael Ange¬
lo maintains 2E.Ua Lcelia Crispis to signify rain wa¬
ter falling into the sea. Ri. Vitus first explained it of
Niobe, turned to a stone, afterwards of the rational
soul, and afterwards of the Platonic idea j Jo. Turrius,
of the materia prima ; Fr. Schottus, of an eunuch 5
Nic. Bernardus, of the philosopher’s stone, in which he
is followed by Borrichius j Zach. Pontinus, of three
human bodies, in the same situation ; and buried by
three different men at the same time j Nesmondius, of
a law-suit; Jo. Gas. Gerartius, of love j Zu. Boxhor-
nius, of a shadow \ P. Terronus, of music; Fort. Li-
cetus, of generation, friendship and privation ; M. Ov.
Montalbanus, of hemp-, Car. Cses. Malvasia, of an,
abortive girl promised in marriage ; Pet. Mengulus, of
the rule of chastity, prescribed by the founder of the
military religion of St Mary j M. de Ciconia, of Pope
Joan ; Heumannus, of Lot’s wife*, and lastly, J. C. S.
an anonymous writer in the Leipsic Acts, of the Chri¬
stian church.
ALNIGMATOGRAPHY, or ^Enigmathologt,
the art of resolving or making aenigmas.
AiNONA, in Ancient Geography, a city of Libur-
nia, called by Pliny Civitas Prasini, the reason of
which is unknown j also Enona; and is now called
Nona ; on the Adriatic, by which it is for the greater ^Enonai
part surrounded $ over against the island Gissa, from |}
which it is distant four miles to the west. E. Long.
16°. N. Lat. 28®. ■—~v——
iENUS, in Ancient Geography, now the Inn, a river
of Germany, which, rising in the country of the Gri-
sons, out of the Alps, in the district called Gottes-
haus-punt, runs through the Grisons, the county of Ty¬
rol, the duchy of Bavaria, and through Passau into the
Danube.
-/Enus, JEnos, or JEnum, in Ancient Geography, a
town of Thrace, situated on the eastmost mouth of the
Hebrus, which has two mouths j and said to be built
by the Cumeans. It was a free town, in which stood
the tomb of Polydorus, (Pliny) ; 2Enius is the epithet.
Here the brother of Cato Uticensis died, and was ho¬
noured with a monument of marble in the forum of the
j(Enii, (Plutarch) ; called JEnei, (Stephanus). Livy
says that the town was otherwise called Absynthus.
Now Eno.
^ENITHOLOGIUS, in Poetry, a verse of two
dactyls and three trochaeij o&Prcelia diraplacent truci
juventce.
EPOLIJEj insulje, now Isold Lipari, in Ancient
Geography, seven islands, situated between Sicily and
Italy *, so called from JEolus, who reigned there about
the time of the Trojan war. The Greeks call them
Hephcestiad.es; and the Romans Vulcanite, from their
fiery eruptions. They are also called Liparceorum In-
sulce, from their principal island Lipara. Dionysius Pe-
riegetes calls them U^vlxi, because circumnavigable.
JEOLIC, in a general sense, denotes something be¬
longing to iEolis.
tEolic, or -Eolian, in Grammar, denotes one
of the five dialects of the Greek tongue. It was first
used in Boeotia ; whence it passed into ^Eolia, and was
that which Sappho and Alcaeus wrote in. The iEolie
dialect generally throws out the aspirate or sharp spirit,
and agrees in so many things with the Doric dialect,
that the two are usually confounded together.
The JEolic digamma is a name given to the letter F,
which the iEolians used to prefix to words beginning
with vowels, as Fa<v<s?, for •n’os > also to insert between
vowels, as oF<;, for o<?.
JEolic Verse, in Prosody, a verse consisting of an
iambus, or spondee 5 then of two anapests, separated
by a long syllable j and, lastly, of another syllable.
Such as, O stelliferi conditor orbis. This is otherwise
called eulogic verse j and, from the chief poets who used
it, Archilochian and Pindaric.
tEOLIPILE, in Hydraulics, is a hollow ball of
metal, generally used in courses of experimental philo¬
sophy, in order to demonstrate the possibility of con¬
verting water into an elastic steam or vapour by heat.
The instrument, therefore, consists of a slender neck,
or pipe, having a narrow orifice inserted into the ball
by means of a shouldered screw. This pipe being taken,
out, the ball is filled almost full of water, and the pipe
being again screwed in, the ball is placed on a pan of
kindled charcoal, where it is well heated, and there
issues from the orifice a vapour, with prodigious vio¬
lence and great noise, which continues till all the in¬
cluded water is discharged. The sti’onger the fire is,
the more elastic and violent will be the steam j but care
must be taken that the small orifice of the pipe he not,
D d 2 by
A E O [21
by any accident, stopped up j because the instrument
would in that case infallibly burst in pieces, with such
violence as might greatly endanger the lives of the per¬
sons near it. Another way of introducing the water
is to heat the ball red hot when empty, which will drive
out almost all the air j and then by suddenly immer-
ging it in water, the pressure of the atmosphere will
force in the fluid, till it is nearly full. Des Cajtes and
others have used this instrument to account for the na¬
tural cause and generation of the wind: and hence it
was called JEolipila: q. A. pi/a JEoli, the ball of iEolus
or of the god of the winds.
/EOLIS, or TEolia, in Ancient Geegraphy, a coun¬
try of the Hither Asia, settled by colonies of iEolian
Greeks. Taken at large, it comprehends all Troas,
and the coast of the Hellespont to the Propontis, be¬
cause in those parts there were several iEolian colo¬
nies : more strictly, it is situated between Troas to the
north, and Ionia to the south. The people are called
/Boles or JEolii.
vEOLIUM mare, in Ancient Geography, a part
of the iEgean sea, washing iEolis j called also Mysiwn,
from Mysia. Now called Go/fo diSmyrna.
iEOLUS, in heathen mythology, the god of the
winds, was said to be the son of Jupiter by Acasta, or
Sigesia, the daughter of Hippotus : or, according to
others, the son of Hippotus by Meneclea, daughter of
Hyllus king of Lipara. He dwelt in the island
Strongyle, now called Strombolo, one of the seven
islands called JBolian from their being under the do¬
minion of iEolus. Others say, that his residence was
at Khegium, in Italy : and others again place him in
the island Lipara. He is represented as having au¬
thority over the winds, which he held enchained in a
vast cavern, to prevent their continuing the devasta¬
tions they had been guilty of before they were put un¬
der his direction. Mythologists explain the original of
these fables, by saying, that he was a wise and good
prince; and, being skilled in astronomy, wTas able, by
the flux and reflux of the tides, and the nature of the
volcano in the island Strongyle, to foretel storms and
tempests.
Harp of /Bolus, or the iEolian lyre. See Acou¬
stics.
iEON, a Greek word, properly signifying the age
or duration of any thing.
HLon, among the followers of Plato, was used to
signify any virtue, attribute, or perfection : hence they
represented the deity as an assemblage of all possible
icons 5 and called him pleroma, a Greek term signify-
mg fulness. The Valentinians, who, in the first ages
of the church, blended the conceits of the Jewish ca-
balists, the Platonists, and the Chaldean philosophers,
with the simplicity of the Christian doctrine, invented
a kind of Theogony, or Genealogy of Gods (not un¬
like that of Hesiod), whom they called by several glo¬
rious names, and . all by the general appellation of
./Eons : among which they reckoned Z*)*!, Life ;
JFord; Mevoyom?, Only-begotten; TIAtig&’/tix, Fulness; and
many other divine powers and emanations, amounting
in number to thirty ; which they fancied to be succes¬
sively derived from one another j and all from one self-
originated deity, named Byt/ius, i. e. profound or un¬
fathomable ; whom they called likewise, The most high
and ineffable Father. See Valentinians.
3,
2 ] A E E
/EORA, among ancient writers on medicine, is used ^orfi
for gestation ; which sort of exercise was often prescrib- ||
ed by the physicians of those days. Other exercises '®ra<
consisted principally in the motion of the body ; but 'r~'
in the eeora the limbs were at rest, while the body was
carried about and moved from place to place, in such
a manner as the physician prescribed. It had there¬
fore the advantage of exercise, without the fatigue of
it.—This exercise was promoted several ways : some¬
times the patient was laid in a sort of hammock, sup¬
ported by ropes, and moved backward and forward j
sometimes his bed run nimbly on its feet. And some¬
times he was carried in a litter, in a boat or ship, or
on even ground in a chariot.—Asclepiades was the first
who brought gestation into practice, which was used as
a means to recover strength after a fever, &c.
/EPINUS, F. U. T. a German mathematician and
philosopher. See Supplement.
/EQUANA JuGA, in Ancient Geography, moun¬
tains of Picenum, in the kingdom of Naples, now
called Montagna di Sorrento, denominated from the
town /Equa, which being destroyed, was replaced by
Vicus, now Vico di Sorrento: called also (Sil.
Italicus).
/EQUIMELIUM, in antiquity, a place in Rome,
where stood the house of Spurius Melius, who, by lar¬
gesses corrupting the people, affected the supreme
power : refusing to appear before the dictator Cincin-
natus, he was slain by Servilius Ahala, master of the
horse ; his house was razed to the ground ; and the
spot on which it stood was called Area Fquimelii,
(Livy).
/ERA, in chronology, a fixed point of time from
whence any number of years is begun to be counted.
It is sometimes also written in ancient authors Fra.
The origin of the term is contested, though it is ge¬
nerally allowed to have had its rise in Spain. Sepul¬
veda supposes it formed from A. ER. A. the notie or
abbreviatures of the words, annus erat Augusti, occa¬
sioned by the Spaniards beginning their computation
from the time their country came under the dominion
of Augustus, or that of receiving the Roman calender.
This opinion, however ingenious, is rejected by Sca-
liger, not only on account that in the ancient abbrevia¬
tures A never stood for annus, unless when preceded by
V for vixit; and that it seems improbable they should
put ER for erat, and the latter A, without any discri¬
mination, both for annus and Augustus. Vossius never¬
theless favours the conjecture, and judges it at least as
probable, as either that of Isidore, wha derives cera
from ces, the “ tribute-money,” wherewith Augustus
taxed the world : or that of Scaliger himself, who de¬
duces it likewise from ces, though in a different manner.
Ais, he observes, was used among the ancients for an
article or item in an account; and hence it came also
to stand for a sum or number itself. From the plural
eera, came by corruption cera, ceram, in the singular:
much as Ostia, Ostiam, the name of a place, from Ostiay
the mouths of the Tyber.
The difference between the terms cera and epoch is,
that the icras are certain points fixed by some people,
or nation; and the epochs are points fixed by chrono-
logists and historians. The idea of an sera comprehends
also a certain succession of years proceeding from a fixed
point of time, and the epoch is that point itself. Thus
the
A E K [ 213 ] A E R
the Christian oera began at the epoch of the birth of
Jesus Christ. See Chronology, where the different
Eras, &c. are enumerated and explained.
gERAIlIUM, the treasury or place where the pub¬
lic money was deposited amongst the Romans.
JEBARIUM Sanctius contained the moneys arising
from the twentieth part of all legacies: this was kept
for the extreme necessities of the state.
iErarwm Privatum was the emperor’s privy purse,
or the place where the money arising from his private
patrimony was deposited.
JErarium Vicesirnarum, the place where the money
arising from the taxes levied from foreign countries was
laid up, so called because it most commonly consisted
of a twentieth part of the produce.
/Ebarium liithyce, or Junonis Lucince, was where
the moneys were deposited which parents paid for the
birth of each child.
There are several other treasuries mentioned in hi¬
story, as the eerarium Juventutis. Veneris, &c. - The
temple of Saturn was the public treasury of Rome,
either because Saturn first taught the Italians to coin
money, or, which is most likely, because this temple
was the strongest and most secure, and therefore the
fittest, place for that purpose.
JErarium differs from Jiscus, as the first contained
the public money, the second that of the prince. The
two are, however, sometimes indiscriminately used for
each other.
^ERARIUS, a name given by the Romans to a de¬
graded citizen, who had been struck off the list of his
century. Such persons were so called, because they
were liable to all the taxes («ro), without enjoying
any of its privileges.
The ccrarii were incapable of making a will, of in¬
heriting, of voting in assemblies, of enjoying any post
of honour or profit; in effect, were onlv subject to the
burdens, without the benefits of society j yet they re¬
tained their freedom, and were not reduced to the con¬
dition of slaves. To be made an cerarius was a pu¬
nishment inflicted for some offence, and reputed one
degree more severe than to he expelled a tribe, tribu
moveri.
JErarius was also an officer instituted by Alexander
Severus, for the distribution of the money given in lar¬
gesses to the soldiery or people.
^Erarius was also used for a person employed in
coining or working brass.
These are sometimes called cerariifusores ; at other
times, cerarius is distinguished from fusor ; the former
answering to what we now call coppersmiths, the latter
to founders.
^Erarius was likewise applied to a soldier who re¬
ceives pay.
AERIA, or Eeria, in Ancient Geography, the an¬
cient name of Egypt. The scholiast on Apollonius
Rhodius, says, that not only Thessaly, but Egypt, was
called Hegtx by the Greeks, which Eusebius also con¬
firms : and hence Apollinarius, in his translation of the
114th Psalm, uses it for Egypt. Hesychius applies
this name to Ethiopia.
AERIAL, in a general sense, denotes something Aerial
partaking of the nature of air 5 thus aerial substances, ii
aerial particles, &c. Aerophy-
Aerial Perspective. See Perspective and Paint-
ING.
AERIANS, in church history, a branch of Arlans,
who, to the doctrines of that sect, added some pecu¬
liar dogmas of their own j as, that there is no differ¬
ence between bishops and priests 5 a doctrine maintain¬
ed by many modern divines, particularly of the pres-
byterian and reformed churches. The sect received its
denomination from Aerius an Armenian priest of the
fourth century. He founded his doctrine chiefly upon
some passages in St Paul j and, among others, upon
that in 1 Tim. iv. 14. where the apostle exhorts him
not to neglect the gift he had received by the laying on
of the hands of the Presbytery. Here, observes Aerius,
is no mention of bishops : on the contrary, Timothy
evidently received his ordination from the presbyters or
priests.—Epiphanius zealously maintains the superiority
of bishops against the Aerians. The Avoid pi'esbytery,
used by the apostle, he observes, includes both bishops
and priests •, the whole senate or assembly of the eccle¬
siastics of the place.
Flos iERIS, among alchemists, small scales procu¬
red from copper melted by a strong heat; it is some¬
times used for aerugo or \rerdigris.
AEROGRAPHY, from «»jg, air, and yexfyw, 1 de¬
scribe ; a description of the air or atmosphere, its li¬
mits, dimensions, properties, &c. This amounts to
much the same with aerology, unless Ave suppose the
latter to enter into the rationale, and the former to con¬
fine itself to a description of the more obvious affections
thereof. See Meteorology.
AEROMANCY, a species of divination performed
by means of air, Avind, &c. See Divination.
AEROMETRY, the science of measuring the air.
It comprehends not only the doctrine of the air itself,
considered as a fluid body, but also its pressure, elasti¬
city, rarefaction, and condensation. But the term is
at present not much in use, this branch of natural phi-,
losophy being more frequently called Pneumatics. See,
Pneumatics.
AERONAUT, a person Avho navigates or floats in.
the air by means of an air balloon. See Aerosta-,
tion.
AERONAUTICA, from «J!g, and vetvracos, derived
from yxvf, ship ; the art of sailing in a vessel or machine:
through the atmosphere, sustained as a ship in the sea.
See Aerostation.
AEROPHYLACEA, a term used by naturalists
for caverns or reservoix*s of air, supposed to exist in
the bowels of the earth. Kircher speaks much of aero-
phylacea, or huge caverns replete Avith air, disposed
under ground $ from Avhence, through numerous oc¬
cult passages, that element is conA'eyed either to sub¬
terraneous receptacles of Avater, which, according to
him, ai’e hereby raised into spi-ings or rivers, or into
the funds of subterraneous fire, which ai'e hereby fed
and kept alive for the restoration of metals, minerals,
and the like.
AEROSTATION,
[ 214 ]
AEROSTATION,
tion.
IN its primitive sense, denotes the science of weights
suspended in the airj but in its modern accepta¬
tion, it signifies aerial navigation, or the art of navi¬
gating through the atmosphere. Hence also the ma¬
chines which are employed for this purpose are called
aerostats, or aerostatic machines ; and from their globu¬
lar shape, air balloons.
The romances of almost every nation have recorded
instances of persons being carried through the air,
both by the agency of spirits and by mechanical inven-
tions*, but till the time of Friar Bacon, who died in
published *292, no rational principle appears ever to have been
the true thought of by tvhich this might be accomplished. He
principles had written upon the subject, and not only assures us
of aerosta- Gf tjie practicability of the art, but that he knew how to
construct a machine in which a man might transport
himself through the air like a bird ; and he affirms
that the experiment had been successfully made by ano¬
ther person. The machine consisted of two large thin
shells, or hollow globes of copper, which were exhaust¬
ed of air ; and thus being lighter than air, would sup¬
port a chair on which a person might sit.
Many had been of opinion, that by means of arti¬
ficial wings, fixed to the arms or legs, a man might
fly as well as a bird : but these opinions were tho¬
roughly refuted by Borelliin his treatise Tie Motii Ani-
Impossibili- rnalium, where, from a comparison between the power
i7 meeha* ^le musc'es which move the wings of a bird, and
iiical60 d~ those which move the arms of a man, he demonstrates
means. that the latter are utterly insufficient to strike the air
with such force as to raise him from the ground. It
cannot be denied, however, that wings of this kind,
if properly constructed, and dexterously managed,
might be sufficient to break the fall of a human body
from a high place, So that some adventurers in this way
might possibly come off with safety j though by far the
greatest number of those who have rashly adopted such
schemes, have either lost their lives or limbs in the
attempt.
Scheme of I11 year I^725 Bishop Wilkins published a trea-
JSishopWil- tise, entitled, The Discovery of the New World j in
kins and which he mentions, though in a very indistinct and
^"confhsed manner, the true principle on which the air
is navigable •, quoting, from Albertus de Saxonia and
Francis Mendoza, “ that the air is in some part of it
navigable: and upon this static principle, any brass or
iron vessel (suppose a kettle), ■whose substance is much
heavier than that of water, yet being filled with the
lighter air, it will swim upon it and not sink. So sup¬
pose a cup or wooden vessel upon the outward borders
of this elementary air, the capacity of it being filled
with fire, or rather ethereal air,it must necessarily, upon
the same ground, remain swimming there, and of itself
Can no more fall than an empty ship can sink.” This
idea, however, he did not by any means pursue, but
rested his hopes entirely upon mechanical motions, to
be accomplished by the mere strength of a man, or by
springs, &c. and which have been demonstrated inca-
pa^-i of answering any useful purpose.
2
The only person who brought his scheme of flying Bishop
to any kind of rational principle was the Jesuit Francis Lana’s
Dana, cotemporary with Bishop Wilkins. His method scheme
was similar to Friar Bacon’s. He was acquainted with
the real weight of the atmosphere, and, justly con¬
cluded, that if a globular vessel were exhausted of air,
it would weigh less than before j and considering that
the solid contents of vessels increase in much greater
proportion than their surfaces ; he supposed that a me¬
talline vessel mightbe made so large, that, when emptied
of its air, it would be able not only to raise itself in
the atmosphere, but to carry up passengers along with
it: and he made a number of calculations necessary for
putting the project in execution. But though the
theory was here unexceptionable, the means proposed
were certainly insufficient to accomplish the end : for a
vessel of copper, made so thin as was necessary to make
it float in the atmosphere, would be utterly unable to
resist the external pressure j which being demonstrated
by those skilled in mechanics, no attempt was made on
that principle.
In the year 1709, however, as we are informed bystl.ang(.
a letter published in France in 1784, a Portuguese pro-proposal oil
jector, Friar Gusman, applied to the king for encou- Eriar Cm.
ragement to his invention of a flying machine. Theman*
principle on which his was constructed, if indeedit
had any principle, seems to have been that of the pa¬
per kite. The machine was constructed in form of a
bird, and contained several tubes through which the
wind was to pass, in order to fill a kind of sails, which
were to elevate it *, and when the wind was deficient,
the same effect was to be performed by means of bel¬
lows concealed within the body of the machine. The
ascent was also to be promoted by the electric attrac¬
tion of pieces of amber placed in the top, and by two
spheres enclosing magnets in the same situation.
These childish inventions show the low state of science
at that time in Portugal, especially as the king, in or¬
der to encourage him to farther exertions in such an
useful invention, granted him the first vacant place in
his college of Baixelos or Santarem, with the first pro¬
fessorship in the university of Coimbra, and an annual
pension of 600,000 reis during his life. Of this De
Gusman, it is also related, that, in the year 1736, he
made a wicker basket of about seven or eight feet dia¬
meter, and covered with paper, which raised itself about
200 feet in the air, and the effect was generally attri¬
buted to witchcraft.
In the year 1766, Mr Henry Cavendish ascertained Possibilitrl
the weight and other properties of inflammable air, de- b°dies
termining it to be at least seven times lighter than “s*n^.rm
common air. Soon after which it occurred to Dr t]10Ugjit #j
Black, that perhaps a thin bag filled with inflammable by Dr
air might be buoyed up by the common atmosphere, Black am
and he thought of having the allantois of a calf prepar- Mr^a'a
ed for this purpose j but his other avocations prevent¬
ed him from prosecuting the experiment. The same
thought occurred some years aftenvards to Mr Cavallo j
and he has the honour of being the first who made ex¬
periments
215
istory.
AEROSTATION.
. -osta-
■ i disco-
cd by
. ms,
! ntgol-
count o
cxperi
us.
periments on the subject. He first tried bladders} but
the thinnest of these, however well scraped and prepar¬
ed, were found too heavy. He then tried Chinese pa¬
per} but that proved so permeable, that the vapour
pased through it like water through a sieve. His ex¬
periments, therefore, made in the year 1782, proceeded
ho farther than blowing up soap bubbles with inflam¬
mable air, which ascended rapidly to the ceiling, and
broke against it.
But while the discovery of the art of aerostation
seemed thus on the point of being made in Britain, it
was all at once announced in France, and that from a
quarter whence nothing of the kind was to have been
expected. Two brothers, Stephen and John Mont¬
golfier, natives of Annonay, and masters of a consider¬
able paper manufactory there, had turned their thoughts
towards this project as early as the middle of the year
1782. The idea was first suggested by the natural
ascent of the smoke and clouds in the atmosphere*, and
their design was to form an artificial cloud, by enclosing
the smoke in a bag, and making it carry up the covex*-
ing along with it. Towards the middle of November
fthat year the experiment was made at Avignon with
a fine silk bag of a parallelopiped shape. By applying
burning paper to the lower aperture, the air was rare¬
fied, and the bag ascended in the atmosphere, and struck
rapidly against the ceiling. On repeating the experi¬
ment in the epen air, it rose to the height of about 70
feet.
An experiment on a more enlarged scale was now
projected } and a new machine, containing about 650
cubic feet was made, which broke the cords that con¬
fined it, and rose to the height of about 600 feet. An¬
other of 35 feet in diameter rose about 1000 feet
high, and fell to the ground three quarters of a mile
from the place where it ascended. A public exhibition
was next made on the 5th of June 1783, at Annonay,
where a vast number of spectators assembled. An im¬
mense bag of linen, lined with paper, and containing
upwards of 23,000 cubic feet, was found to have a
power of lifting about 500 pounds, including its own
weight. The operation was begun by burning chopped
straw and wool under the aperture of the machine,
which immediately began to swell: and after being set
at liberty ascended into the atmosphere. In ten mi¬
nutes it had ascended 6000 feet; and when its force
was exhausted, it fell to the ground at the distance of
7668 feet from the place from whence it set out.
Soon after this, one of the brothers arrived at Paris,
where he was invited by the Academy of Sciences to
repeat his experiments at their expence. In conse¬
quence of this invitation, he constructed, in a garden
in the fauxbourg of St Germain, a large balloon of an
elliptical form. In a preliminary experiment, this ma¬
chine lifted up from the ground eight persons who held
it, and would have carried them all off if more had not
quickly come to their assistance. Next day the expe¬
riment was repeated in presence of the members of the
academy } the machine rvas filled by the combustion of
50 pounds of straw made up in small bundles, upon
which about 12 pounds of chopped wool were thrown
at intervals. The usual success attended this exhi¬
bition : the machine soon swelled } endeavoured to as¬
cend ; and immediately after sustained itself in the air,
together with the charge of between 400 and 500
pounds weight. It was evident that it would have
ascended to a great height} but as it was designed to
repeated the experiment before the king and royal fa¬
mily at Versailles, the cords by which it was tied down
were not cut. But in consequence of a violent rain
and wind which happened at this time, the machine was
so far damaged, that it became necessary to prepare a
new one for the time that it had been determined to
honour the experiment with the royal presence } and
such expedition was used, that this vast machine, of
near 60 feet in height and 43 in diameter, was made,
painted with water colours both within and without,
and finely decorated, in no more than four days and
four nights. Along with this machine was sent upaSomeani-
wicker cage, containing a sheep, a cock, and a duck,ma*s sately
which were the-first animals ever sent through the at-^M^®
mosphere. The full success of the experiment was pre¬
vented by a violent gust of wind which tore the cloth
in two places near the top before it ascended } how¬
ever, it rose to the height of 1440 feet } and after re¬
maining in the air about eight minutes, fell to the
ground at the distance of 10,200 feet from the place
of its setting out. The animals were not in the least
hurt.
The great power of these aerostatic machines, and M. Pilatre
their very gradual descent in falling to the ground, hadde Rozier
originally showed that they were capable of transport-*!^ fast.a€*
ing people through the air with all imaginable safety }tor 0,4
and this was further confirmed by the experiment al¬
ready mentioned. As M. Montgolfier, therefore, pro¬
posed to make a new aerostatic machine of a firmer
and better construction than the former, M. Pilatre
de Rozier offered himself to be the first aerial adven¬
turer.
This new machine was constructed in a garden in
the fauxbourg of St Antoine. It was of an oval shape,
about 48 feet in diameter, and 74 in height, elegantly
painted on the outside with the signs of the zodiac,
cyphers of the king’s name, and other ornaments. A
proper gallery, grate, &c. were appended in the man¬
ner afterwards described } so that it was easy for the
person who ascended to supply the fire with fuel, and
thus keep up the machine as long as he pleased. The
weight of the whole apparatus was upwards of 1600
pounds. The experiment was performed on the 15th
of October 1783. M. Pilatre having placed himself Account of
in the gallery, the machine was inflated, and permit-^ diver¬
ted to ascend to the height of 84 feet, where he kept^
it afloat for about four minutes and a half: after
which he descended very gently : and such was its
tendency to ascend, that it rebounded to a considerable
height after touching the ground. Two days after,
he repeated the experiment with the same success as
before } but the wind being strong, the machine did
not sustain itself so well as formerly. On repeating
the experiment in calmer weather, he ascended to the
height of 210 feet. His next ascent was 262 feet}
and in the descent, a gust of wind having blown the
machine over some large trees of an adjoining garden,
M. Pilatre suddenly extricated himself from so dan¬
gerous a situation, by throwing some straw and chop¬
ped wool on the fire, which raised him at once to a
sufficient height. On descending again, he once more
raised himself to a proper height by throwing straw on
the fire. Some time after, he ascended in campany with
M. Girond
2l6
Montgol¬
fier’s ma¬
chines su¬
perseded
by those
filled with
inflamma¬
ble air.
Experi¬
ment of
Messrs
Charles
aad Ro¬
berts.
AEROSTATION.
M. Girond de Villette to the height of 330 feet j ho¬
vering over Paris at least nine minutes in sight of all
the inhabitants, and the machine keeping all the while
perfectly steady.
These experiments had shown, that the aerostatic
machines might be raised or lowered at the pleasure of
the persons who ascended : they had likewise discover¬
ed, that the keeping them fast with ropes was no
advantage 5 but, on the contrary, that this wras attend¬
ed with inconvenience and hazard. On the 21st of
November 1783, therefore, M. Pilatre determined to
undertake an aerial Voyage in which the machine
should be fully set at liberty. Every thing being got
in readiness, the balloon was filled in a few minutes ;
and M. Pilatre placed himself in the gallery, counter¬
poised by the marquis d’Arlandes, who occupied the
other side. It was intended to make some prelimina¬
ry experiments on the ascending power of the ma¬
chine ; but the violence of the wind prevented this
from being done, and even damaged the balloon es¬
sentially $ so that it would have been entirely destroy¬
ed had not timely assistance been given. The extra¬
ordinary exertions of the workmen, however, repaired
it again in two hours, and the adventurers set out.
They met with no inconvenience during their voyage,
which lasted about 25 minutes ; during which time
they had passed over a space of above five miles.—
From the account given by the marquis d’Arlandes,
it appears that they met with several different cur¬
rents of air j the effect of which was, to give a very
sensible shock to the machine, and the direction of the
motion seemed to be from the upper part downwards.
It appears also that they were in some danger of hav¬
ing the balloon burnt altogether; as the marquis ob¬
served several round holes made by the fire in the low¬
er part of it, which alarmed him considerably, and in¬
deed not without reason. However, the progress of
the fire was easily stopped by the application of a wet
sponge, and all appearance of danger ceased in a very
short time.
This voyage of M. Pilatre and the marquis d’Ar¬
landes may be said to conclude the history of those aez*o-
static machines which are elevated by means of fire 5 for
though many other attempts have been made upon the
same principle, most of them have either proved unsuc¬
cessful or were of little consequence. They have there¬
fore given place to the other kind filled with inflam¬
mable air {hydrogen gas} ; which, by reason of its small¬
er specific gravity, is both more manageable and ca¬
pable of performing voyages of greater length, as it does
not require to be supplied with fuel like the others. This
was invented a very short time after the discovery had
been made by M. Montgolfier. This gentleman had
indeed designed to keep his method in some degree a
secret from the world j but as it could not be conceal¬
ed, that a bag filled with any kind of fluid lighter than
the common atmosphere would rise in it, inflammable
air was naturally thought of as a proper succedaneum
for the rarefied air of M. Montgolfier. The first ex¬
periment was made by two brothers Messrs Roberts,
and M. Charles a professor of experimental philoso¬
phy. The bag which contained the gas was compos¬
ed of lutestring, varnished over with a solution of the
elastic gum called caoutchouc ; and that with which they
made their first essay was only about 13 English feet in
Histor
diameter. Many difficulties occurred in filling it with
the inflammable air, chiefly owing to their ignorance
of the proper apparatus j insomuch, that, after a whole
day’s labour from nine in the morning, they had got
the balloon only one-third part full. Next morning
they were surprised to find that it had fully inflated of
itself during the night 5 but, upon inquiry, it was found,In what I
that they had inadvertently left open a stop-cock con-manneri|
nected with the balloon, by which the common air gain-^j01^ I
ing access, had mixed itself with the inflammable air;e^m^'j
forming a compound still lighter than the common at-flateitse
mosphere, but not sufficiently light to answer the pur¬
poses of aerostation. Thus they were obliged to renew
their operation 5 and, by six o’clock in the evening of
next day, they found the machine considerably lighter
than the common air $ and, in an hour after, it made
a considerable effort to ascend. The public exhibition,
however, had been announced only for the third day
after; so that the balloon was allowed to remain in an
inflated state for a whole day j during which they found
it had lost a power of ascent equal to about three j,0M 0f |
pounds, being one-seventh part of the whole. When power itl
it was at last set at liberty, after having been well fill-their bai
ed with inflammable air, it was 35 pounds lighter than*0011,
an equal bulk of common air. It remained in the at¬
mosphere only three quarters of an hour, during which
it had traversed 15 miles. Its sudden descent was
supposed to have been owing to a rupture which had
taken place when it ascended into the higher regions of
the atmosphere.
The success of this experiment, and the aerial voy-Firstaer|
age made by Messrs Rozier and Arlandes, naturally v°yage ( j
suggested the idea of undertaking something of the j
same kind with a balloon filled with inflammable air.an(iRo- I
The machine used on this occasion was formed of gores belts,
of silk, covered over with a varnish made of caoutchouc,
of a spherical figure, and measuring 27I- feet in dia¬
meter. A net was spread over the upper hemisphere,
and was fastened to a hoop which passed round the
middle of the balloon. To this a sort of car, or ra¬
ther boat was suspended by ropes, in such a manner
as to hang a few feet below the lower part of the bal¬
loon : and, in order to prevent the bursting of the ma¬
chine, a valve was placed in it j by opening of which,
some of the inflammable air might be occasionally let
out. A long silken pipe communicated with the bal¬
loon, by means of which it was filled. The boat was
made of basket woi’k, covered with painted linen, and
beautifully ornamented j being 8 feet long, 4 broad,
and 3^- deep; its weight 130 pounds. At this time,
however, as at the former, they met with great difficul¬
ties in filling the machine with inflammable air, owing
to their ignorance of the most proper apparatus. But
at last, all obstacles being removed, the two adventur¬
ers took their seats at three quarters after one in the
afternoon of the first of December 1783. Persons
skilled in mathematics were conveniently stationed with
proper instruments to calculate the height, velocity,
&c. of the balloon. The weight of the whole appa¬
ratus, including that of the two adventurers, was found
to be 604^ pounds, and the power of ascent when they
set out was 20 pounds ; so that the whole difference
betwixt the weight of this balloon and an equal bulk
of common air was 624 pounds. But the weight of
common atmosphere displaced by the inflammable gas
was
istory. A E R O S
cific 'vas calculated to be pounds, so that there remains
vityof 147 for the weight of the latter; and this calculation
inflam- niakes it only 5^ times lighter than common air.
'first'*11 At the <ime the balloon left the ground, the ther-
jge, mometer stood at 590 of Fahrenheit’s scale ; and the
quicksilver in the barometer at 30.18 inches ; and, by
means of the power of ascent with which they left the
ground, the balloon rose till the mercury fell to 27
inches, from which they calculated their height to be
about 600 yards. By throwing out ballast occasional¬
ly as they found the machine descending by the
escape of some of the inflammable air, they found it
practicable to keep at pretty near the same distance
from the earth during the rest of their voyage; the
quicksilver fluctuating between 27 and 27.65 inches,
and the thermometer between 530 and 570, the whole
time. They continued in the air for the space of an
hour and three quarters, when they alighted at the
distance of 27 miles from Paris : having suffered no
inconvenience during their voyage, nor experienced
I any contrary currents of air, as had been felt by Mess,
^^‘l^'^ilatre and Arlandes. As the balloon still retained
self ^ a quantity of inflammable gas, M. Charles de¬
termined to take another voyage by himself. M.
Robert accordingly got out of the boat, which was
thus lightened by 130 pounds, and of consequence
the aerostatic machine now had nearly as much power
of ascent. Thus he was carried up with such velocity,
that in twenty minutes he was almost 9000 feet high,
and entirely out of sight of terrestrial objects. At
the moment of his parting with the ground, the
globe had been rather flaccid ; but it soon began to
swell, and the inflammable air escaped from it in great
quantity through the silken tube. He also frequent¬
ly drew the valve that it might be the more freely
emitted, and the balloon effectually prevented from
bursting. The inflammable gas being considerably
warmer than the external air, diffused itself all round,
and was felt like a warm atmosphere; but in ten mi¬
nutes the thermometer indicated a variation of tem¬
perature as great as that between the warmth of
a pain spring and the ordinary cold of winter. His fingers
l.saear were benumbed by the cold, and he felt a violent pain
iiTI in r*g^t ear and Jaw» which he ascribed to the di-
liigher Station of the air in these organs, as well as to the ex-
3ns, ternal cold. The beauty of the prospect which he
now enjoyed, however, made amends for these incon¬
veniences. At his departure the sun was set on the
valleys ; but the height to which M. Charles was got
in the atmosphere, rendered him again visible, though
only for a short time. He saw, for a few seconds, va¬
pours rising from the valleys and rivers. The clouds
seemed to ascend from the earth, and collect one upon
the other, still preserving their usual form ; only their
colour was gray and monotonous for want of sufficient
ious hght in the atmosphere. By the light of the moon,
1 and°^ Perceived that the machine was turning round with
es in ^ a‘r 5 an(l he observed that there were con-
e trary currents which brought him back again. He ob-
>ns. served also, with surprise, the effects of the wind, and
amers that the streamers of his banners pointed upwards ;
stand W^Ck’ *ie says’ cou^ not be the effect either of his
udT ascent or descent, as he was moving horizontally at the
time. At last, recollecting his promise of returning
to his friends in half an hour, he pulled the valve, and
Vol. I. Part I. 4.
T A T I O N. 21
accelerated his descent. When within 200 feet of the
earth, he threw out two or three pounds of ballast,
which rendered the balloon again stationary ; but, in
a little time afterwards, he gently alighted in a field
about three miles distant from the place whence he set
out; though, by making allowance for all the turnings
and windings of the voyage, he supposes that he had
gone through nine miles at least. By the calculations
of M. de Meunier, he rose at this time not less than
lo>500 feet high 5 a height somewhat greater than that
ol Mount /Etna. A small balloon, which had been
sent off before the two brothers set out on their voyage,
took a direction opposite to that of the large one, hav¬
ing met with an opposite current of air, probably at a
much greater height.
The subsequent aerial voyages differ so little from Attempts
that just now related, that any particular description ofto guide
them seems to be superfluous. It had occurred to Mraerostatic
Charles, however, in his last flight, that there might
a possibility of directing the machine in the atmo-),"OSj4iereil
sphere ; and this was soon attempted by M. Jean
Pierre Blanchard, a gentleman who had, for several
years before, amused himself with endeavours to fly by
mechanical means, though he had never succeeded in
the undertaking. As soon as the discovery of the ae¬
rostatic machines was announced, however, he resolved
to add the wings of his former machine to a balloon,
and made no doubt that it would then be in his power
to direct himself through the air at pleasure. In his Two first
first attempt he was frustrated by the impetuosity of a vo^a>’es ^
young gentleman, who insisted, right or wrong, on as-
cending along with him. In the scuffle which ensued
on this occasion, the wings and other apparatus were
entirely destroyed ; so that M. Blanchard was obliged
to commit himself to the direction of the wind ; and in
another attempt it was found, that all the strength he
could apply to the wings was scarce sufficient to coun¬
teract the impression of the wind in any degree. In
his voyage, he found his balloon, at a certain period,
acted upon by two contrary winds ; but, on throwing
out four pounds of ballast, he ascended to a place where
he met with the same current he had at setting out
from the earth. His account of the sensations be felt Hi's sensa*
during this voyage, was somewhat different from that fions while
of M. Charles ; having, in one part of it, found the at-
mosphere very warm, in another cold ; and having ' 1
once found himself very hungry, and at another time
almost overcome by a propensity to sleep. The height
to which he arose, as measured by several observations
with mathematical instruments, was thought to be very
little less than ic,000 feet ; and he remained in the
atmosphere an hour and a quarter.
The attempts of M. Blanchard to direct his machine Voyage ef
through the atmosphere, were repeated in the month ofMess. Mor-
April 1784 by Mess. Morveau and Bertrand, at Hi-Teauan^
jon, who raised themselves with an inflammable airt5erUtia'"
balloon to the height, as it was thought, of 13,000
feet; passing through a space of 18 miles in an hour
and 25 minutes. M. Morveau ha*l prepared a kind
of oars for directing the machine through the air; but
they were damaged by a gust of wind, so that only
two of them remained serviceable £ by working these,
however, they were able to produce a sensible effect
on the motion of the machine. In a third.aerial voy-Third voy¬
age performed by M. Blanchard, he seemed to pro- age of M.
E e duce blanchard^
2l8
Second
voyage of
Messrs
ning into
thunder
clouds.
A E R O S T
duce some effect by the agitation of his wings, both in
ascending, descending, moving sidewise, and even in
some measure against the wind however, this is sup¬
posed, with some probability, to have been a mistake,
as, in all his succeeding voyages, the effects of his ma¬
chinery could not be perceived.
The success of Messrs Charles and Robert in their
former experiments, encouraged them soon to repeat
Claries and them* with the addition of some machinery to direct
itobert. their course. Having enlarged their former balloon to
the size of an oblong spheroid 46-3- feet long and 27^
in diameter, they made it to float with its longest part
parallel to the horizon. The wings were made in the
shape of an umbrella without the handle, to the top of
which a stick was fastened parallel to the aperture of
the umbrella. Five of these were disposed round the
boat, which was near 17 feet in length. The balloon
was filled in three hours, and, with the addition of
450 pounds of ballast, remained in (equilibria with the
atmosphere. About noon, on the 19th of September
1784, they began to ascend very gently in consequence
of throwing out 24 pounds of ballast, but were soon
obliged to throw out eight pounds more, in order to
Are in dan- avoid running against some trees. Thus they rose to
gerofrun- height 0f 1400 feet, when they perceived some
thunder clouds near the horizon. On this they ascend¬
ed and descended, to avoid the danger, as the wind
blew directly towards the threatening clouds 5 but,
from the height of 600 feet to that of 4200 above the
surface of the earth, the current was quite uniform and
in one direction. During their voyage they lost one
of their oars j but found, that by means of those which
remained, they considerably accelerated their course.
From the account of their voyage, it would seem that
they had passed safely through the thunder clouds 5 as
we are informed, that, about 40 minutes after three,
they heard a loud clap of thunder; and three minutes
after, another much louder; at which time the ther¬
mometer sunk from 77 to 59 degrees. This sudden
cold, occasioned by the approach of the clouds, con¬
densed the inflammable air so that the balloon descend¬
ed very low, and they were obliged to throw out 40
Beat of the Pounds °f ballast*, yet on examining the heat of the
iir within air within the balloon, they found it to be 104°, when
that of the external atmosphere was only 63°. When
they had got so high that the mercury in the barome¬
ter stood only at 23.94 inches, they found themselves
becalmed ; so that the machine did not go even at the
rate of two feet in a second, though it had before gone
at the rate of 24 feet in a second. On this they de¬
termined to try the effect of their oars to the utmost 5
and, by working them for 35 minutes, and marking
the shadow of the balloon on the ground, they found,
in that time, that they had described the segment of
an ellipsis whose longest diameter was 6000 feet. Af¬
ter having travelled about 150 miles, they descended,
only on account of the approach of night, having still
200 pounds of ballast left.
Their conclusion, with regard to the effect of their
wings, is as follows : “ Those experiments show, that
far from going against the wind, as is said by some
persons to be possible in a certain manner, and some
aeronauts pretend to have actually done, we only ob¬
tained, by means of two oars, a deviation of 22 de¬
grees : it is certain, however, that if we could have
3
their bal¬
loon.
Effect of
their oats
in moving
the ma¬
chine.
A T I O N. History
used our four oars, we might have deviated about 40
degrees from the direction of the wind ; and as our ma¬
chine would have been capable of carrying seven per¬
sons, it would have been easy for five persons to have
gone, and to have put in action eight oars, by means of
which a deviation of about 80 degrees would have been
obtained.
“ We have already observed (say they), that if we
did not deviate more than 22 degrees, it was because
the wind carried us at the rate of 24 miles an hour j
and it is natural to judge, that it the wind had been
twice as strong as it was, we should not have devia¬
ted more than one-half of wdiat we actually did;
and on the contrary, if the wind had been only half
as strong, our deviation would have been proportion-
ably greater.”
Having thus related all that has been done with re- Confman
gard to the conducting of aerostatic machines through ces used|
the atmosphere, we shall now relate the attempts that
have been made to lessen their expence, by falling upon flanmiah|.
some contrivance to ascend without throwing out bal-afc.
last, and to descend without losing any of the inflam¬
mable air. The first attempt of this kind was made Voyage 0
by the duke de Chartres •, who, on the 15th of July the duke
1784, ascended with the two brothers, Roberts, and
fourth person, from the park of St Cloud. The balloon
was of an oblong form, made to ascend with its longest
diameter horizontally, and measured 55 ^ee*- *n length
and 24 in breadth. It contained within it a smaller
balloon filled with common air j by blowing into which
with a pair of bellows, and thus throwing in a consi¬
derable quantity of common air, it was supposed that
the machine would become sufficiently heavy to de¬
scend, especially, as, by the inflation of the internal bag,
the inflammable air in the external one would be con¬
densed into a smaller space, and thus become specifically
heavier. The voyage, however, was attended with
such circumstances as rendered it impossible to know
what would have been the event of the scheme. The
power of ascent with which they set out, seems to have
been very great 5 as, in three minutes after parting with
the ground, they were lost in the clouds, and involved Is hn°l'
in such a dense vapour that they could see neither thel^^J
skv nor the earth. In this situation they seemed to be an(j at.
attacked by a whirlwind, which, besides turning the tacked b
balloon three times round from right to left, shocked a whirl-
and beat it so about, that they W'ere rendered incapablewm '
of using any of the means proposed for directing their
course, and the silk stuff of which the helm had been
composed was even torn away. No scene can he con¬
ceived more terrible than that in which they were now
involved. An immense ocean of shapeless clouds rolled
one upon another below them, and seemed to prevent
any return to the earth, which still continued invisible,
while the agitation of the balloon became greater every
moment. In this extremity they cut the cords which
held the interior balloon, and of consequence it fell
down upon the aperture of the tube that came from
the large balloon into the boat, and stopped it up.
They were then driven upwards by a gust of wind from
below, which carried them to the top of that stormy
vapour in which they had been involved. They now
saw the sun without a cloud ', but the heat of his rays,
with the diminished density of the atmosphere, had such
an effect on the inflammable air, that the balloon seemed
every
2
AEROSTATION.
I story.
every moment ready to burst. To prevent this, they
introduced a stick through the tube, in order to push
away the inner balloon from its aperture j but the ex¬
pansion of the inflammable air pushed it so close, that
all attempts of this kind proved ineffectual. It was
now, however, become absolutely necessary to give vent
to a very considerable quantity of the inflammable air;
for which purpose the duke de Chartres himself bored
two holes in the balloon, which tore open for the length
of seven or eight feet. On this they descended with
great rapidity ; and would have fallen into a lake, had
they not hastily thrown out 60 pounds of ballast, which
enabled them just to reach the water’s edge.
The success of the scheme for raising or lowering
aerostatic machines by means of bags filled with com¬
mon air being thus rendered dubious, another method
was thought of. This was to put a small aerostatic
machine with rarefied air under an inflammable air
balloon, but at such a distance that the inflammable air
of the latter might be perfectly out of the reach of the
fire used for inflating the former j and thus, by increas¬
ing or diminishing the fire in the small machine, the
absolute weight of the whole would be considerably di-
I ortu- minished or augmented. The scheme was unhappily
r voy" put in execution by the celebrated M. Pilatre de Eozier,
“9df and another gentleman named M. Romaine. Their
ssrs Ro-inflammable air balloon was about 37 feet in diameter,
and and the power of the rarefied air one was equivalent to
uaine. about 60 pounds. They ascended without any appear¬
ance of danger or sinister accident: but had not been
long in the atmosphere when the inflammable air bal¬
loon was seen to swell very considerably, at the same
time that the aeronauts were observed, by means of te¬
lescopes, very anxious to get down, and busied in pull¬
ing the valve and opening the appendages to the bal¬
loon, in order to facilitate the escape of as much in¬
flammable air as possible. A short time after this the
whole machine was on fire, when they had then attain¬
ed the height of about three quarters of a mile from
the ground. No explosion was heard •, and the silk
which composed the air balloon continued expanded,
and seemed to resist the atmosphere for about a minute ;
after which it collapsed, and the remains of the appa¬
ratus descended along with the two unfortunate travel¬
lers so rapidly, that both of them were killed. M. Pi¬
latre seemed to have been dead before he came to the
ground 5 but M. Romaine was alive when some persons
came up to the place where he lay, though he expired
immediately after.
These are the most remarkable attempts that have
been made to improve the science of aerostation; though
a great number of other expeditions through the at-
a?eof mosphere have taken place. But of all the voyages
iiehard ha(l been bitberto projected or put in execution,
Jeffries the most daring was that of M. Blanchard and Dr
«9 the Jeffries across the straits of Dover, which separate
!ts of Britain from France. This took place on the 7th of
er' January 1785, being a clear frosty morning with a
wind, barely perceptible, at N. N. W. The operation
of filling the balloon began at 10 o’clock, and, at three
quarters after 12, every thing was ready for their de¬
parture. At one o’clock M. Blanchard desired the
boat to be pushed off, which now stood only two feet
distant from that precipice so finely described by Shake¬
speare in his tragedy of King Lear. As the balloon
was scarcely sufficient to carry two, they were obliged
to throw out all their ballast except three bags of 10
pounds each 5 when they at last rose gently j though
making very little way on account of there being so
little wind. At a quarter after one o’clock, the ba¬
rometer, which on the cliff stood at 29.7 inches, was
now fallen to 27-3j and the weather proved fine and
warm. They had now a most beautiful prospect of
the south coast of England, and were able to count
37 villages upon it. After passing over several ves¬
sels, they found that the balloon, at 50 minutes after
one, was descending, on which they threw out a sack
and a half of ballast; but as they saw that it still de¬
scended, and with much greater velocity than be¬
fore, they now threw out all the ballast. This still
proving ineffectual, they next threw out a parcel of
books they carried along with them, which made the
balloon ascend, when they were about midway between
France and England. At a quarter past two, finding
themselves again descending, they threw away the re¬
mainder of their books, and, ten minutes after, they
had a most enchanting view of the French coast. Still,
however, the machine descended 5 and as they had
now no more ballast, they were obliged to throw
away their provisions, the wings of their boat, and e-
very thing they could possibly spare. “ We threw away
(says Dr Jeffries') our only bottle, which, in its de¬
scent cast out a steam like smoke, with a rushing noise j
and when it struck the water, we heard and felt the
shock very perceptibly on our car and balloon.” All
this proving insufficient to stop the descent of the bal¬
loon, they next threw out their anchors and cords,
and at last stripped off their clothes, fastening them¬
selves to certain slings, and intending to cut away the
boat as their last resource. They had now the satisfac¬
tion, however, to find that they were rising j and as
they passed over the high lands betwreen Cape Blanc
and Calais the machine rose very fast, and carried them
to a greater height than they had been at any former
part of their voyage. They descended safely among
some trees in the forest of Guiennes, where there was
just opening enough to admit them.
It would be tedious as well as unnecessary to recount
all the other aerial voyages that have been performed
in our own or other countries : It appeared sufficient
for the purpose of this article to notice those which
were most remarkable and interesting j and therefore
an account of the ingenious Mr Baldwin’s excursion
from Chester, alluded to above, must not be omitted in
our enumeration.
On the 8th of September 1785, at forty minutes pastijajjw;n
one P. M. Mr Baldwin ascended from Chester in Mr voyage.
Lunardi’s balloon. After traversing in a variety of
different directions, he first alighted, at 28 minutes
after three, about twelve miles from Chester, in the
neighbourhood of Frodsham$ then reascending and
pursuing his excursion, he finally landed at Rixton
moss, five miles N. N. E. of Wavington, and 25 miles
from Chester. Mr Baldwin has published his Observa¬
tions and remarks made during his voyage, and taken
from minutes. Our limits will not admit of relating
many of his observations } but the few following are
some of the most important and curious. “ The sensa-
sation of ascending is compared to that of a strong
pressure from the bottom of the car upwards against
E e 2 the
220
A E R 0 S 1
the soles of his feet. At the distance of what appeared
to him seven miles from the earth, though by the ba¬
rometer scarcely a mile and a half, he had a grand and
most enchanting view of the city of Chester and its
View from adjacent places below. The river .Dee appeared of a
the balloon. rej colour •, the city very diminutive ; and the town
entirely blue. The whole appeared a perfect plain,
the highest building having no apparent height, hut
reduced all to the same level $ and the whole terrestrial
prospect appeared like a coloured map. Just after his
first ascent, being in a well watered and maritime part
of the country, he observed a remarkable and regular
tendency of the balloon towards the sea 5 but shortly
after rising into another current of air, he escaped the
danger : this upper current, he says, was visible to him
at the time of his ascent, by a lofty sound stratum of
clouds flying in a safe direction. The perspective ap¬
pearance of things to him was very remarkable. The
Appear- lowest bed of vapour that first appeared as cloud was
ance of the j)Ure white, in detached fleeces, increasing as they
clo,>ds. rose : they presently coalesced, and formed, as he ex¬
presses it, a sea of cotton, tufting here and there by
the action of the air. In the undisturbed part of the
clouds, the whole became an extended white floor
of cloud, the upper surface being smooth and even.
Above this white floor he observed, at great and un¬
equal distances, a vast assemblage of thunder clouds,
each parcel consisting of whole acres in the densest
form : he compares their form and appearance to the
smoke of pieces of ordnance, which had consolidated as
it were into masses of snow, and penetrated through the
upper surface or white floor of common clouds, there
remaining visible and at rest, feipme clouds had mo¬
tions in slow and various directions, forming an appear¬
ance truly stupendous and majestic.” He endeavours
to convey some idea of the scene by a figure $ (and from
this fig. 1. Plate II. is copied). A represents a cir¬
cular view he had from the car of the balloon, himself
being over the centre of the view, looking down on
the white floor of clouds, and seeing the city of Chester
through an opening, which discovered the landscape be¬
low, limited by surrounding vapour to less than two
miles in diameter. The breadth of the outer margin
defines his apparent height in the balloon (viz. 4 miles)
above the white floor of clouds. Mr Baldwin also gives
a curious description of his tracing the shadow of the
balloon over tops of volumes of clouds. At first it
was small, in size and shape like an egg j bat soon in¬
creased to the magnitude of the sun’s disc, still grow¬
ing larger, and attended with a most captivating ap¬
pearance of an iris encircling the whole shadow at some
distance round it, the colours of which were remarkably
brilliant. The regions did not feel colder, but rather
warmer than below. The sun was hottest to him when
the balloon was stationary. The discharge of a can¬
non, when the balloon was at a considerable height,
was distinctly heard by the aeronaut; and a discharge
from the same piece, when at the height of thirty yards,
so disturbed him as to oblige him for safety to lay hold
firmly of the cords of the balloon. At a considerable
height he poured down a pint bottle full of water ; and
as the air did not oppose a resistance sufficient to break
the steam into small particles, it mostly fell down in
large drops. In the course of the balloon’s track it was
found much affected by the water (a circumstance ob-
k
ATI ON. History
served in former aerial voyages). At one time the
direction of the balloon kept continually over the wa¬
ter, going directly towards the sea, so much as to en¬
danger the aeronaut; the mouth of the balloon was
opened, and in two minutes he descended into an under
current blowing from the sea : he kept descending, and
landed at Bellair farm in Kinsley, 12 miles from Chester.
Here he lightened his car by 31 pounds, and instantly
reascending, was carried into the interior part of the
country, performing a number of difl’erent manoeuvres.
At his greatest altitude he found his respiration free
and easy. Several bladders which he had along with
him crackled and expanded very considerably. Clouds
and land, as before, appeared on the same level. By
way of experiment, he tried the upper valve two or
three times, the neck of the balloon being close : and
remarked, that the escape of the gas was attended with
a. growling noise like millstones, but not near so loud.
Again, round the shadow of the balloon, on the clouds
he observed the iris. A variety of other circumstances
and appearances he met with, is fancifully described 5
and at 53 minutes past three he finally landed.
The following is an account of an establishment
formed in France during the late war for the impx-ove-
ment of aerial navigation :
“ The aerostatic institute, founded by the commit-Aerostatb
tee of public safety, and enveloped in the most pro-inst*tuteil
found secrecy at Meudon, to which also was added atrance‘ I
camp for the exercise of the artillery, is even yet
looked upon as a secret arrangement of the repub¬
lic, respecting which the greatest precautions are
taken j the doors being shut against the public and all
foreigners.
It was impossible to have selected a more convenient
spot for the establishment of the aeronautic institute
than the royal lodge of Meudon. From its elevated
site on a mountain, it commands a beautiful and exten¬
sive prospect over a plain covered with villages and cul¬
tivated fields, intersected by the Seine, and terminated
by the city of Paris.
The perfection and the rational application of aero-Pbj«clscJ
nautics are the objects of the labours of this establish-lt#
ment, to which the celebrated natural philosopher Guy¬
ton Morveau has in particular rendered the most import¬
ant services. But the institution stood in need of such a
director as Conte, for whom Guyton Morveau has pro¬
cured the appointment. "With a love of the science
Conte unites a penetrating genius for research and in¬
vention, accompanied by indefatigable assiduity.
The corps of aeronauts, intended to serve in the ar-Emp!oj- |
mies of the republic, and consisting of fifty courageous ment of^!l
youths, is trained at the school of Meudon : it is there PuPik
the balloons are prepared which are sent off to the ar¬
mies j and every day in summer the pupils are em¬
ployed, at one time in performing their exercises, at
another in making researches, in natural philosophy,
with a balloon which is kept constantly filled for the
purpose.
The improvement in the preparation of the balloon,
the discovery of a new mode of filling it with inflam¬
mable air from the substance of water (hydrogen gas),
discovered by Lavoisier, the invention of a new tele¬
graph, connected with the balloon, are the principal
advances which have been made in aerostatics at Meu¬
don under the direction of Conte.
Tha
2?;i
] [story.
A E E O S
The old lodge of Meudon serves as a manufactory
for the preparation of the balloons, and of all the ap¬
paratus necessary to accompany them to the armies.
The new lodge is appropriated to the institute, and to
the accommodation of the pupils, and of the director and
his family. There were prepared the Enlreprenant for
the army of the north, by means of which the hostile
army was reconnoitered at the battle of Fieurus 5 the
Celeste for the army of the Sambre and Maese; the Her*
culs and the Intrepide for the army of the Rhine and
Moselle.
The silk for the balloons is manufactured at Lyons.
''c and is very thick and strong: and Conte has rendered
them much more durable by the precaution of only var¬
nishing the outer surface. The varnish is of an excel¬
lent quality j it sufficiently hardens the outside, and
does not make the silk stick together when the balloon
is folded. Moreover, experience has proved that the
inner coat of varnish cannot resist the operation of fil¬
ling the balloon, that it is corroded by the gas, and
that this friction renders the silk flabby.
The filling of the balloon with hydrogen gas is the
result of the discoveries made by the great Lavoisier,
and has for its basis his important experiment of the de¬
composition of water. The gas is prepared by the fol¬
lowing simple and unexpensive process.
‘ ?a,> gjx or inore hollow iron cylinders are set in brick
work, beside and over each other, in a furnace which
may be constructed in twelve hours $ and both ends of
each cylinder are made to project from the furnace.
The openings of these cylinders are stopped with strong
iron covers, through which metal tubes are let in.
The tube at one end serves for pouring water, pre¬
viously heated, into the cylinders when red hot 5 that
on the opposite side is destined to conduct the air which
first presents itself, through a reservoir filled with a
caustic lixivium, and to convey it into the balloon.
The cylinders are partly filled with coarse iron filings,
which the excessive heat of the furnace, kept up with
pit coal during the whole time of the operation, re¬
duces to a state of excandescence. At this stage of
the process, the valve of one of the tubes of each cy¬
linder is opened, and a small quantity of boiling wa¬
ter is gently poured into the heated cylinder. As soon
as the vapour of the water touches the heated iron, the
two substances which compose the water are separated:
the one (the oxygen) attaches itself to the iron, which
it calcines, and which after the operation, is found
partly crystallized, after the manner of volcanic pro¬
ductions : the other of the component substances of
the water (the hydrogen) combines with a quantity of
the igneous substance termed colorique, and becomes
inflammable air (hydrogen gas), which continues in a
permanent state of elastic fluidity, and weighs seven or
eight times less than the atmospheric air.
As the water contains a small portion of the sub¬
stance of carbone {carbonique) which would render the
air in the balloon heavy, the air, as it first rushes out
of the cylinders, is made to pass through a reservoir of
water impregnated with a caustic alkali. This fluid
attracts to itself all the carbanique, and nothing rises
into the balloon but very pure and inflammable air.
During the operation, it has sometimes happened
that the cylinders, heated to excandesence, melted. To
guard against this accident, the projecting end of the
T A T I O N.
cylinder is furnished with a pyrometer, and a scale,
which, by means of an iron rod, indicates the degrees
of rarefaction of the air. A particular point on the
scale announces the moment when the cylinders are'
heated in the degree nearest to fusion : when such is-
the case, the fire is immediately diminished. The ope¬
ration of filling a balloon of thirty feet diameter employs
one-third of a day.
1 he exercising balloon at Meudon is of a spherical
form, and thirty-two feet in diameter. Jts upper half
is covered with a linen case to keep off the rain from
the balloon and its netting. This netting, woven with
strong cords, embraces the upper part of the balloon,
and is destined to support the car for the reception of
the aeronauts. The balloon, kept constantly full and
ready for ascent, and exposed in the open air in all
weathers, preserves its buoyant station in the atmo¬
sphere, being fastened on the great terrace of the lodge.
When the weather is favourable, the aeronautic exer¬
cises are begun. The balloon is set free from its fast-Exercises
enings, and elevated to a certain height j when the of the
car is made fast to the cords which hang down from P«pds.
the net : the whole of this is done in five minutes. A
colonel then mounts the car with one of the pupils,
and the balloon rises to the height, generally, of from
a hundred and sixty to two hundred and forty yards,
ihe pupils separate into divisions, for the purpose of
holding the balloon in the air, suffering it to mount,
and drawing it down, by means of three principal
ropes fastened to the net, and ramified with several
others : in these manceuvres they employ the aid of a
capstern. When the balloon has been newly filled,
has yet suffered no evaporation, and still retains all its
force, it requires the strength of twenty persons to
hold it 5 and in that state it will bear eight hundred
weight. After a space of two months, though much
evaporated, it is still capable of bearing two persons
with their instruments, and even a considerable ballast^
at the same height in the air: but then ten persons are *
sufficient to hold it.
The car is constructed of alight lattice work ofFor,«of^«
wood, lined with prepared leather, and hangs aboutcar*
sixteen feet beneath the balloon : it affords convenient
room for two persons seated opposite each other, with
the necessary instruments for making observations.
The balloon ascends as often in the day as is requi¬
site for the succession of observations which are to be
made 5 but these ascents take place only in calm and se¬
rene weather. Whenever any unforeseen accident oc¬
curs, the aerial machine is hauled down in five mi¬
nutes. In strong gusts of wind which suddenly arise,
the aeronauts are always exposed to some danger: the
balloon, held by the ropes, cannot rise freely ; and its
vibrations and fluctuations resemble those of a paper
kite which has not yet reached a certain degree of al¬
titude. This spectacle, nevertheless, is more terrific
to the spectator than to the aeronaut, who, seated in
his car, w’hich its own weight preserves in a perpendi¬
cular position under the balloon, is but slightly affected
by its desultory motion. No instance of any unfortu¬
nate accident has yet occurred at Meudon.
All fear, all idea of danger, vanishes on examining
the solidity of the whole apparatus, the precautionary
measures adopted with the most prudent foresight and
the utmost security, and especially when we are more
particularly
222
A E R O S T
particularly acquainted with the cool unassuming stea¬
diness of Conte, the director of the whole.
When the return of peace shall allow more leisure,
and shall favour the employment of this apparatus in
other experiments than those immediately connected
with the military service, we may expect to derive
from it the most important and diversified advantages
to natural science. The experiments will then be con¬
ducted under the direction of a committee of natura¬
lists from the national institute, with a view of making
discoveries in natural philosophy, meteorology, and
Utility of other branches. When the labours of the aerostatic
aerostatic institute shall have accomplished ends so important to
expen- j.j]e arj.gj an(j 0f so great general utility, there will be
printed a particular account of the establishment, and
of the course of experiments pursued : at present, these
matters are kept from the knowledge of the public.
Aerostatic The most recent invention of Conte, admirable for
telegraph, its simplicity and precision, is the aerostatic telegraph.
It consists of eight cylinders of varnished black silk,
stretched on hoops, and resembling those little pocket
lanterns of crimped paper, which draw out and fold
' down again on themselves. These eight moveable cy¬
linders, each three feet in diameter, and of a propor¬
tionate length, are suspended from the bottom of the
car, connected together with cords, and hanging one
above another, at the distance of four feet. By means
of cords passing through the bottom of the car, the ae¬
ronautic observers direct those cylinders, give them dif¬
ferent positions at will, and thus carry on their telegra¬
phic correspondence from the regions of the air.
Conte has further applied his thoughts to the inven¬
tion of a similar aerostatic telegraph, which, without
the assistance of a great balloon, or an aerial corres¬
pondent, should be managed by a person standing on
the ground, by means of cords; the apparatus being
suspended to a small balloon, of only twelve feet di¬
ameter.
Ascent of a Coutel, captain of the aeronautic corps, was the man
balloon at who ascended with the Entreprenant balloon on the
the battle of 26th of June, 1794, and who conducted the wonder-
cuius. an)j imp0rtant service of reconnoitring the hostile
armies at the battle of Fleurus, accompanied by an ad¬
jutant and a general. He ascended twice on that day,
to observe, from an elevation of four hundred and
forty yards, the position and manoeuvres of the enemy.
On each occasion he remained four hours in the air,
and, by means of preconcerted signals with flags, carried
on a correspondence with General Jourdan, the com¬
mander of the French army.
His intended ascent had been made known to the
enemy, who, at the moment when the balloon began
to take its flight, opened the fire of a battery against
the aeronauts. The first volley was directed too low :
one ball, nevertheless, passed between the balloon and
the car, and so near to the former, that Coutel ima¬
gined it had struck it. When the subsequent discharges
were made, the balloon had already reached such a de¬
gree of altitude, as to be beyond the reach of cannon
shot, and the aeronauts saw the balls flying beneath
the car. Arrived at their intended height, the ob¬
servers, remote from danger, and undisturbed, viewed
all the evolutions of their enemies, and, from the peace¬
ful regions of the air, commanded a distinct and com-
A T I O N. Histon
prehensive prospect of two formidable armies engaged
in the work of death.” {Month. Mag. vol. vi. p. 337.).
On the 28th of June 1802, M. Garnerin, a French Garnerin'
aeronaut, in company with an English gentleman, as-voyage ini
cended in a balloon of 20 feet diameter from Ranelagh
gardens. They passed over London, rose to the height
of 10,000 feet, and landed in three quarters of an hour <jity] * ^
from the time of their ascent on a common near Col¬
chester, a distance of near 60 miles from London. The
temperature of the air when they ascended to the clouds
was 15 degrees lower than on the surface of the earth ;
but when they rose above the clouds, it became sensi¬
bly milder. The rapidity of M. Garnerin’s voyage is
unequalled in the history of aerostation.
The frequency of aerial voyages, accompanied with Uses ofaii
particular details of trifling and uninteresting circum-1051^015-
stances, and apparently made with a view to promote
the interests of particular persons, regardless of any ad¬
vancement in knowledge, had sunk the science of aero¬
station so low in the opinion of most people, that before
we give an account of the most proper methods of con¬
structing these machines, it is necessary to premise
something concerning the uses to which they may pos¬
sibly be applied. These, according to Mr Cavallo, are
the following :—
“ The small balloons, especially those made of paper,
and raised by means of spirit of wine, may serve to ex¬
plore the direction of the winds in the upper regions of
the atmosphere, particularly when there is a calm
below ; they may serve for signals in various circum¬
stances, in which no other means can be used ; and
letters or other small things may be easily sent by them,
as for instance from ships that cannot safely land on
account of storms, from besieged places, islands, or the
like. The larger aerostatic machines may answer all
the above mentioned purposes in a better manner; and
they may, besides, be used as a help to a person who
wants to ascend a mountain, a precipice, or to cross a
river j and perhaps one of these machines tied to a boat
by a long rope, may be, in some cases, a better sort of
sail than any that is used at present. The largest sort
of machines, which can take up one or more men, may
evidently be subservient to various economical and phi¬
losophical purposes. Their conveying people from
place to place with great swfiftness, and without trouble,
may be of essential use, even if the art of guiding them
in a direction different from that of the wind should
never be discovered. By means of those machines the
shape of certain seas and lands may be better ascertain¬
ed } men may ascend to the tops of mountains they
never visited before 5 they may be carried over marshy
and dangerous grounds j they may by that means come
out of a besieged place, or an island 5 and they may, in
hot climates, ascend to a cold region of the atmosphere,
either to refresh themselves, or to observe the ice,
which is never seen below j and, in short, they may be
thus taken to several places, to which human art hither¬
to knew of no conveyance.
“ The philosophical uses, to which these machines
may be subservient, are numerous indeed : and it may
be sufficient to say, that hardly any thing which passes
in the atmosphere is known with precision, and that
principally for want of a method of ascending into it.
The formation of rain, of thunder storms, «f vapours,
hail,
inciples. A E R O S
liail, snow, and meteors in general, require to be atten¬
tively examined and ascertained. The action of the
barometer, the refraction and temperature of the air in
various regions, the descent of bodies, the propagation
of sound, &c. are subjects which all require a series of
observations and experiments, the performance of which
could never have been properly expected before the dis¬
covery of aerostatic machines.”
To these uses we may add the gratification of curio¬
sity and pleasure, as a very strong inducement to the
practice of an art, in which, with any tolerable degree
of caution, there appears not to be the smallest danger.
Every one who has tried the experiment testifies, that
the beauty of the prospect afforded by an ascent, or
the pleasure of being conveyed through the atmosphere,
cannot be exceeded. No one has felt the least of that
giddiness consequent upon looking from the top of a
very high building or of a precipice, nor have they any
of the sickness arising from the motion of a vessel at
sea. Many have been carried by balloons at the rate
of 30, 40, or even 50 miles an hour, without feeling
the least inconvenience, or even agitation of the wind 5
the reason of which is, that as the machine moves with
nearly the velocity of the wind itself, they are always
in a calm, and without uneasiness. Some have appre¬
hended danger from the electricity of the atmosphere 5
and have thought, that a stroke of lightning, or the
smallest electric spark, happening near a balloon, might
set fire to the inflammable air, and destroy both the
machine and the adventurers. Mr Cavallo has sug¬
gested several considerations for diminishing apprehen¬
sions of this kind. Balloons have been already raised
in every season of the year, and even when thunder has
been heard, without injury. In case of danger, the
aeronauts may either descend to the earth, or ascend
above the region of the clouds and thunder storms.
Besides, as balloons are formed of materials that are
not conductors of electricity, they are not like to receive
strokes, especially as by being encompassed with air,
they stand insulated. Moreover, inflammable air by
itself, or unmixed with a certain quantity of common
air, will not burn ; so that if an electric spark should
happen to pass through the balloon, it would not set fire
to the inflammable air, unless a hole was made in the
covering.
The general principles of aerostation are so little
different from those of hydrostatics, that it may seem
superfluous to insist much upon them. It is a fact
universally known, that when a body is immersed in any
fluid, if its weight be less than an equal bulk of that
fluid, it will rise to the surface j but if heavier, it wdll
sink ; and if equal, it will remain in the place where it
is left. For this reason smoke ascends into the atmo¬
sphere, and heated air in that which is colder. The
ascent of the latter is Shown in a very easy and satisfac¬
tory manner by bringing a red-hot iron under one of
ted air. the scales of a balance, by which the latter is instantly
made to ascend ; for as soon as the red-hot iron is
brought under the scale, the hot air being lighter than
that which is colder, ascends, and strikes the bottom,
which is thus impelled upwards, and the opposite scale
descends, as if a weight had been put into it.
Upon this simple principle depends the whole theo¬
ry of aerostation *, for it is the same thing whether we
render the air lighter by introducing a quantity of
nciples
icrosta.
:)en-
its
wing
im-
>e of
T A T I O N. 223
heat into it, or enclosing a quantity of gas specifically
lighter than the common atmosphere in a certain space ;
both will ascend, and for the same reason. A cubic
foot of air, by the most accurate experiments, lias been
found to weigh about 554 grains, and to be expand¬
ed by every degree of heat, marked on Fahrenheit’s
thermometer, about Pai't °f tta whole. By
heating a quantity of air, therefore, to 500 degrees
of Fahrenheit, we shall just double its bulk when the
thermometer stands at 54 in the open air, and in the
same proportion we shall diminish its weight ; and if
such a quantity of this hot air be enclosed in a bag,
that the excess of the weight of an equal bulk of com¬
mon air weighs more than the bag with the air con¬
tained in it, both the bag and air will rise into the at¬
mosphere, and continue to do so until they arrive at a
place where the external air is naturally so much rare¬
fied that the weight becomes equal: and here the whole
will float.
The power of hot air in raising weights, or rather
that by which it is itself impelled upwards, may be
shown in the following manner: Roll up a sheet of
paper into a conical form, and, by thrusting a pin in¬
to it near the apex, prevent it from unrolling. Fasten
it then, by its apex, under one of the scales of a ba¬
lance by means of a thread, and, having properly coun¬
terpoised it by weights, put it into the opposite scale j
apply the flame of a candle underneath, you will in¬
stantly perceive the cone to arise, and it will not be
brought into equilibrium with the other but by a much
greater weight than those who have never seen the ex¬
periment would believe. If w’e try this experiment
with more accuracy, by getting proper receptacles
made which contain determinate quantities of air, we
shall find that the power of the heat depends much
more on the capacity of the bag which contains it than
could well be supposed. Thus, let a cubical recep¬
tacle be made of a small wooden frame covered with
paper, capable of containing one foot of air, and let the
power of a candle be tried with this as above directed
for the paper cone. It will then be found that a cer¬
tain weight may be raised $ but a much greater one will
be raised by having a receptacle of the same kind which
contains two cubic feet \ a still greater by one of three
feet; a yet greater by one of four feet, &c. and this
even though the very same candle be made use of $ nor
is it known to what extent even the power of this small „
flame might be carried.
From these experiments it appears, that in the aero-Rarefied
static machines constructed on Montgolfier’s plan, itairbal-
must be an advantage to have them as large as possible • loons ought
because a smaller quantity of fire will then have a great- as
er effect in raising them, and the danger from that ele-p0SSii3]Qi
ment, which in this kind of machine is chiefly to be
dreaded, will be in a great measure avoided. On this How bal-
subject it may be remarked, that as the cubical con-*?ons "“gh*
tents of a globe, or any other figure of which balloons
are made, increase much more rapidly than their sur-]ieat 0f
faces, there must ultimately be a degree of magnitude the ainjos-
at which the smallest imaginable heat would raise anyphere.
weight whatever. Thus, supposing any aerostatic ma¬
chine capable of containing 500 cubic feet, and the air
within it to be only one degree hotter than the exter¬
nal atmosphere j the tendency of this machine to rise,
even without the application of artificial heat, would
be,-
224
A balloon
at Dijon
rises thus
into the at
inospliere.
Internal
heat of the
balloons
has great
influence
on aerial
voyages.
A E R O S T
be near an ounce. Let its capacity be increased 16
times } and the tendency to arise will be equivalent to
a pound, though this may he done without making
the machine 16 times heavier than before. It is cer¬
tain, however, that all aerostatic machines have a ten¬
dency to produce or preserve heat within them, which
would by no means be imagined by those who have
not made the experiment. When Messrs Charles and
Koberts made their longest aerial voyage of 150 milesj
thdy had the curiosity to try the temperature of the air
within their balloon, in comparison with that of the
external atmosphere; and at this time they found,
that when the external atmosphere was 63°, the ther¬
mometer within the balloon stood at 104°. Such a
difference of temperature must have given a machine
of the magnitude which carried them a considerable
ascending power independent of any other cause, as it
amounted to 41 grains on every cubic foot; and there¬
fore in a machine containing 50,000 such feet would
have been almost 200 pounds. Hence rve may easily
account for what happened at Dijon, and is recorded
by M. Morveau. “ A balloon, intended to he filled
with inflammable air, being completed, was, by way of
trial, filled with common air, and in that state exposed
to the atmosphere. Now it was observed, and indeed
a similar observation had been made before, that the
air within the balloon was much hotter than the cir¬
cumambient air ; the thermometer in the former stood
at 120°; whereas in the latter, even when the sun
shone upon it, the thermometer stood at 84°. This
showed a considerable degree of rarefaction within the
balloon; and consequently it was suspected, that, by
means of this rarefaction alone, especially if it were to
increase a little, the balloon might ascend. On the
30th of May, about noon, the wind being rather
strong, agitated the balloon so that two men were em¬
ployed to take care of it; hut, notwithstanding all
their endeavours, it escaped from its confinement; and,
lifting up about 65 pounds weight of cords, equatorial
circle, &c. rose many feet high, and passing over some
houses, went to the distance of 250 yards, where at
length it was properly secured.”
This difference between the external and internal
heat being so very considerable, must have a great in¬
fluence upon aerostatic machines, and will undoubtedly
influence those filled with inflammable air as well as
the other kind. Nor is it unlikely, that the short
time which many aerial voyagers have been able to
continue in the atmosphere may have beenowing to
the want of a method of preserving this internal heat.
It may naturally be supposed, and indeed it has always
been found, that balloons, in passing through the high¬
er regions of the atmosphere, acquire a very consider¬
able quantity of moisture, not only from the rain or
snow they sometimes meet with, but even from the dew
and vapour which condenses upon them. On this an
evaporation will instantly take place ; and, as it is the
property of this operation to produce a very violent
cold, the internal heat ol the balloon must he soon ex¬
hausted in such a manner as to make it become speci¬
fically heavier than the common atmosphere, and con¬
sequently descend in a much shorter time than it would
have done by the mere loss of air. To this, in all pro¬
bability, we are to ascribe the descent of the balloon
which carried Messrs Blanchard and Jeffries; and
A T I O N. PractiJ
which seemed so extraordinary to many people, that Great t(
they were obliged to have recourse to an imaginary dency oi|
attraction in the waters of the ocean, in order to solveM-EWl
the phenomenon. This supposition is rejected byMr?*lai^s|
Cavallo ; who explains the matter, by remarking, that scendv
in two former voyages made wifh the same machine, COuiited|
it could not long support two men in the atmosphere ; for.
so that we had no occasion to wonder at its weakness
on this occasion. <s As for its rising higher (says he),
just when it got over the land, that may be easily ac¬
counted for. In the first place, the two travellers
threw out their clothes just about that time ; secondly,
in consequence of the y/ind’s then increasing, the bal¬
loon travelled at a much greater rate than it had done
whilst over the sea; which increase of velocity lessen¬
ed its tendency to descend : besides which, the vicissi¬
tudes of heat and cold may produce a very consider¬
able effect ; for if we suppose, that the air over the
land was colder than that over the sea, the balloon
coming into the latter from the former, continued to
be hotter than the circumambient air for some time
after ; and consequently, it was comparatively much
lighter when in the cold air over the land, than
•when in the hotter air over the sea; hence it floated
easier in the former than in the latter case.”
It seems indeed very probable, that there was some¬
thing uncommon in the case of M. Blanchard’s bal¬
loon while passing over the sea ; for, as it rose higher
after reaching the land than in any former period of
the voyage, and likewise carried them to a distance
over land more than half of that which they had pas¬
sed over water, we can scarce avoid supposing, that it
had a tendency to descend when over the water more
than when over land, independent of any loss of air.
Now, it does not appear that the air over the sea is at
all warmer than that above land ; on the contrary, there
is every reason to believe, that the superior reflective
power of the land renders the atmosphere above it warm¬
er than the sea can do : hut it is very natural to sup¬
pose, that the air above the sea is more moist than that
above land ; and consequently, by letting fall its moi¬
sture upon the balloon, must have occasioned an evapo¬
ration that would deprive the machine of its internal
heat, which it would partly recover after it entered
the warmer and drier atmosphere over land.
We shall now proceed to the construction of aero-constni
static machines; of which the smaller are only fortionof;
amusement, or some slight experiments, and are veryrostabc
easily made. As in ail of them, however, it is of thecl“ncs‘
utmost consequence to have the weight as little as pos¬
sible, the shape becomes an object of great considera¬
tion. For this purpose a spherical figure has been ma-of
thematically demonstrated to be the best; as capable of shape,
containing a greater quantity under a smaller surface
than any other. Thus a perfect sphere contains less
surface in proportion to its solidity than a spheroid ; a
spheroid less than a cylinder ; the latter less than a
cube ; and a cube still less than a parallelopiped. In
all cases, therefore, where we can fill the whole capa¬
city of the balloon with air equally light, the spherical
figure is undoubtedly to he preferred : and this holds
good with regard to all inflammable air balloons, whe¬
ther their size be great or small ; but in the rarefied
ais ones, where the under part must necessarily be much
colder than the upper, the globular shape seems not so
proper.
} actice.
proper* An inverted cone, or truncated pyramid, with
the smaller part undermost, seems then to be most pro¬
per, as it allows the heated air (which has a great ten¬
dency to expand as well as to ascend) to collect in the
wide part at the top, while the useless surface, in the
lower part, and which, in any other figure, would con¬
tain only the colder and heavier air, is thus thrown
aside. In fact it has been found, that aerostatic ma¬
chines, raised by means of rarefied air, when made of
the shape of a parallelopiped, or even one deviating
still more from the shape of a globe, have answered the
purpose as well as they could have been supposed to
do, had ever so much care been taken in forming them
exactly to that shape. The very first machine made
by M. Montgolfier was in form of a parallelopiped ;
and though it contained only 40 cubic feet, showed a
Very considerable power of ascent. A very large one,
74 feet high, which M. Montgolfier had designed to
•exhibit before tire royal family, had the middle part of
it prismatic for about the height of 25 feet; its top
was a pyramid of 29 feet j and its lower part was a
truncated cone of near 20 feet. It weighed 1000
pounds ; and, notwithstanding its shape, in a very short
time manifested a power of ascent equal to 500 pounds.
Another aerostatic machine of a small size, but of the
figure of a parallelopiped, being suffered to ascend with
30 sheets of oiled paper fixed in a wire frame, and set
on fire, rose to a great height, and in 22 minutes could
not be seen. It seems therefore, that, with regard to
the shape of, these machines, it is by no means neces¬
sary to adhere rigidly to that of a sphere ; but that any
oblong form answers very well.
|eiials. For experimental purposes, both the inflammable
and rarefied air balloons may be made of paper ; the
former being made of that kind called thin post, var¬
nished over with linseed oil; the latter either of that
or any other kind, without varnish. In order to avoid
the danger of burning, however, it has been proposed
to impregnate the paper of which these small rarefi¬
ed air balloons are made with a solution of sal ammo¬
niac, alum, or some other salt: but this does not
seem to be necessary. Those filled with inflammable
air have been made of gold-beaters skin or peeled blad¬
ders j but the cheaper material of paper is undoubted¬
ly preferable.
rar. . For aerostatic machines of a larger size, the material
Jabk" UnIversal]y employed is varnished silk ; and for those of
U. rarefied air kind, linen painted over with some size
colour, or lined with paper. The best varnish for an
inflammable air balloon is that made with birdlime,
and recommended by M. Faujas de Saint Fond, in a
treatise published on the subject. The following is his
method of preparing it: “ Take one pound of bird¬
lime, put it into a new proper earthen pot that can re¬
sist the fire, and let it boil gently for about an hour,
viz. till it cease to crackle j or, which is the same
thing, till it is so far boiled, as that a drop of it being
let fall upon the fire will burn : then pour upon it a
pound of spirit of turpentine, stirring it at the same
time with a wooden spatula, and keeping the pot at a
good distance from the flame, lest the vapour of this
essential oil should take fire. After this, let it boil for
about six minutes longer ; and then pour upon the whole
three pounds of boiling oil of nuts, linseed, or poppy,
rendered drying by means of litharge j stir it well, let
' OL. I, Part I. f
AEROSTATION.
22
it boil for a quarter of an hour longer, and the varnish
is made. After it has rested for 24 hours, and the
sediment has gone to the bottom, decant it into ano¬
ther pot; and when you want to use it, warm, and ap¬
ply it with a flat brush upon the silk stuff, whilst that
is kept well stretched. One coat of it may be suffi¬
cient ; but if two are necessary, it will be proper to
give one on each side of the silk, and to let them dry
in the open air while the silk remains extended.”
Mi Cayallo gives the following method of preparing Cava1
this varnish, which he prefers to that of M. deStlo’sme- “
lond.—“ In order to render linseed oil drying, boiPhed.
it with two ounces of saccharum saturni and three
ounces of litharge, for every pint of oil, till the oil
has dissolved them, which will be accomplished in half
an hour; then put a pound of birdlime and half a pint
of the drying oil into a pot (iron or copper pots
are the safest for this purpose), the capacity of which
may be equal to about one gallon, and let it boil very
gently ovei a slow charcoal lire till the birdlime ceases
to crackle, which will be in about half or three quar¬
ters of an hour ; then pour upon it two pints and a
half more of drying oil, and let it boil for one hour
longer, stirring it very frequently with an iron or
wooden spatula. As the varnish, whilst boiling, and
especially when it is nearly done, swells very much,
care should be had to remove, in those cases, the pot
from the fire, and to replace it when the varnish sub¬
sides, otherwise it will boil over. Whilst the stuff is
boiling, the operator should, from time to time, ex¬
amine whether the varnish has boiled enough ; which
is thus known :—Take some of it upon the blade of a
knife, and then, after rubbing the blade of another
knife upon it, separate the knives j and when, on this
separation, the varnish begins to form threads between
the two, you may conclude that it is done ; and,
without losing time, it must be removed from the fire.
When it is almost, though not quite cold, add about
an equal quantity of spirit of turpentine ; mix it
well together, and let it rest till the next day ; when,
haying warmed it a little, strain and bottle it. If
it is too thick, add some more spirit of turpentine.
When this varnish is laid upon the silk, the stuff
should be made perfectly dry, and stretched $ so that
the varnish, which ought to be used lukewarm, may
fill up the pores of the stuff. The varnish should be
laid once very thin upon one side of the stuff j and,
about 12 hours after, two other coats of it should be
laid on, one on each side j and, 24 hours after, the
silk may be used, though, in cold weather, it may be
left to dry some time longer.”
Much has been said in France of their elastic gum
varnish, and its composition kept a secret; but Mr
Baldwin, after many expensive trials, declares to the
woild what he considers as the secret; and it is merely
this : u lake any quantity of caoutchouc, as tw7o ounces
avoirdupois; cut it into small bits with a pair of scis-
sars ; put a strong iron ladle (like that used by plum¬
bers) over a common pitcoal or other fire. The fire
must be-gentle, glowing, and without smoke. When
the ladle is hot, much below a red heat, put a single
bit into the ladle. If 6/ack smoke issues, it will pre¬
sently flame and disappear, or it will evaporate with¬
out flame : the ladle is then too hot. When the
ladle is less hot, put in a second bit, which will pro-
1 f duse
226
A E K O S T
iluce a white smoke. This white smoke will continue
during the operation, and evaporate the caoutchouc :
therefore no time is to be lost ; but little bits are to
be put in, a few at a time, till the whole are melted.
It should be continually and gently stirred with an iron
or brass spoon. Two pounds or one quart of the best
drying oil (or of raw linseed oil, which together with a
few drops of neats foot oil, has stood a month, or not
so long, on a lump of quicklime, to make it more or less
drying), is to be put into the melted caoutchouc, and
stirred till hot, and the whole poured into a glazed ves¬
sel through a coarse gauze or fine sieve. When settled
and clear, which will be in a few minutes, it will be fit
for use either hot or cold.” Mr Baldwin is not at li¬
berty, he observes, to publish the art of laying on the
varnish : but says, that it consists in making no intes¬
tine motion in the varnish, which would create minute
bubbles ; that therefore brushes are improper. M.
Blanchard’s method of making elastic gum varnish for
the silk of a balloon, is the following. “ Dissolve ela¬
stic gum (caoutchouc) cut small, in five times its weight
of spirit of turpentine, by keeping them some days to¬
gether \ then boil one ounce of this solution in eight
ounces of drying linseed oil for a few minutes } lastly,
strain it. It must be used warm.” The pieces of silk
for the balloon must be cut out of a proper size, accord¬
ing to the dimensions, after the varnish is sufficiently
dry. They may be joined by laying about half an inch
- of the edge of one piece over the edge of the other, and
fewing 'them by a double stitching. M. Blanchard
uses expeditiously the following method : He lays about
lialf an inch of the edge of one piece flat oyer the edge
of the other, and passes a hot iron over it 5 in doing
which a piece of paper ought to be laid both under and
over the silk. The joining may be rendered more se¬
cure by running it with a silk thread, and sticking a
ribband over it. The ribbands laid over seams may be
stuck with common glue, provided the varnish of the
silk is properly dried. \Vhen the glue is quite dry,
the ribbands should be varnished over, to prevent their
being unglued by the rain.
©f cutting The best method of cutting the pieces of silk that are
tlie gores to form a balloon, js to describe a pattern of wood or
fcr a globe, gtift' carc[ paper, and then to cut the silk upon it. As
the edges of such a pattern are not perfect circles, they
cannot be described by a pair of compasses; but the
best method of drawing them is as follows. First, Draw
on a flat surface two right lines AE and BC, fig. 2. per¬
pendicular to each other. Secondly, Find the circum¬
ference answering to the given diameter of the balloon
in feet and decimals of a foot; and make AD and DE
each equal to a quarter of the circumference, so that
the whole length AE of the pattern may be equal to
half the circumference. Thirdly, Divide AD into 18
equal parts ; and to the points of division apply the
lines^g, /«', kl, &c. parallel to each other, and perpen¬
dicular to AD. Fourthly, Divide the whole circum¬
ference in twice the given number of pieces, and make
DC and BB each equal to the quotient of this divi¬
sion : so that the whole, BC, is equal to the greatest
breadth of one of these pieces. Fifthly, Multiply the
above-mentioned quotient by the decimals annexed to
/g, viz. 0.99619, and then the product expresses the
length of fg; again, multiply the same length of DE
by the decimals annexed to /«, and the product ex-
3,
A T I O N. Practice
presses the length of hi\ and, in short, the product
arising from the multiplication of the length of DC by
the decimals annexed to each of the parallel lines,
gives the length of that line. Lastly, Having found
the lengths of all these lines, draw by hand a curve
line passing through all the extremities of the said
lines, and that is the edge of one quarter of the pat¬
tern. The other quarters may be easily described, by
applying to them a piece of paper cut according to
that already found. Suppose, for example, that the
diameter of the balloon to be constructed is 20 feet,
and that it is required to make it of 12 pieces ; then,
in order to draw the pattern for those pieces, find the
circumference of the balloon, which is 62.85 feet, and
dividing it by four, the quotient is 15.7 feet; make
therefore AD equal to 15.7 feet, and DE likewise of
the same length. Divide the circumference 62.83 by
24, which is double the number of pieces that are to
form the balloon, and the quotient, 2.618 feet, is the
length of DC and likewise of BD ; so that BC is
equal to 5.236 feet. Then having divided the line
AD into 18 equal parts, and having drawn the paral¬
lel lines from those points of division, find the length
of each of those lines by multiplying 2.618 by the de¬
cimals annexed to that line. Thus, 2.618 multiplied
by 0.99619, gives 2.608 feet for the length of(/g,- and
again, multiplying 2.618 by 0.98481, gives 2.578
feet for the length of hi; and so of the rest. In cut¬
ting the pieces after such a pattern, care should be
taken to leave them about three quarters of an inch all
round larger than the pattern, which will be taken up
by the seams.
To the upper part of the balloon there should be
adapted, and well fitted in, a valve, opening inwards ;
to which should be fastened a string passing through
a hole made in a small piece of round wood fixed in
the lowest part of the balloon opposite to the valve, and
the end of this string fastened in the car below, so that
the aeronaut may open the valve when occasion requires.
The action of this valve may be understood from fig. 3.
A round brass plate AB has a round hole CD, about
two or three inches diameter, covered on both sides
with strong smooth leather. On the inside there is a
shutter E, also of brass, covered with leather, which is
to close the hole CD ; being about two inches larger
in diameter than the hole. It is fastened to the leather
of the plate AB ; and by a spring, which need not be
very strong, it is kept against the hole. The elasticity
of the gas itself will help to keep it shut. To this
shutter the string is fastened, by which it is occasion¬
ally opened for the escape of gas. A small string or
other security should be fixed to the shutter and the
plate, so as not to admit the shutter to be opened be¬
yond a certain safe distance. To the lower part of the
balloon two pipes should be fixed, made of the same
stuff as the envelope ; 6 inches diameter for a balloon
of 30 feet, and proportionably larger for balloons of a
greater capacity. They must be long enough for the
car. For balloons of 18 feet and less diameter, one
neck or pipe will be sufficient. These pipes are the
apertures through which the inflammable gas is intro¬
duced into the balloon.
The car or boat is best made of wicker work, cover¬
ed with leather, and well painted or vanished over;
and the proper method of suspending it, is by ropes pro¬
ceeding
ractice. A E R O S
ceeding from the net which goes over the balloon.
This net should be formed to the shape of the balloon,
and fall down to the middle of it, with various cords
proceeding from it to the circumference of a circle
about two feet below the balloon ; and from that circle
other ropes should go to the edge of the boat. This
circle may be made of wood, or of several pieces of
slender cane bound together. The meshes of the net
may be small at top, against which part of the balloon
the inflammable air exerts the greatest force 5 and in¬
crease in size as they recede from the top. A hoop
has sometimes been applied round the middle of the
balloon to fasten the net. This, though not absolutely
necessary, is best made of pieces of cane bound to¬
gether, and covered with leather.
With regard to the rarefied air machines, Mr Ca-
vallo recommends first to soak the cloth in a solution
of sal-ammoniac and common size, using one pound of
each to every gallon of water ; and when the cloth is
quite dry, to paint it over in the inside with some
earthy colour, and strong size or glue. When this
paint has dried perfectly, it will then be proper to
varnish it with oily varnish, which might dry before it
could penetrate quite through the cloth. Simply dry¬
ing linseed oil will answer the purpose as well as any,
pi’ovided it be not very fluid.
filling It now only remains to give some account of the
static method by which aerostatic machines may be filled
- ines. their proper gas, in order to give them their
power of asscending into the atmosphere ; and here we
are enabled to determine with much greater precision
concerning the inflammable air balloons than the others,
thods of With regard to them, a primary consideration is, the
lining most proper method of procuring the inflammable air.
imma- Jt may obtained in various ways, as will be shown
under the article Chemistry. But the most advan¬
tageous methods are, by applying acids to certain
metals 5 by exposing animal, vegetable, and some mi¬
neral substances, in a close vessel to a strong fire ; or
by transmitting the vapour of certain fluids through
red-hot tubes.
I. In the first of these methods, iron, zinc, and
sulphuric acid are the materials most generally used.
The sulphuric acid must be diluted with five or six
parts of waiter. Iron may be expected to yield in the
common way l^oo times its own bulk of gas 3 or one
cubic foot of inflammable air to be produced by 41-
ounces of iron, the like weight of sulphuric acid, and
22? ounces of water. Six ounces of zinc, an equal
weight of sulphuric acid, and 30 ounces of water, are
necessary for producing the same quantity of gas. It
is more proper to use the turnings or chippings of great
pieces of iron, as of cannon, &c. than the filings of
that metal, because the heat attending the effervescence
will be diminished 3 and the diluted acid will pass more
readily through the interstices of the turnings when
they are heaped together, than through the filings,
which stick closer to one another. The weight of the
inflammable air thus obtained by means of sulphuric
acid, is, in the common way of procuring.it, gene¬
rally one-seventh part of, the weight of common air 3
but with the necessary precautions for philosophical
experiments, less than one-tenth of the weight of
common air. Two other sorts of elastic fluids are
sometimes generated with the inflammable air. These
T A T I O N.
may be separated from it by passing the inflammable
air through water in which quicklime has been dissol¬
ved. 'i he water will absorb these fluids, cool the in¬
flammable air, and prevent its over-heating the bal¬
loon when introduced into it.
l ig. 4. of Plate II. represents an apparatus describ¬
ed by Mr Cavailo as proper for filling balloons of
the size of two or three feet in diameter with inflam¬
mable air, after passing it through water.—A is the
bottle with the ingredients: BCD a tube fastened in
the neck at B, and passing through C, the cork of the
other bottle, in which there is another hole made to re¬
ceive the tube on which the balloon is tied. Thus it
is plain, that the inflammable air coming out of the
tube D will pass first through the water of the bottle
B and then into the balloon. Two small casks may
be used instead of the bottles A and E.
2. Inflammable air may be obtained at a much
cheaper rate by the action of fire on various substances 3
but the gas which these yield is not so light as that
produced by the effervescence of acids and metals. The
substances proper to be used in this way are, pitcoal,
asphaltum, amber, rock-oil, and other minerals 5 wood,
and especially oak, camphor-oil, spirits of wine, aether,
and animal substances, w’hich yield air in different de¬
grees, and of various specific gravities : but pitcoal is
the preferable substance. A pound of this exposed to
a red heat, yields about three cubic feet of inflammable
air, which, whether it be passed through water or not,
weighs about one-fourth of the weight of common air.
Dr Priestley found, as we have elsewhere noticed, that
animal or vegetable substances will yield six or seven
times more inflammable air when the fire is suddenly-
increased than when it is gently raised, though it be
afterwards made very strong. Mr Cavailo observes,
that the various substances above enumerated generally
yield all their inflammable air in about one hour’s time.
1 be general method is, to enclose the substances in
iron or earthen vessels, and thus expose them to a strong
fire sufficient to make the vessels red-hot 3 the inflam¬
mable air proceeding from the aperture of the vessel is
received into a tube or refrigeratory, and, passing
through the tube or worm, is at last collected in a bal¬
loon or other vessel. A gun-barrel has often been used
for essays of this kind. The substance is put into it so
as to fill six or eight inches of its lowest part, the re¬
mainder filled with dry sand : a tube, adapted to
the mouth of the barrel, is brought into a bason of
water under an inverted receiver 3 and the part of the
barrel containing the substance being put into the
fire and made red-hot, the inflammable air is col¬
lected in the inverted receiver. As the gun-barrel can¬
not serve for producing a large quantity of inflammable
an, Mr Cavalio recommends, as the most advantageous
shape, the following contrivance : Let the vessel be
made of clay, or rather of iron, in the shape of a Flo¬
rence flask, somewhat larger, and whose neck is longer
and larger (See ABC, fig. 3.). Put the substance to be
used into this vessel, so as to fill about four-fifths or Jess
of its cavity AB. It the substance is of such a nature
as to swell much by the action of the fire, lute a tube
of brass, or first a brass and then a leaden tube, to the
neck C of the vessel 3 and let the end D of the tube be
shaped as in the figure, so that going into the water of a
tube HI, it may terminate under a sort of inverted ves-
F f 2 sel
227
V
AEROSTATION.
sel EF, to the upper aperture of which the balloon G
is adapted. Things thus prepared, if the part A B of
the vessel is put into the fire, and made red hot, the in¬
flammable air produced will come out of the tube CD,
and passing through the water will at last enter into the
balloon G. Previous to the operation, as a consider¬
able quantity of common air remains in the inverted
vessel EF, which it is more proper to expel, the vessel
EF should have a stop-cock K, through which the
common air may be sucked out, and the water ascend
as high as the stop-cock. The dimensions of such an
apparatus Mr Cavallo gives thus: Diameter of largest
part of the vessel ABC seven inches, length of whole
vessel 16 inches; diameter of its aperture one inch, dia¬
meter of the cavity of the tube CD three-fourths of an
inch ; lower aperture of the vessel EF six inches, least
height of the vessel EF 24 inches ; its aperture F about
two inches. The aperture of the vessel EF should be
at least one feet below the surface of the water in HI.
Care must he taken that the fire used in this process he
sit a sufficient distance, otherwise it may happen to fire
the inflammable air which may escape out of the ves¬
sel EF.
3. The last method of obtaining inflammable air
was discovered by M. Lavoisier, and also by Dr
Priestley. M. Lavoisier made the steam of boiling wa¬
ter pass through the barrel of a gun, kept red hot by
burning coals. Dr Priestley uses, instead of the gun-
barrel, a tube of red-hot brass, upon which the steam
of water has no effect, and which he fills with the
pieces of iron which are separated in the boring of
cannon. By this method he obtains an inflammable air,
the specific gravity of which is to that of common air
as I to 13. In this method, not yet indeed reduced
to general practice, a tube about three quarters of an
inch in diameter, and about three feet long, is filled
with iron turnings ; then the neck of a retort, or close
boiler, is luted to one of its ends, and the worm of a
refrigeratory is adapted to its other extremity. The
middle part of the tube is then surrounded with burn¬
ing coals, so as to keep about one foot in length of it
red hot, and a fire is always made under the retort or
boiler sufficient to make the water boil with vehemence.
In this process a considerable quantity of inflammable
air comes out of the worm of the refrigeratory. It is
said that iron yields onerhalf more air by this means
than by the action of sulphuric acid.
For filling large balloons, a greater quantity is ne¬
cessary; and the only materials that can, with any cer¬
tainty of success, be employed for producing the proper
gas, are, sulphuric acid, and iron filings or turnings.
It has indeed been recommended to use zinc instead
of iron filings, because white vitriol, the salt produced
by the union of the sulphuric acid and zinc, is much
more valuable than the green sort produced by the
union of the same acid with iron. But though this is
undoubtedly the case, it will as certainly be found, up¬
on trial, that the superior price of the zinc will be more
than an equivalent for all the advantage that can be
derived from the additional price of the white vitriol.
Mr Caval- F°r a balloon of 30 feet diameter, Mr Cavallo recom-
lo’s re- mends 3900 pounds of iron turnings, as much sulphu-
seipt. rjc acid, and 19,500 pounds of water. These pro¬
portions, however, appear too great with respect to
the acid and metal, and too little with respect to th n
2
Practice I
water. Sulphuric acid will not exert its power upon
iron unless it be diluted with five or six times its quan¬
tity of water ; in which case, a much smaller quantity
of both acid and metal will serve. Mr Lunardi, who Mr j
from the number of his voyages had certainly muchdi’sme- I
practical knowledge in aerostation, filled his balloon thod.
at Edinburgh and Glasgow with about 2000 pounds
of iron (the borings of cannon procured from Carron),
as much sulphuric acid, and 12,000 pounds of Water.
The iron was placed in his vessels in layers, with straw
between them, in order to increase the surface. His
apparatus was not materially different from that of
Mr Cavallo, fig. 6. where AA are two tubs, about
three feet in diameter and nearly two feet deep, in¬
verted in large tubs BB filled with water. In the
bottom of each of the inverted tubs a hole is made,
and a tube E of tin adapted, which is about seven
inches in diameter, and seven or eight long. To
these tubes the silken ones of the balloon are to be
tied. Bound each of the tubs B, five, six, or more
strong casks are placed ; in the top of each two holes
are made, and to one of these holes a tin tube is
adapted, and so shaped, that, passing over the edge
of the tub B, and through the water, it may ter¬
minate with its aperture under the inverted tub A.
The other hole of these casks serves for the introduc¬
tion of materials, and is stopped with a wooden plug.
When the balloon is to be filled, put the net over it,
and let it be suspended as shown by CDF; and having
expelled all the common air from it, let the silken tube
be fastened round the tin ones EE ; and the materials
being put into the casks, the inflammable air, passing
into the balloon, will soon distend, and render it ca¬
pable of supporting itself; after which the rope GH
may be slipped off. As the balloon continues to be
filled, the net is adjusted properly round it; the cords
that surround it are fastened to the hoop MN ; then
the boat IK being placed between the two sets of
casks, is fastened to the hoop MN, and every thing
that is required to be sent up, as ballast, instruments,
&c. is placed in it. At last when the balloon is little
more than three quarters full, the silken tubes are se¬
parated from the tin ones of the inverted tubs, and
their extremities being tied up, are placed in the boat.
Lastly, The aeronauts being seated in the boat, the la¬
teral ropes are slipped off, and the machine is aban¬
doned to the air. (See Blanchard''s Balloon, Plate III.)
This apparatus was at last reduced by Mr Lunardi to
its utmost simplicity, by using only two large casks,
and suffering the vapour to go into the balloon with¬
out passing through water. Thus his balloon was filled
in less than half an hour, when, before, it had required
two hours at least. The sinking of his casks in the
ground was also an additional convenience, as it created
no confusion, and rendered the materials much more
easily conveyed into them.
With regard to the rarefied air balloons, the method offljfinj
of filling them is as follows. A scaffold ABCD, fig. ^.rardieds J
the breadth of which is at least two-thirds of the dia-b^'0011®'
meter of the machine, is elevated about six or eight
feet above the ground. From the middle of it descends
a well E, rising about two or three feet above it, and
reaching to the ground, furnished with a door or two,
through which the fire in the well is supplied with fuel.
The well should be constructed of brick or of plastered
wood.
AEROSTATION.
PLATE IT.
Publishby A. Constable £ CfEduiTJ#20.
MOJSTTGOXTIERS BAJLE005T.
FA 17303 OTTHG Sf ATYTOlTSTK .
AEROSTATION
PLATE 1/1.
VE R SAILRE S
B.
I CHARLES & ROBERTS B.
caatp izt: Maas.
BLA^RCBARD S BALLOOjV .
MONTGOLFIERS B.
FArjOiOTIltG OF ST GERMAIN.
jPuMir/wii bt/A. Constable <£ CFJSdinT 1S20.
AEROSTATION.
ractice
v wood, and its diameter should be somewhat less than
that of the machine. On each side of the scaffold are
erected two masts HI, KL, each of which has a pulley
at the top, and rendered firm by means of ropes KG,
KP, HP, HG. The machine to be filled is to be pla¬
ced on the scaffold, with its neck round the aperture
of the well. The rope passing over the pulleys of the
two masts, serves, by pulling its two ends, to lift the
balloon about 15 feet or more above the scaffold j and
the rest of the machine is represented by the dotted
lines in the figure MNO. The machine is kept steady,
and held down, whilst filling, by ropes passing through
loops or holes about its equator j and the ropes may
easily be disengaged from the machine, by slipping
them through the loops w^ien it is able to sustain it¬
self. The proper combustibles to be lighted in the
well, are those which burn quick and clear, rather than
such as produce much smoke j because it is hot air,
not hot smoke, that is required to be introduced into
the machine. Small wood and straw have been found
to be very fit for this purpose. Mr Cavallo observes,
as the result of many experiments with small machines,
that spirit of wine is upon the w-hole the best com¬
bustible ; but its price may prevent its being used for
large machines. As the current of hot air ascends, the
machine will soon dilate, and lift itself above the scaf¬
fold and gallery which was covered by it. The passen¬
gers, fuel, instruments, &c. are then placed in the gal¬
lery. When the machine makes efforts to ascend, its
aperture must be brought, by means of the ropes an¬
nexed to it, towards the side of the well a little above
the scaffold; the fire place is then suspended in it, the
fire lighted in the grare, and the lateral ropes being
slipped off, the machine is abandoned to the air. (See
Montgolfier's balloon, Plate III.) It has been deter¬
mined by accurate experiments, that only one-third of
the common air can be expelled from these large ma¬
chines : and therefore the ascending power of the rare¬
fied air in them can be estimated as only equal to half
an ounce avoirdupoise for every cubic foot.
The conduct of balloons, when constructed, filled,
and actually ascending in the atmosphere, is an object
of great importance in the practice of aerostation. The
method generally used for elevating or lowering the
balloons with rarefied air, has been the increase or di¬
minution of the fire: and this is entirely at the com¬
mand of the aeronaut, as long as he has any fuel in the
gallery. The inflammable air balloons have been ge¬
nerally raised or lowered by diminishing the weight in
the boat, or by letting out some of the gas through
the valve : but the alternate escape of the air in de¬
scending, and discharge of the ballast for ascending,
will by degrees render the machine incapable of float¬
ing ; for in the air it is impossible to supply the loss of
ballast, and very difficult to supply that of inflammable
air. These balloons will also rise or fall by means of
the rarefaction or condensation of the enclosed air, oc¬
casioned by heat and cold. It has been proposed to
aid a balloon in its alternate motion of ascent and de¬
scent, by annexing to it * vessel of common air, which
might be condensed for lowering the machine, and ra¬
refied- again, by expelling part of it, for raising the
machine : But a vessel adapted to this purpose must
be very strong 5 and, after all, the assistance afforded by
it would not be very considerable. M. Meunier, in or¬
der to attain this end, proposes to enclose one balloon
filled with common air in another filled with inflam¬
mable air : as the balloon ascends, the inflammable air
is dilated, and of course compresses the internal balloon
containing the common air : and by diminishing its
quantity, lessens its weight. If it should be necessary
to supply this loss, he says it may be easily done by
a pair of bellows fixed in the gallery. Others have
proposed to annex a small machine with rarefied air
to an inflammable air balloon by ropes, at such a di¬
stance that the fire of the former might not affect the
inflammable air of the latter: the whole apparatus,
thus combined, of balloons formed on the two princi¬
ples of heated and inflammable air, might be raised or
lowered by merely increasing or diminishing the fire in
the lower balloon.
Wings or oars are the only means of this sort that
have been used with some success: and, as Mr Cavallo
observes, they seem to be capable of considerable im¬
provement ; although great effects are not to be expect¬
ed from them, when the machine goes at a great rate.
Hie best methods of moving those wings are by the
human strength applied similarly to the oars of a water¬
man. They may be made in general of silk stretched
between wires, tubes, or sticks $ and when used, must
be turned edgewise when they are moved in the direc¬
tion in which the machine is intended to be impelled^
but flat in the opposite direction. Fig. 8. is the repre¬
sentation of one of Mr Blanchard’s wings. Fig. 9. is
one of those used by Mr Lunardi, which consists of
many silk shutters or valves, ABCD, DECF, &c.
every one of which opens on one side only, viz. ADBC
opens upon the line AB, DECF opens upon the line
DC, &c. In consequence of this construction, this sort
of oars does not need being turned edgewise. Fig. 10.
represents one of the wings used by the brothers Ro¬
berts in the aerial voyage of the 19th September 1784 j
and fig. 11. represents one of the wings constructed by
Count Zambeccari, which consists of a piece of silk
stretched between two thin tubes set at an angle 5 but
these wings are so contrived as to turn edgewise by
themselves when they go on one direction. Other con¬
trivances have been made to direct aerostatic machines,
but they have mostly been invented to effect a power
upon them as upon a ship. It appears, however, that
they can have no effect when a machine is only moved
by the wind alone, because the circumambient air is at
rest in respect to the machine. The case is quite dif¬
ferent with a vessel at sea, because the water on which
it floats stands still whilst the vessel goes on j but it
must be time and experience that can realize the ex¬
pectations suggested by these contrivances.
A view of the principles of this science, and of the
more recent aerial voyages, is given under the article
Aeronautics in the Supplement.
AEKSCHOTj
229
AES [ 230 ] AES
Amehot AERSCHOT, a town of the Austrian Netherlands
1! in the duchy of Brabant, and capital of the duchy of
iEsibines. Aersc]10t. It is seated on the river Demur, ten miles
' v ' east of Malines or Mechlin, and eight north of Lou¬
vain. E. Long. 5. 44. N. Lat. 51.
JERUGINOUS, an epithet given to such things as
resemble or partake of the nature of the rust of copper.
iERUGO, in Natural History, properly signifies
the rust of copper, whether natural or artificial. The
former is found about copper mines, and the latter,
called verdigris, made by corroding copper plates with
acids.
iERUSCATORES, in Antiquity, a kind of strol¬
ling beggars, not unlike gypsies, who drew money from
the credulous by fortune-telling, &c. It was also a
denomination given to griping exactors, or collectors
of the revenue. The Galli, or priests of Cybele, were
called ceruscatores magnce matris; and on
account of their begging or collecting alms in the
streets 5 to which end they had little bells to draw
people’s attention, similar to some orders of mendicants
abroad.
AERY, or Airy, among sportsmen. See Airy.
jiES UXORIUM, in Antiquity, a sum paid by bache¬
lors, as a penalty for living single to old age. 1 his
tax for not marrying seems to have been first imposed
in the year of Rome 350, under the censorship of M.
Furius Camillus and M. Postbumus. At the census,
or review of the people, each person was asked, Et tu
ex anima sententia uxorem habes liberum qiuerendorum
causa? He who had no wife was hereupon fined after a
certain rate, called ces uxorium.
JEs per et libram was a formula in the Roman law,
whereby purchases and sales were ratified. Originally
the phrase seems to have been only used in speaking of
things sold by weight, or by the scales: but it after¬
wards was used on other occasions. Hence even in
adoptions, as there was a kind of imaginary purchase,
the formula thereof expressed, that the person adopted
was bought per ces et libram.
JEs Flavum, yellow copper, among the Romans, an
appellation given to the coarser kinds of brass.
The ancients had different kinds of brass, as ces can-
diduni, ces Corinthium, denoting probably different
metallic alloys or mixtures.
JEs Caldarium, a term used by the German minera-
lists, for a substance which sometimes occurs to those
who work upon cobalt, and is used for making the fine
blue colour called smalt.
JEs Ustum, a chemical preparation, made of thin
leaves of copper, sulphur, and nitre, placed stratum su¬
per stratum in a crucible, and set in a charcoal fire till
all the sulphur is consumed j after which, the copper
is taken out of the crucible, and reduced to powder.
Some quench the leaves of copper in vinegar, and re¬
peat the calcination.—Its principal use is in colouring
glass, to which it gives a beautiful tincture. The sur¬
geons use it as a detersive, and some have given it in¬
ternally but it is certainly a very dangerous medicine,
and should be avoided.
AESCHINES, an Athenian, a Socratic philosopher,
. the son of Charinus a sausage-maker. He was conti¬
nually with Socrates j which occasioned this philoso¬
pher to say, that the sausage-maker’s son was the only
person who knew how to pay a due regard to him. j£Scliine
It is said that poverty obliged him to go to Sicily to'-—v—
Dionysius the tyrant j and that he met with great
contempt from Plato, but was extremely well received
by Aristippus j to whom he showed some of his dia¬
logues, and received from him a handsome reward.
He would not venture to profess philosophy at Athens,
Plato and Aristippus being in such high esteem ; but
he opened a school in which he taught philosophy to
maintain himself. He afterwards wrote orations for
the forum. Phrynicus, in Photius, ranks him amongst
the best orators, and mentions his orations as the stan¬
dard of the pure Attic style. Hermogenes has also
spoken very highly of him. He wrote besides several
Dialogues, of which there are only three extant :
1. Concerning virtue, whether it can be taught.
2. Eryxias, or Erasistratus j concerning riches, whe¬
ther they are good. 3. Axiochus j concerning death,
whether it is to be feared. M. Le Clerc has given a
Latin translation of them, with notes and several dis¬
sertations, entitled Sylvce Philologicce.
yEschines, a celebrated Grecian orator, was born
at Athens 327 years before the Christian era. Ac¬
cording to his own account, he was of distinguished
birth ; according to that of Demosthenes, he was the
son of a courtezan, and a humble performer in a com¬
pany of comedians. But whatever was the true history
of his birth and early life, his talents, which were con¬
siderable, procured him great applause, and enabled him
to be a formidable rival to Demosthenes himself. The
two orators, inspired probably with mutual jealousy
and animosity, became at last the strenuous leaders of
opposing parties. iEschines was accused by Demos¬
thenes of having received money as a bribe, when he
was employed on an embassy to Philip of Macedon.
Pie indirectly retaliated the charge by bringing an ac¬
cusation against Ctesiphon the friend of Demosthenes
for having moved a decree, contrary to the laws, to con¬
fer on Demosthenes a golden crown, as a mark of pu¬
blic approbation. A numerous assembly of judges and
citizens met to hear and decide the question : each ora¬
tor employed all his powers of eloquence 5 but De¬
mosthenes, with superior talents, and with justice on
his side, was victorious 5 and iEschines was sent into
exile. The resentment of Demosthenes was now soft¬
ened into generous kindness j for when iEschines was
going into banishment, he requested him to accept of
a sum of money; which made him exclaim, “ Plow do
I regret leaving a country where I have found an ene¬
my so generous, that I must despair of ever meeting
with a friend who shall be like him !”
YEschines opened a school of eloquence at Rhodes,
which was the place of his exile, and he commenced
his lectures by reading to his audience the two ora¬
tions which had been the cause of his banishment.
His own oration received great praise; but that of
Demosthenes was heard with boundless applause. In
so trying a moment, when vanity must be supposed to
have been deeply wounded, with a noble generosity of
sentiment, he said, “ What would you have thought
if you had heard him thunder out the words himself.”
—^Eschines afterwards removed to Samos, where he
died, in the 75th year of his age, Three of his ora¬
tions only are extant. His eloquence is not without
energy,
■
AES [2
. ,]j;Bes, energy, but it is diffuse and ornamented, and more
; shylns. calculated to please than to move the passions. (Gew.
- —' Biog.')
AESCHYLUS, the tragic poet, was born at Athens.
The time of his birth is not exactly ascertained ; some
suppose that it was in the 65th, others in the 70th
Olympiad; but according to Stanley, who follows the
Arundelian marbles, he was born in the 63d Olym¬
piad. He was the son of Euphorian, and brother to
Cynegirus and Amxnias, who distinguished themselves
in the battle of Marathon, and the sea-fight of Salamis,
at which engagements Hischylus was likewise present.
In this last action, according to Diodorus Siculus,
Aminias, the younger of the three brothers, command¬
ed a squadron of ships, and fought with so much con¬
duct and bravery, that he sunk the admiral of the Per¬
sian fleet, and signalized himself above all the Athe¬
nians. To this brother our poet was, upon a particu¬
lar occasion, obliged for saving his life : Htlian re¬
lates, that iEschylus being charged by the Athenians
with certain blasphemous expressions in some of his
pieces, was accused of impiety, and condemned to be
stoned to death : They wrere just going to put the sen¬
tence in execution, when Aminias, with a happy pre¬
sence of mind, throwing aside his cloak, showed his
arm without a hand, which he had lost at the battle of
Salamis in defence of his country. This sight made
such an impression on the judges, that, touched with
the remembrance of his valour, and with the friend¬
ship he showed for his brother, they pardoned AEschy-
lus. Our poet, however, resented the indignity of this
prosecution, and resolved to leave a place where his
life had been in danger. He became more determi¬
ned in this resolution when he found his pieces less
pleasing to the Athenians than those of Sophocles,
though a much younger writer. Some affirm, that
Aischylus never sat down to compose but when he had
drank liberally. He wrote a great number of trage¬
dies, of which there are but seven remaining : and
notwithstanding the sharp censures of some critics, he
must be allowed to have been the father of the tragic
art. In the time of Thespis, there was no public
theatre to act upon *, the strollers driving about from
place to place in a cart. ^Eschylus furnished his act¬
ors with masks, and dressed them suitably to their cha¬
racters. He likewise introduced the buskin, to make
them appear more like heroes.—The ancients gave
iEschylus also the praise of having been the first w'ho
removed murders and shocking sights from the eyes of
the spectators. He is said likewise to have lessened
the number of the chorus. M. Le Fevre has observ¬
ed, that ^Eschylus never represented women in love in
his tragedies 5 which, he says, was not suited to his ge¬
nius 5 but, in representing a woman transported with
fury, he was incomparable. Longinus says, that
iEschylus has a noble boldness of expression ; and that
his imagination is lofty and heroic. It must be owned,
however, that he affected pompous words, and that his
sense is too often obscured by figures: this gave Sal-
masius occasion to say, that he was more difficult to
be understood than the Scripture itself. But notwith¬
standing these imperfections, this poet was held in
great veneration by the Athenians, who made a public
decree that his tragedies should be played after his
death. He was killed in the 69th year of his age, by
31 ] AES
an eagle letting fall a tortoise upon his head as he was jEschylus
walking in the fields. He had the honour of a pom- II
pous funeral from the Sicilians, who buried him near , ^S0P*
the river Gela ; and the tragedians of the country per- v 1 J
formed plays and theatrical exercises at his tomb.—
I he best edition of his plays is that of London, 1663,
folio, with a Latin translation and a learned commen¬
tary by Thomas Stanley.
JESCHYNQMENE, Bastard sensitive plant,
in Botany. See Botany Index.
/ESCULAPHIS, in the heathen mythology, the
god of physic, was the son of Apollo and the nymph
Coronis. He w'as educated by the centaur Chiron,
who taught him physic ; by which means Hlsculapius
cured the most desperate diseases. But Jupiter, enraged
at his restoring to life Hippolitus, who had been torn
in pieces by his own horses, killed him with a thunder¬
bolt. According to Cicero, there were three deities
of this name : the first, the son of Apollo, worshipped
in Arcadia, who invented the probe, and bandages for
wounds j the second, the brother of Mercury, killed
by lightning 5 and the third, the son of Arisippus and
Arsinoe, who first taught the art of tooth-drawing
and purging. At Epidaurus, Aisculapius’s statue was
of gold and ivory, with a long beard, his head sur¬
rounded with rays, holding in one hand a knotty stick,
and the other entwined with a serpent; he was seated
on a throne of the same materials as his statue, and
had a dog lying at his feet. The Romans crowned
him with laurel, to represent his descent from Apol¬
lo ; and the Phliasians represented him as beardless.
The cock, the raven, and the goat, were sacred to this
deity. His chief temples were at Pergamus, Smyrna,
Trica a city in Ionia, and the isle of Coos j in all
which votive tablets were hung up, showing the diseases
cured by his assistance. But his most famous shrine
was at Epidaurus; where, every five years, games
were instituted to him, nine days after the Isthmian
games at Corinth.
iESCULUS, the Horse-chesnut, in Botany. See
Botany Index.
HLSOP, the Phrygian, lived in the time of Solon,
about the 50th Olympiad, under the reign of Croesus
the last king of Lydia. As to genius and abilities, he
was greatly indebted to nature 5 but in other respects
not so fortunate, being born a slave and extremely de¬
formed. St Jerome, speaking of him, says he was un¬
fortunate in his birth, condition in life, and death 5
hinting thereby at his deformity, servile state, and tra¬
gical end. His great genius, however, enabled him
to support his misfortunes ; and in order to alleviate
the hardships of servitude, he composed those entertain¬
ing and instructive fables which have acquired him so
much reputation. He is generally supposed to have
been the inventor of that kind of writing j but this is
contested by several, particularly Quintilian, who seems
to think that Hesiod was the first author of fables.
iEsop, however, certainly improved this art to a very
great degree 5 and hence it is that he has been ac¬
counted the author of this sort of productions :
JEsopns auctor quam materiam reperit^
Hanc ego polivi versibus senariis. Ph.ED.
Mine is the task, in easy verse,
The tales of iEsop to rehearse.
The
I
AES [ 232 ] A E T
iEsop. The first master whom iEsop served, wa^ one Cara-
—V J sins Demarchns, an inhabitant of Athens •, and there,
in all probability, he acquired his purity in the Greek
tongue. After him he had several masters j and at length
came under a philosopher named Idmon or ladmon, who
enfranchised him. After he had recovered his liberty,
he soon acquired a great reputation amongst the Greeks 5
so that, according to Meziriac, the report of his wis-
.dom having reached Croesus, he sent to enquire after
him, and engaged him in his service. He travelled
^through Greece, according to the same author j whe¬
ther for his own pleasure, or upon the affairs of Croesus,
is uncertain ; and passing by Athens soon after Pisi-
stratus had usurped the sovereign power, and finding
that the Athenians bore the yoke very impatiently^ he
, told them the fable of the frogs who petitioned Jupiter
-for a king. The images made use of by ^Isop are cer¬
tainly very happy invention^to instruct mankind ; they
possess all that is necessary to perfect a precept, having
a mixture of the useful with the agreeable. “ iEsop
the fabulist (says Aulus Gellius) was deservedly esteem¬
ed wise, since he did not, after the manner of the phi¬
losophers, rigidly and imperiously dictate such things
. as were proper to be advised and persuaded ; but fram¬
ing entertaining and agreeable apologues, he thereby
charms and captivates the human mind.”—AEsop was
put to death at Delphi. Plutarch tells us, that he came
there with a great quantity of gold and silver, being
ordered by Croesus to offer a sacrifice to Apollo, and
to give a considerable sum to each inhabitant: but a
quarrel arising betwixt him and the Delphians, he sent
back the money to Croesus *, for he thought those for
whom the prince designed it, had rendered themselves
unworthy of it. The inhabitants of Delphi brought
an accusation of sacrilege against him $ and pretending
they had convicted him, threw him headlong from a
rock; For this cruelty and injustice, we are told they
were visited with famine and pestilence ; and consulting
the oracle, they received for answer, that the god de-
r signed this as a punishment for their treatment of ^Fisop:
they endeavoured to make an atonement, by raising a
. pyramid to his honour.
v^Esop, Clodius, a celebrated actor, who flourished
about the 670th year of Rome. He and Roscius were
. cotemporaries, and the best performers who ever ap-
- peared upon the Roman stage ; the former excelling
in tragedy, the latter in comedy. Cicero put himself
, under their direction to perfect his action. yEsop lived
in a most expensive manner, and at one entertainment
, is said to have had a dish which cost above eight hundred
( pounds} this dish, we are told, was filled with singing
and speaking birds, some of which cost near 50I. The
. delight which jEsop took in this sort of birds proceed-,
ed, as Mr Bayle observes, from the expence. He duf'
not make a dish of them because they could speak, ac¬
cording to the refinement ef Pliny upon this circum¬
stance, this motive being only by accident j but because
of their extraordinary price. If there had been any
birds that could not speak, and yet more scarce and
dear than these, he would have procured such for his
table. iEsop’s son was no less luxurious than his fa¬
ther, for he dissolved pearls for his guests to swallow.
Some speak of this as a common practice of his ; but
others mention his falling into this excess only on a
particular day, when he was treating his friends. Ho¬
race * speaks only ol one pearl of great value, winch
he dissolved in vinegar, and drank. iEsop, notwith- fl
standing his expences, is said to have died worth above Ather.I
160,000k When he w as upon the stage, he entered
into his part to such a degree, as sometimes to be seiz-llbi ;•
ed with a perfect ecstacy : Plutarch mentions it as re¬
ported of him, that whilst he was representing Atreus
deliberating how he should revenge himself on Thy-
estes, he was so transported beyond himself in the heat
of action, that with his truncheon he smote one of the
servants crossing the stage, and laid him dead on the
spot.
JESTIMATIO CAPITIS, a term met with in old
law books for a fine anciently ordained to be paid for
offences committed against persons of quality, accord¬
ing to their several degrees.
.ESTIVAL, in a general sense, denotes something
connected with, or belonging to, summer. Hence, festi¬
val sign, festival solstice, &c.
ESTUARIA, in Geography, denotes an arm of the
sea, which runs a good way within land. Such is the
Bristol channel, and naany of the friths of Scotland.
ESTUARIES, in apcient baths, were secret pas¬
sages from the hypocaustum into the chambers.
ESTUARY, among physicians, a vapour bath, or
any other instrument for conveying heat to the body.
ESYMNIUM, in antiquity, a monument erected
to the memory of the heroes by Esymnus the Mega-
rean. He, consulting the oracle in what manner the
Megareans might be most happily governed, was an¬
swered, If they held consultation with the more nvme*
rous: whom he taking for the dead, built the said mo¬
nument, and a senate-house that took within its compass
the monument imagining, that thus the dead would
assist at their consultations. (Pausanias).
AETH, or Ath, a strong little town in the Au¬
strian Netherlands and province of Hainault, situated
on the river Dender, about twenty miles south-west of
Brussels.
ETHALIA, or Ilua, in Ancient Geography, now
Elba ; an island on the coast of Etruria, in compass
an hundred miles, abounding in iron. It was so called
from ct&ctto, smoke, which issued from the shops of
Vulcan.
ETHELSTAN, see Athelstan.
ETHER, is usually understood of a thin, subtile
matter, or medium, >much finer and rarer than air j
which commencing from the limits of our atmosphere,
possesses the whole heavenly space.—The word is Greek,
supposed to be formed from the verb eaku, “ to
burn, to flame 5” some ©f the ancients, particularly A-
naxagorasl supposing it to be of the nature of fire.
The philosophers cannot conceive that the largest
part of the creation should be perfectly void ; and there¬
fore they fill it with a species of matter under the de¬
nomination of aether. But they vary extremely as to
the nature and character of this aether. Some con¬
ceive it as a body suigeneris, appointed only to fill up
the vacuities between the heavenly bodies j and there¬
fore confined to the regions above our atmosphere.
Others suppose it of so subtile and penetrating a nature,
as to pervade the air and other bodies, and possess the
pores and intervals thereof. Others deny the existence
of any such specific matter ; and think the air itself, by
that immense tenuity and expansion it is found capable
A E T [ 233 ] A E T
ther. of, may diffuse itself through the interstellar spaces, and
v—^ be the only matter found therein.
In effect, aether, being no object of our sense, but
the mere work of imagination, brought only upon the
stage for the sake of hypothesis, or to solve some phe¬
nomenon, real or imaginary; authors take the liberty
to modify it how they please. Some suppose it of an
elementary nature, like other bodies; and only distin¬
guished by its tenuity, and the other affections conse¬
quent thereon : which is the philosophical aether. Ci¬
thers will have it of another species, and not elemen¬
tary ; but rather a sort of fifth element, of a purer,
more refined, and spirituous nature, than the substances
about our earth ; and void of the common affections
thereof, as gravity, &c. The heavenly spaces being
the supposed region or residence of a more exalted class
of beings, the medium must be more exalted in propor¬
tion. Such is the ancient and popular idea of aether,
or sethereal matter.
The term tether being thus embarrassed with a va¬
riety of ideas, and arbitrarily applied to so many dif¬
ferent things, the later and severer philosophers choose
to set it aside, and in lieu thereof substitute other more
determinate ones. Thus, the Cartesians use the term
materia subtilis; which is their aether : and Sir Isaac
Newton, sometimes a subtile spirit, as in the close of
his Principia ; and sometimes a subtile or (ethereal me¬
dium, as in his Optics.
Heat, Sir Isaac Newton observes, is communicated
through a vacuum almost as readily as through air : but
such communication cannot be without some interja¬
cent body, to act as a medium. And such body may
be subtile enough to penetrate the pores of glass, and
may permeate those of all other bodies, and consequent¬
ly be diffused through all the parts of space.
The existence of such an gethereal medium being set¬
tled, that author proceeds to its properties j inferring
it to be not only rarer and more fluid than air, but ex¬
ceedingly more elastic and active ; in virtue of which
properties he shows, that a great part of the phenome¬
na of nature may be produced by it. To the weight,
e. g. of this medium, he attributes gravitation, or the
weight of all other bodies j and to its elasticity the
elastic force of the air and of nervous fibres, and the
emission, refraction, reflection, and other phenomena of
light j as also, sensation, muscular motion, &c. In
fine, this same matter seems the primum mobile, the first
source or spring of physical action in the modern system.
The Cartesian aether is supposed not only to pervade,
but adequately to fill, all the vacuities of bodies: and
thus to make an absolute plenum in the universe.
But Sir Isaac Newton overturns this opinion, from
divers considerations; by showing, that the celestial
spaces are void of all sensible resistance: and, hence it
follows, that the matter contained therein must be im¬
mensely rare, in regard the resistance of bodies is chief¬
ly as their density : so that if the heavens were thus
adequately filled with a medium or matter, how subtile
soever, they would resist the motion of the planets and
comets much more than quicksilver or gold. But it
has been supposed that what Newton has said of aether
is to be considered only as a conjecture, and especially
no new proofs of its existence have been adduced
*ince his time.
The late discoveries in electricity have thrown grea/
Vol. I. Part J. +
light upon this subject, and rendered it extremely pro- JEther
bable that the aether so often talked of is no other than |]
the electric fluid, or solar light, which diffuses itself J&tites.
throughout the whole system of nature. u-—y—,
^Ether, in Chemistry, a light, volatile, and very
inflammable liquid, produced by distillation of acids
with rectified spirit of wine. See Chemistry Index.
./ETHEREAL, yEthereus, something that belongs
to, or partakes of, the nature of .Ether. Thus we
say, the (ethereal space, (ethereal regions, &c.
Some of the ancients divided the universe, with re¬
spect to the matter contained therein, into elementary
and aethereal.
Under the aethereal world was included all that space
above the uppermost element, viz. fire. This they
supposed to be perfectly homogeneous, incorruptible,
unchangeable, &c. The Chaldees placed an aethereal
world between the empyreum and the region of the
fixed stars. Besides which, they sometimes also speak
of a second aethereal world, meaning by it the starry orb :
and a third aethereal world, by which is meant the pla¬
netary region.
ETHIOPIA. See Ethiopia and Abyssinia.
ETHIOPS, Mineral, Martial, and Antimonial.
See Chemistry Index.
ETHUSA, Fool’s Parsley, in Botany, See Bo¬
tany Index.
AETIANS, in church history, a branch of Arlans,
who maintained that the Son and Holy Ghost are in
all things dissimilar to the Father. See Aetius.
El IOLOGY, is that part of pathology which is
employed in exploring the causes of diseases.
AETION, a celebrated painter, who has left us an
excellent picture of Roxana and Alexander, which he
exhibited at the Olympic games j it represents a mag¬
nificent chamber, where Roxana is sitting on a bed of a
most splendid appearance, which is rendered still more
brilliant by her beauty. She looks downwards, in a
kind of confusion, being struck with the presence of
Alexander standing before her. A number of little Cu¬
pids flutter about, some holding up the curtain, as if
to show Roxana to the prince, whilst others are busied
in undressing the lady; some pull Alexander by the
cloak, who appears like a young bashful bridegroom,
and present him to his mistress: he lays his crown at
her feet, being accompanied by Ephestion, who holds
a torch in his hand, and leans upon a youth, who re¬
presents Hymen. Several other little Cupids are re¬
presented playing with his arms; some carry his lance,
stooping under so heavy a weight j others bear along
his buckler, upon which one of them is seated, whom
the rest carry in triumph ; another lies in ambush in his
armour, waiting to frighten the rest as they pass by.
This picture gained Action so much reputation, that
the president of the games gave him his daughter in
marriage.
EtitES, or Eagle-stone, in Natural History,'
a flinty or crustated stone, hollow within, and contain¬
ing a nucleus, which, on shaking, rattles within. It
was formerly in repute for several extraordinary magi¬
cal as well as medical powers ; such as preventing abor¬
tion, discovering thieves, and other ridiculous proper¬
ties. The word is formed from «tsre5, “ eagle,” the
popular tradition being, that it is found in the eagle’s
nest, whither it is supposed to be carried vvbile the fe-
G g male
A E T
[ 23+ ]
A E T
Inconsist¬
ent ac-
sounts con¬
cerning the
magnitude
sf iKtria.
male sits, to prevent Iter eggs from being rotten. It
is found in several parts j nearTrevoux in France, one
can scarcely dig a new feet, tvithout finding considerable
strata or beds of the coarser or ferruginous kind. They
are originally soft, and of the colour of yellow ochre.
But the finest and most valued of all the eagle-stones,
are accidental states of one or other of our common
pebbles.
AETIUS, one of the most zealous defenders of
Arianism, was born in Syria, and flourished about the
year 336. After being servant to a grammarian, of
whom he learned grammar and logic, he was ordained
deacon, and at length bishop, by Eudoxus patriarch of
Constantinople. Aetius was banished into Phrygia on
account of his religious opinions } but was recalled from
exile on the accession of Julian, and was much esteem¬
ed by that emperor. He died, it is supposed, at Con¬
stantinople, about the year 366. St Epiphanius has
preserved 47 of his propositions against the Trinity.
His followers were called Aetians.
Aetius, a famous physician, born at Amida in Me¬
sopotamia, and the author of a work entitled letva-
biblos, which is a collection from the writings of those
physicians who went before him. He lived, according
to Dr Freind, at the end of the fifth or the beginning
of the sixth century.
Aetius, governor of Gallia Narbonensis in the reign
of Valentinian III. forced the Franks who were passing
into Gaul to repass the Rhine. He defeated the Goths ;
and routed Attila king of the Huns, who invaded Gaul
with an army of 700,000 men. But the emperor,
jealous of the merit of this great man, killed him in
454» wM1 own hand> under the pretence that he
had permitted the invasion of the Huns, after Attila’s
defeat.
AETNA, (in the Itineraries JEthana, supposed from
»i0<y, “ to burn 5” according to Bochart, from athuna,
a furnace, or cetuna, darkness), now Monte Gibello :
a volcano or burning mountain of Sicily, situated in
N. Lat. 38°. E. Long. 130.
This mountain, famous from the remotest antiquity,
both for its bulk and terrible eruptions, stands in the
eastern part of the island, in a very extensive plain, cal¬
led Val di Demoni, from the notion of its being inhabi¬
ted by devils, who torment the spirits ol the damned in
the bowels of this volcano.
Concerning the dimensions of Mount .ZEtna, we can
scarcely extract any thing consistent, even from the ac¬
counts of the latest and most ingenious travellers. Pin¬
dar, who lived about 435 years before Christ, calls it
the Pillar of Heaven, on account ol its great height.
We are sorry to detract from the merit of Mr Bry- ^tna
done, or to involve in obscurity what he has been aty*.
so much pains to elucidate } but every person who com¬
pares the account of Mount AEtna’s circumference, gi¬
ven by Signior Recupero, and to which Mr Brydone
seems to have assented, with its apparent circumference
on the map prefixed to that gentleman’s tour through
Sicily and Malta, must at once be struck with the pro¬
digious disparity. Indeed, it is plain, that in the map,
the geographer has not left room for any such moun¬
tain : nor can we help thinking, that, by comparing
the distances of some of the Sicilian towns from one
another, Signior Recupero’s dimensions will be found
enormously exaggerated.—Certain it is, that where the
geographer has placed Catania, vyhich stands at the foot
of Mount AEtna, on one side, there is no more than 2S
miles from the most distant point of the river Alcan¬
tara, which forms the boundary on the opposite side j
so that a circle, whose radius is 14 or 15 miles, must
encompass as much space as we can possibly think is
occupied by the basis ot Mount Hina. Thus we shall
reduce the circumference of this famous mountain to
between 80 and 90 miles; and even when we do so, it
is perhaps too great.
But if we are embarrassed with the circumference of
AEtna, we are much more so with the accounts relating
to its height j and one circumstance, particularly, cre¬
ates almost unsurmountable difficulties. It is agreed up¬
on by all travellers, and among the rest by Sir William
Hamilton, that, from Catania, where the ascent first
begins, to the summit, is not less than 30 miles. The
descent on the other side we have no account of j but
whatever supposition we make, the height of the moun¬
tain must be prodigious. It we suppose it likewise to be
30 miles, and that Mount AEtna can be represented by
an equilateral triangle, each of whose sides is 30 miles,
we will have an amazing elevation indeed, no less than
26'miles perpendicular!. Such a height being beyond
all credibility, we must contract the sides of our tri¬
angle, in proportion to its basis. We shall begin with
allowing ten miles for the difference between a straight
line from Catania to the summit, and the length of
the road, occasioned by the inequalities of the moun¬
tain ; and supposing the descent on the other side to be
somewhat shorter, we may call it 15 miles. Mount
AEtna will now be represented by a scalene triangle,
whose base is 30 miles, its longest side 20, and its
shortest 13 5 from which proportions we will still find
its height to be betwixt eight and nine miles.—This is pimemii
still incredible : and when all the various relations con-unceruii
cerning the height of AEtna are compared, we hope it
cue x iiuiT' oj neaven, on aeuuuut m no gicai ucigui. ......       y 7 . y-
AU modern writers likewise agree, that this mountain will not be thought presumptuous in us to give it as
onrl • l.nf rtlffpr mnpli hoth our oninion. that the true dimensions of this mountain
is very high, and very large ; but differ much both
as to its height and magnitude: some making it no
less than twelve miles high, others eight, others six,
some four ; while Mr Brydone, and Sir William Ha¬
milton, who lately ascended to its highest summit,
reduce its height to little more than two miles j nay
by some it is reduced to 10,036 feet, somewhat less
than two miles. No less remarkable are the differ¬
ences concerning its circumference: some making it
only 60 miles round, others 100 j and Signior Recupe¬
ro, from whom Mr Brydone had his information in
this respect, affirms it to be no less than 183 miles in
eireuit.
our opinion, that the true dimensions of this mountain
are as yet unknown. The following measures are given
by different authors.
Height above the surface of the sea, 10,036 feet-
One hundred and eighty miles circumference at the
base.—Faujas de St Fond, in his Volcans du Vivarais.
Height 12,000 feet.—Brydone. Tour to Sicily.
Height 2300 toises.—La Platriere, said as from Re¬
cupero.
Height 1930 toises.—Diameter 30 miles.—Mentelle
Geogr. comp.
Others make its height only 2000 toises, and its su¬
perficies 300 square miles.
Concerning
/
A E T [ 235 3 A E T
ma< Concerning the products and general appearance of
v——1 this volcano, authors are much better agreed.—The
■ralap-journey from Catania to its summit has been lately de-
incc’ scribed by several travellers, M. D’Orville, Mr Bry-
done, Sir William Hamilton, M. Houel, and the
abbe Spallanzani. They all agree, that this single
mountain affords an epitome of the different climates
throughout the whole world : towards the foot, it is
extremely hot; farther up, more temperate j and grows
gradually more and more cold the higher we ascend.
At the very top, it is perpetually covered with snow :
from thence the whole island is supplied with that ar¬
ticle, so necessary in a hot climate, and without which
the natives say Sicily could not be inhabited. So
great is the demand for this commodity, that the bi¬
shop’s revenues, which are considerable, arise from the
sale of Mount ^Etna’s snow ; and he is said to draw
1000I. a-year from one small portion lying on the north
side of the mountain. Great quantities of snow and
ice are likewise exported to Malta and Italy, making
a considerable branch of commerce. On the north side
of this snowy region, Mr Brydone was assured that
there are several small lakes which never thaw ; and
that the snow, mixed with the ashes and salt of the
mountain are accumulated to a vast depth. The quan-.
tity of salts contained in this mountain, he, with great
probability, conjectures to be one reason of the preser¬
vation of its snows $ for salt increases the coldness of
snow to a surprising degree.
erde- j[n mjjdle of the snowy region stands the great
C(*' cratei', or mouth of iEtna j from which, though con¬
trary to the usual method of travellers, we shall begin
our particular account of this mountain. Sir William
Hamilton describes the crater as a little mountain,
about a quarter of a mile perpendicular, and very steep,
situated in the middle of a gently inclining plain, of
about nine miles in circumference. It is entirely form¬
ed of stones and ashes j and, as he was informed
by sevei’al people of Catania, had been thrown up
about 25 or 30 years before the time (1769) he vi¬
sited Mount ./Etna, Before this mountain was thrown
up, there was only a prodigious large chasm, or gulf,
in the middle of the above-mentioned plain j and it has
been remarked, that about once in 100 years the top
of /Etna falls in j which undoubtedly must be the case
at certain periods, or the mountain behoved continually
to increase in height. As this little mountain, though
emitting smoke from every pore, appeared solid and firm,
Sir William Hamilton and his companions went up to
the very top. In the middle is a hollow, about two miles
and a half in circumference, according to Sir William
Hamilton ; three miles and a half, according to Mr Bry¬
done *, and three or four, according to M. jD’Orville.
The inside is crusted over with salts and sulphur of dif¬
ferent colours. It goes shelving down from the top,
like an inverted cone j the depth, in Sir W. Hamilton’s
opinion, nearly corresponding to the height of the
little mountain. From many places of this space issue
volumes of sulphurous smoke, which being much hea¬
vier than the circumambient air, instead of ascending
in it, roll down the side of the mountain, till, coming
to a more dense atmosphere, it shoots off horizontally,
and forms a large track in the air, according to the di¬
rection of the wind j which, happily for our travellers,
carried it exactly to the side opposite to which they
were placed. In the middle of this funnel is the tre- y£tna,
mendous and unfathomable gulf, so much celebrated, <   v1 ^
in all ages, both as the terror of this life, and the place
of punishment in the next. From this gulf continually
issue terrible and confused noises, which in eruptions
are increased to such a degree as to be heard at a pro¬
digious distance. Its diameter is probably very differ¬
ent at different times : for Sir W. Hamilton observed,
by the wind clearing away the smoke from time to time,
that the inverted hollow cone was contracted almost to
a point; while M. D’Orville and Mr Brydone found
the opening very large. Both Mr Brydone and Sir W.
Hamilton found the crater too hot to descend into it j
but M. D’Orville was bolder: and accordingly he
and his fellow traveller, fastened to ropes which two or
three men held at a distance for fear of accidents, de¬
scended as near as possible to the brink of the gulf;
but the small flames and smoke which issued from it on
every side, and a greenish sulphur, and pumice stones,
quite black, which covered the margin, would not
permit them to come so near as to have a full view.
They only saw distinctly, in the middle, a mass of
matter which rose in the shape of a cone, to the
height of above 60 feet, and which towards the base, as
far as their sight could reach, might be 600 or 800 feet.
While they were observing this substance, some mo¬
tion was perceived on the north side, opposite to that
whereon they stood ; and immediately the mountain
began to send forth smoke and ashes. This eruption
was preceded by a sensible increase of its internal roar*-
ings 5 which, however, did not continue $ but after a
moment’s dilatation, as if to give it vent, the volcano
resumed its former tranquillity $ but as it was by no
means proper to make a long stay in such a place, our
travellers immediately returned to their attendants.
On the summit of Mount /Etna, Sir W. Hamilton
observes, that he was sensible of a difficulty in respiration
from the too great subtility of the air, independent of
what arose from the sulphureous smoke of the moun¬
tain. Mr Brydone takes no notice of this : which pro¬
bably rose from the air being in a more rarefied state
at the time of Sir W. Hamilton’s observation than of
Mr Brydone’s; the barometer, as observed by the for¬
mer, standing at 18 inches and 10 lines, by the latter
at 19 inches 6|- lines.
In these high regions there is generally a very vio¬
lent wind, which, as all our travellers found it constant¬
ly blowing from the south, is perhaps most frequently
directed from that point. Here Mr Brydone’s thermo¬
meter fell to 27°.
The top of /Etna being above the common region Splendous
of vapour, the heavens appear with exceeding great °f the stars
splendour.—Mr Brydone and his company observed, as
they ascended in the night, that the number of stars ^tnaf *
seemed to be indefinitely increased, and the light of each
of them appeared brighter than usual; the whiteness of
the milky-way was like a pure flame which shot across
the heavens ; and, with the naked eye, they could ob¬
serve clusters of stars that were invisible from below.
Had Jupiter been visible, he is of opinion that some of
his satellites might have been discovered with the naked
eye, or at least with a very small pocket glass. He like¬
wise took notice of several of those meteors called fal¬
ling stars; which appeared as much elevated as when
viewed from the plain j a proof, according to Mr Bry-
G g 2 done,
A E T [ 236 ] A E T
vEtna. done, that “ these bodies move in regions much beyond
'“—-v the bounds that some philosophers have assigned to our
atmosphere.”
To have a full and clear prospect from the summit
Extensive ]yjount ^tna, it is necessary to be there before sun-
pi aspect. _ ag tjle vap0Urs raised by the sun, in the day time,
■will obscure every object: accordingly, our travellers
took care to arrive there early enough 5 and all agree,
that the beauty of the prospect from thence cannot be
expressed.—Here Mr Brydone and Sir W. Hamilton
had a view of Calabria in Italy, with the sea beyond it;
the Lipari islands, and Stromboli, a volcano, at about
70 miles distance, appeared just under their feet; tire
whole island of Sicily, with its rivers, towns, harbours,
&c. appeared distinct, as if seen on a map. Massa, a
Sicilian author, affirms, that the African coast, as well
as that of Naples, with many of its islands, have been
discovered from the top of ./Etna. The visible horizon
here is no less than 800 or 900 miles in diameter. The
pyramidal shadow of the mountain reaches across the
whole island, and far into the sea on the other side,
forming a visible track in the air, which as the sun rises
above the horizon, is shortened, and at last confined to
the neighbourhood of ./Etna. The most beautiful part
of the scene, however, in Mr Brydone’s opinion, is the
mountain itself, the island of Sicily, and the nume¬
rous islands lying round it. These last seem to be close
to the skirts of /Etna the distances appearing reduced
to nothing.
Division This mountain is divided into three zones, whiclr
iito three might properly enough be distinguished by the names
sjnes. 0f torrid, temperate, and frigid; they are, however,
known by the names of the Piedmontese, or Regions
cidta, the cultivated or fertile region •, the sylvosa,
woody, or temperate zone ; and the Regions dese?'ta,
the frigid or desert zone or region. All these are
Hegione plainly distinguished from the summit. The Regions
deserta, deserta, is marked out by a circle of snow and ice,
which extends on all sides to the distance of about eight
miles, beginning at the foot of the crater. Great
part of this region is smooth and even. This is imme¬
diately succeeded by the sijlvosa, or woody region j
which forms a circle of the most beautiful green, sur-
ftegione rounding the mountain on all sides. This region is va-
syWosa. negated with a vast number of mountains of a conical
form, thrown up by /Etna in those eruptions which
burst out from its sides. Sir W. Hamilton counted 44
on the Gatania side, each having its crater \ many with
large trees flourishing both within and without the
crater. All these, except a few of late date, have ac¬
quired a wonderful degree of fertility. The circum¬
ference of this zone, or great circle, according to Be-
cupero, is not less than 70 or 80 miles. It is every¬
where succeeded by the Regions culta ; which is much
broader than the rest, and extends on all sides to the
foot of the mountain. Here terrible devastations are
sometimes committed by the eruptions; and the whole
region is likewise full of conical mountains thrown up
by them. The circumference of this region is, by Re-
cupero, reckoned 183 miles j but we have already gi¬
ven our reasons for rejecting these dimensions.—This
region is bounded by the sea to the south and south¬
east $ and on all other sides, by the rivers Semetus and
Alcantara, which form the boundaries of Mount
/Etna..
The, woody region descends eight or nine miles be- j£t,,s
low the Regions deserta, but differs greatly in the tem- -y,
perature of its climate. Sir W. Hamilton observed a
gradual decrease of the vegetation as he advanced 5 the
under part being covered with large timber trees, which
grew gradually less as he approached the third region,
and at last degenerated into the small plants of the
northern climates. He also observed quantities of ju¬
niper and tansy ; and was informed by his guide, that
later in the season (he visited /Etna in June 1769)
there are a great many curious plants, and in some
places rhubarb and saffron in great plenty. In Car¬
rera’s history of Catania, there is a list of all the plants
and herbs of /Etna.
This region is extolled by Mr Brydone as one of
the most delightful spots on earth. He lodged for a
night in a large cave near the middle, formed by one
of the most ancient lavas. It is called La Spelonca del
Capriole, or the goats cavern } because it is frequented
by those animals, which take refuge there in bad wea¬
ther. Here his rest was disturbed by a mountain thrown
up in the eruption 1766. It discharged great quantities
of smoke, and made several explosions like heavy can¬
non fired at a distance j but they could observe no ap¬
pearance of lire.
This gentleman likewise visited the eastern side of
the Regions sylvosa, intending to have ascended that
way to the summit, and descended again on the south
side to Catania, but found it impracticable. On this Empliot
side, part of the woody region was destroyed in 1755,
by an immense torrent of boiling water, which is¬
sued from the great crater. Its traces were still very
visible, about a mile and a half broad, and in some
places more. The soil was then only beginning to
recover its vegetative power, which it seems this tor¬
rent had destroyed for 14 years. Near this place are
some beautiful woods of cork, and evergreen oak, grow¬
ing absolutely out of the lava, the soil having hardly
filled the crevices $ and not far oft’, our traveller obser¬
ved several little mountains that seemed to have been
formed by a late eruption. Each of these had a regu¬
lar cup, or crater, on the top j and, in some, the middle
gulf, or voragine, as the Sicilians call it, was still
open. Into these gulfs Mr Brydone tumbled down
stones, and heard the noise for a long time after. All
the fields round, to a considerable distance, were co¬
vered with large burnt stones discharged from these
little volcanoes.
The woody region, especially the east side, called Over-
Carpinetts, abounds with very large chesnut trees j the 8™*®
most remarkable of which has been called, from its size, jr^eg
Castagno di Cento Cavalli, or chesnut tree of a hun¬
dred horse. Mr Brydone was greatly disappointed at
the sight of this tree, as it is only a bush of five large
ones growing together : but his guides assured him,
that all these five were once united into one stem ; and
Signior Recupero told him, that he himself had been
at the expence of carrying up peasants with tools to
dig round it, and found all the stems united below
ground in one root. The circumference, as measured
by Mess. Brydone and Glover who accompanied him,
amounted to 204 feet. Here the barometer stood at 26
inches 5 lines and a half, indicating an elevation of
near 4000 feet.
The Piedmontese district is covered with towns, vil- R«e)0*c
’ cult*.
A E T f 237 ] A E T
Itna. Iftges, monasteries, &c. and is well peopled, notvvith-
L -y—standing the danger of such a situation ; but the ferti¬
lity of the soil tempts people to inhabit that country 5
and their superstitious confidence in the saints, with
the propensity mankind have to despise danger which
they do not see, render them as secure there as in any
other place. Here, Sir William Hamilton observes,
they keep their vines low, contrary to the custom of those
who inhabit Mount Vesuvius •, and they produce a
stronger wine, but not in such abundance : here also
many terrible eruptions have burst forth j particularly
?rra- one in 1699. At the foot of the mountain raised by
1 5 ca- that eruption, is a hole, through which Sir William
Hamilton descended, by means of a rope, into several
subterraneous caverns, branching out, and extending
much farther than he chose to venture ; the cold there
wras excessive, and a violent wind extinguished some
of the torches. Many other caverns are known in this
and the other regions of iEtna; particularly one near
this place, called La Spelonca della Palumbo, (from the
wild pigeons building their nests there). Here Mr
Brydone was told that some people had lost their senses,
from having advanced too far, imagining they saw de¬
vils and damned spirits.
j > Acis. (.jjjg region the river A’cA, so much celebrated by
the poets, in the fable of Acis and Galatea, takes its
rise. It bursts out of the earth at once in a large
stream, runs with great rapidity, and about a mile from
its source throws itself into the sea. Its water is re¬
markably clear ; and so extremely cold, that it is rec¬
koned dangerous to drink it: it is said, however, to
have a poisonous quality, from being impregnated with
vitriol ; in consequence of which cattle have been kill¬
ed by it. It never freezes, but is said often to contract
a greater degree of cold than ice.
' '’s 0'1' The following additional particulars relating to the
1 li0BS‘ eruptions, magnitude, scenery, and products of this ce¬
lebrated volcano, are chiefly collected from the Voy¬
age Pittoresque of M. Houel, who appears to have
surveyed it with greater accuracy than any former
traveller.
The form of Mount iEtna is that of a cone, very
broad at the base, which is more than 40 miles in cir¬
cumference. From the bottom you ascend ten leagues
before reaching its summit on the south side ; and on
any of the other sides, the way being not so straight,
Would be considerably longer, ^tna is entirely com¬
posed of substances that have been discharged from the
volcano in its various explosions.
It appears from the quantities of marine bodies depo¬
sited all over the under part of iEtna, that it must have
been once covered by the sea to at least one half of its
present height. The whole island of Sicily, and the
greatest part of Mount iEtna, have been, in our author’s
opinion, formed under water. But the period when the
eruptions from this volcano first commenced, the man¬
ner in which the sea subsided, and the precise time at
which it fell so low as its present level on the shores of
Sicily, are facts concerning which we have no certain
knowledge.
The general principle, however, Mr Houel thinks
may be regarded as undeniable. When this mountain
stood half under water, the currents of the ocean
would gradually accumulate upon it large masses, both
of its own productions, such as shells, and bones of
fishes, and of various other matters, which would be Mala.
intermixed with the volcanic matters discharged from ’   y—»
the focus of the burning mount. In a long series of
ages these strata of heterogeneous matters wrould na¬
turally become so considerable, as to form the enor¬
mous mass of mountains with which the volcano is
now surrounded. The currents of the ocean might
often convey the volcanic matters to a considerable
distance from the volcanic focus. And there are moun¬
tains at no small distance from TEtna, which seem to
have been produced in this manner. Those of Carlin-
tini, at the distance of 15 leagues, consist chiefly of a
mixture of pozzolana with calcareous matters. At
Lintini, and in places around it, there are distinct beds
of pozzolana, scorirn, and real lava, as well as others in
which all these matters are blended together in a mass
of calcareous matter. At Palazzolo, about 24 miles
from the city of Syracuse, the sides of the hills having
been cut by the streams which run down them, in many
places to a considerable depth, display huge masses of
lava, and extensive beds of pozzolana. In the neigh¬
bourhood of Noto there are also volcanic productions
to be found.
At Pachino, where the island of Sicily forms an
angle, there is a range of hills extending for several
miles, which consist all of pozzolana.
I he province of Val di Noto is more homogeneous in
the matters of which its soil consists, than the two other
dales of Sicily. These, in every hill which they con¬
tain, exhibit a vast variety of different matters. So
amazing, indeed, is that variety, that they may be
considered as exhibiting a collection of specimens of all
the different materials which enter into the composition
of the globe. In those two dales few volcanic pro¬
ductions have been yet observed. But it is not to be
inferred for this reason that they contain but few.
They may be hereafter discovered in great plenty. In
the volcano of water at Maccalubbe, between Ara-
gona and Girginti j in the baths of Castellamare, near
Alcamo and Segeste ; in the baths of Termini ; in the
isles of Lipari; in the hot waters of Ali, between
Messina and Taormina, by the lake in the valley of
Caltagirone 5 in all these places, which comprehend the
whole circumference of Sicily, the influence of the
volcano of iEtna is, in some measure, felt. Nay, it
would even seem, that in these places there are so many
volcanic craters. All of these are so disposed as to
show that they existed prior not only to the volcanic
matters, but to the other substances intermixed with
them.
The waters of the sea have, in former times, risen
much higher than at present. But how they retreated,
or whether they are to continue stationary at their
present height, we know not. For more than 2000
years, during which Sicily has been inhabited, and has
had cities and harbours, the sea has not been ob¬
served either to recede or encroach in any considerable
degree.
When the sea subsided from Mount ./Etna, the moun¬
tain must have been covered over with such matters as
the sea usually deposits ; consequently with calcare¬
ous matters. A part of those matters would be in¬
durated by the action of the atmosphere, while the
rest would be carried down by the rain waters, and
again conveyed into the ocean. The torrents of rain
water
G. - '
A E T
[ 238 ]
A E T
iEtn*.
Account of
the north¬
east sice of
the moun¬
tain.
water whicli pour down the sides of IMount j^ELtna have
furrowed its sides, by cutting out for themselves chan¬
nels j and they have removed from its summit, and are
still removing to a further distance, all the extraneous
bodies upon it. In many places, they flow at present
over a channel of lava, having cut through all the
matters which lay above it: still, however, there re¬
main in many places both calcareous matter and other
marine productions, which show that this volcano has
been once covered by the waters of the ocean. But
these are daily wasting away ; not only the rains, but
men likewise, who carry them off as materials for lime
and for building, conspire to deface them.
No fewer than 77 cities, towns, and villages, are
scattered over the sides of vEtna. Tdiey are most nu¬
merous on the south side, where the temperature of the
air is milder than on the north. Reckoning those ci¬
ties, towns, and villages, one with another, to contain
each 1200 or 1500 souls, the whole number ot the in¬
habitants of Mount yEtna will then be 92,400, or
II5,500. But it is certainly much more considerable.
Plate IV. fig. I. exhibits a view of the north-east
side of the mountain, taken at sea. The lower part
presents to the eye very extensive plains entirely cover¬
ed with lava of different thickness, on which vegeta¬
tion has not yet made any progress. The nearer the
shore the more barren is the ground 5 while the fertili¬
ty of the soil increases as we advance farther inwards.
The mountain is everywhere full of vast excavations 5
which our author considers as a proof, that instead of
increasing in bulk it is actually in a state of decay
Supposed anti diminution. The vast torrents of lava, which
state of de 0V6rsPrea^ si^®s ^ I1’0111 time to time, he con-
say.6 ° "siders as insufficient to repair the waste occasioned by
rains, rivulets, and torrents flowing down from the
summit. Unless the eruptions, therefore, become
more frequent than they have been for some time past,
he supposes that, by degrees, the height of the moun¬
tain must be reduced to that of the surrounding beds
of lava. He had not an opportunity of measuring
the altitude of iEtna himself; but he observes, that
it had been done by the celebrated M. de Saussure,
Saussure’s who found the elevation to be 10,036 feet. This
account of wag done on the 5th of June 1773, at 20 minutes af-
oUEtna 4 ter seven the raorn*nS- The height of the barome¬
ter on the most elevated part at the brink of the cra¬
ter was 18 inches ll-J lines 5 which, by the necessary
corrections, is reduced to 18 inches io-J^- lines. At
the same time the mercury at Catania, placed only
one foot above the level of the sea, stood at 28 inches
2T*g- lines •, which must be reduced to 28 inches 1^
lines, on account of the necessary correction for the
thermometer.
Mountains From Giana our author had an opportunity of con-
®f calcare- templating the vast number of calcareous mounts scat-
ous matter. ^ered over that part of iEtna j which (he says) “ are
nothing more than fragments, the slender remains of
those enormous masses which have been deposited all
around the base of Mount iEtna ; and are a very curi¬
ous monument of the revolutions which this mountain
has undergone.” They are of a true calcareous na¬
ture j and the inhabitants are accustomed to supply
themselves with limestone from them. They also use
stones of which these mounts are composed for the pur¬
poses of building j as the lava is so hard that it can¬
3
not be cut without the greatest difficulty, and they j£tll8
have no other stone in these parts.
Leaving this place, our author travelled over several
extensive plains of lava, covered on each side of the
way with stunted trees, but without any cultivation :
the lava being of that kind which is very unfavourable
to the growth of vegetables. Arriving at St Leonardo,
he observed the course of the eruption of water which
happened in 1755*
This water took its course down the west side of the Panicuiai
mountain : and the channel which it cut for itself isaccountol
still visible. The eruption of water from burning moun-^“uP-
tains is still much less frequent than that of lava or
half vitrified solid matters, ashes, &c. though that of
water, and even mixed with the shells of marine ani¬
mals (though we are not told whether it was salt or
not), has sometimes been observed in other volcanoes,
particularly Vesuvius. The eruption we now speak of
happened in the month ot February 1755’ ^ wa3
preceded by an exceedingly thick black smoke issuing
from the crater, intermixed with flashes of fire. This
smoke gradually became thicker, and the bursts of
flame more frequent. Earthquakes and subterraneous
thunder convulsed the mountain, and struck the in¬
habitants of the adjacent parts with the utmost terror.
On Sunday the second of March, the mountain was
seen to emit a huge column of smoke, exceedingly
dense and black, with a dreadful noise in the bowels
of the earth, accompanied also with violent flashes ol
lightning. From time to time there were loud cracks,
like the explosions of cannon ; the mountain appeared
to shake from its foundations $ the air on that side
next Mascali became very dark, and loud peals of
thu»der were heard. These seemed to issue from two
caverns, considerably below the summit, on the side
of the mountain, and were accompanied with violent
blasts of wind like a tempest.
These terrible phenomena continued and increased ;
./Etna seemed ready to swallow up at once all those ma¬
terials which it had been for so many years disgorging,
or rather about to sink at once into the bowels of the
earth from whence it appeared to have been elevated.
The prospect was far beyond any idea that can be
given by description of this tremendous scene. The
inhabitants were alarmed beyond measure ; the sight
of the flames driven by the winds against the sides of
the mountain, the shocks of the earthquake, and the
fall of rocks, struck the imagination with a horror not
to be conceived. During this dreadful commotion,
an immense torrent of water was emitted from the
highest crater of the mountain. The whole summit
of ./Etna was at that time covered with a thick coating
of snow. Through this the boiling water directed its
course eastward; and, in its passage, met with fright¬
ful precipices. Over these it dashed with the utmost
violence, adding its tremendous roaring to the com¬
plicated horrors of this awful scene. The snow, melt¬
ing instantaneously as the boiling torrent advanced, in¬
creased its destructive power by augmenting its quan¬
tity, while the mischievous effects of the heat were
scarce diminished, by reason of the immense quantity of
boiling liquid which continued to pour from the sum¬
mit of the mountain.
This boiling torrent having dashed its; awful cata¬
racts from one chain of rocks to another, at length
reached
A E T [ 239 I A E T
tna. reached the cultivated plains, which it overflowed for
7—a number of miles. Here it divided itself into several
branches, forming as many deep and rapid rivers •,
which, after several other subdivisions, discharged them¬
selves into the sea.
Though the mountain continued to discharge water
in this manner only for half an hour, the ravages of it
were very terrible. Not only those of common inun¬
dations, such as tearing up trees, hurrying along rocks
and large stones, took place here, but the still more
dreadful effects of boiling water were felt. Every cul¬
tivated spot was laid waste, and every thing touched
by it was destroyed. Even those who were placed be¬
yond the reach of the torrent, beheld with inexpressible
horror the destruction occasioned by it j and though
the alarming noises which had so long issued from the
mountain now ceased in a great measure, the shocks
of earthquakes and the violent smoke which continued
to issue from the mountains, showed that the danger
was not over. Two new openings were now observed,
and two torrents of lava began to make their way
through the snow.
On the 7th of March a dreadful noise was again
heard in the bowels of the mountain, and a new co¬
lumn of very thick and black smoke began to issue
from it. A horrid explosion of small stones succeeded ;
some of which were carried as far as the hills of Mas-
cali, and great quantities of black sand to Messina,
and even quite over the strait to Reggio in Calabria.
On the shifting of the wind to the northward this
sand reached as far as the plains of Agosta. Two days
after the mountain opened again, and a new torrent of
lava was discharged 5 which, however, advanced very
slowly towards the plain, moving only at the rate of
a mile in a day. It continued to flow in this manner
for six days, when every thing appeared so quiet, that
the Canon Recupero set out to view the changes which
had taken place.
se of That gentleman’s design was to trace the course of
j1£ent the dreadful torrent of water above mentioned. This
nero. l,e was very easily enabled to do by the ravages it had
made ; and, by following the channel it had cut all
the way from the sea to the summit of the volcano, he
found that this immense quantity of water had issued
from the very bowels of the mountain. After issuing
from the crater, and increasing its stream by passing
through and melting the snow which lay immediately
below the summit, it destroyed in an instant a fine and
extensive forest of fir-trees. All of these were torn up
by the violence of the current, though many were no
less than 24 or 30 inches in diameter. He observed
that the great stream had, in its descent, divided itself
into four branches j and these had again subdivided
themselves into several smaller ones, easily distinguish¬
able by the quantity of sand they had deposited. Af¬
terwards reuniting their streams, they formed many
islands, and rivers 900 feet in breadth, and of a depth
which could not easily be determined. Proceeding
farther down, and still forcing its way among the beds
of old lava, the channel of the waters was widened to
1500 feet, until it was again contracted in the valleys
as-before. Every object which stood in the way of
this tremendous torrent was moved from its place.
Enormous rocks were not only hurried down, but se¬
veral of them moved to more elevated situations than
those they formerly occupied. Whole hills of lava jEma.
had been removed and broken to pieces, and their frag- -y—*"J
ments scattered along the course of the river, and the
valleys were Idled up by vast quantities of sand which
the waters had deposited. Our author observed, that
even at the time he visited the mountain, about ten
years after the eruption, the whole side of it still bore
the marks of this deluge.
On M. Houel’s arrival at Jaci Catena, he inquired
for the physician of the place j it being customary for
strangers to do so who want to learn any thing con¬
cerning the curiosities of the country, as the physi¬
cians there are generally those who have any preten¬
sions to literature. By this guide he was shown a Account of
well which they call llohj Water. There is a flighta remar^'
of steps from the surface of the ground to that of thea^ewc^’
w'ater. This well itself is 20 feet wide and 40 feet
deep. It is supplied by three different springs, each
of which is said to have a peculiar taste. The phy¬
sician informed our author, that one of them resem¬
bled milk in its taste ; another tasted like soap j and
the third had the taste of common water : but our au¬
thor, after tasting each of them, could not find any re¬
markable difference.
In his way to La Trizza, our author discovered Ancient
some very ancient baths with stoves. They had been
built here on account of a spring of warm sulphureous
w’ater, supposed to be excellent for the cure of cuta¬
neous disorders *, and for which purpose they are still
made use of. They are now called the Springs of St Springs of
Venera, of whom there is an image here. The foun-®1 ^rene,,l•
tain from which they flow is on a level with the surface
of the ground. The water tastes very disagreeably of
sulphur; and deposites a quantity of white impalpable
powder, adhering to herbs and stones over which it
passes. This substance our author calls the cream of
sulphur; though it is probably a selenitic substance
formed by the decomposition of the sulphur, and the
union of its acid with some calcareous matter which
held it in solution before.
From this place our author proceeded to the sea-port Basaltic
of Trizza, a small place, which with the ad jacent coun-rocks about
try contains only about 300 inhabitants. Off the har-^”**a‘
hour of this place is a basaltic rock, which seems to be
only the remains of a much larger one destroyed by the
action of the air. All round are long ranges of basaltes,
the species of which are very various.
The rocks of the Cyclops stand round the small har-Rocks cf
hour of La Trizza ; and from this view we perceive a the Cy-
number of rocks of very different heights. All of themc^0Ps'
appear more or less above water, though some are so
law that they cannot be seen without approaching
very near ; and this circumstance renders the harbour
inaccessible to vessels of any considerable burden, at
the same time that, by reason of the depth of the sea,
it is impossible either to cut or unite them by a mole.
The principal of these rocks is the extremity of an
island, one half of which is composed of lava placed on
a basaltic base ; over this is a crust of pozzolana, com¬
bined with a kind of white calcareous matter of a
pretty hard and compact consistence ; and which, by
the action of the air, assumes the appearance of knot¬
ty porous wood. On this subject our author observes, .
that “ the rock at some former period, had become
so hard as to split, and the clefts were then filled up
with.
A E T
[ 240 ]
A E T
iEtna.
Different
kinds of
hasaltes.
Fromon-
wltli a very hard matter which was porous on all sides
like scoriae. That matter afterwards split also j leav¬
ing large interstices, which in their turn have been
filled up with a kind of compound yellow matter. The
island appears to have been formerly inhabited, but is
at present destitute both of inhabitants and of cul¬
ture, only the people of La Trizza feed a few goats
upon it.”
To the southward of the harbour of La Trizza we
observe several fragments of basaltes, both in the form
of needles, and in that of prismatic columns of a very
regular form, and which may be easily separated from
one another. From the position in which these frag¬
ments are disposed, it appears that the mass to which
they belong must have sufl’ered some very violent shock 5
otherwise such huge rocks could never have been bro¬
ken, overturned, and scattered in directions so very dif¬
ferent from their original positions. In one of these
ruins there are some parts harder than the rest, which
withstand the action of the air, while the intervening
spaces yield to it, and appear to be thus destroyed. In
some others this effect is much more remarkable 5 be¬
cause the columns happen to be much farther advanced
towards a state of dissolution, the parts of which they
consist being already disjointed 5 and in each of those
which project we perceive a fissure: which shows that
each of these parts may be divided into two. “ They
are indeed (says our author) actually divided, and
display a convexity issuing from a concavity, like
a pile of hats placed one upon another, when they are
removed one by one ; which is a very curious singula¬
rity.”
Continuing his journey still southward, our author
Casteld^Aciarr^Ve^ ^ ^ie Proniontoiy °f the Castel d’Aci, This
described. the most singularly curious of all that are in the
neighbourhood of ./Etna. The ancient mass of it is in
enclosed between two bodies of lava of a more modern
origin. These compose the rocks on which Castel
d’Aci is situated, and which lie under the soil of the
adjacent country. Beyond that city are the immense
plains of the lower part of jjEtna. These gradually
rise till they reach the summit, which is hid among
the clouds. The promontory is almost entirely com¬
posed of basaltes, the interstices of which are filled up
with a yellowish matter, which seems to be a clay
nearly of the same nature with that formerly taken no¬
tice of in the island of La Trizza. It also covers the
mass of basaltes, and has produced both the superior
and anterior parts of the promontory. Here our author
saw a number of women employed in washing webs of
doth in the sea; and takes notice of the dexterous me¬
thod they have of lifting it up in folds, and packing it
on their heads in bundles, without receiving any assist¬
ance. At the foot of this promontory are many curious
.basaltic rocks.
All along the eastern side of Mount ./Etna the soil
is broken, but filled with beautiful varieties of basaltes,
highly worthy of observation. Indeed, according to
our author’s opinion, there is no volcano in Europe so
rich as AEtna in basaltes, nor where so many curious fi¬
gures of it are to be seen.
M. Houel having spent some more time in visiting
the basaltic columns around the foot of the mountain,
set out from Aci to visit the famous chesnut tree for an
hundred horses which we have already mentioned. In
2
j'dreat
quantity
at basaltes
found '.on
Autaa.
If. Houel’s
journey to
the great
dbesnut
.tree.
his way thither he passed through the villages of For-
tezza, Mangamo, St Leonardo, St Matteo, and La
Macchia. The landscapes of each of these places by
itself are extremely beautiful j but the country between
them is a frightful wild desert, presenting to the eye
nothing but extensive plains of black lava, which at a
distance have the appearance of vast quantities of pit-
coal. The roads became rougher as they advanced j
but the adjoining fields assumed a more pleasing aspect.
The reason of this is, that the torrents of lava (by which
the plains are rendered unfit for vegetation for a great
number of years) have rolled rapidly down the more
steep sides of the mountain without destroying the fer¬
tility of the soil.
Travelling through very difficult roads, and often
incommoded with dangerous precipices, our author at
last arrived at the celebrated chesnut tree, which was
the chief object of this journey. He observes, that, Great tin,
all over this side of the mountain, the chesnut trees bers of
thrive very well, and are carefully cultivated by the in-c^esaut
'habitants. They are worked into hoops for casks, and tree5‘
a considerable trade is carried on in this article. The Partieula:
.great one which he came to visit, exceeds the size of account c
other trees so much, that it cannot fail to excite the t*ie8rcilt
-greatest admiration. It has its name from the follow-tl£e’
ing circumstance. Jean of Arragon spent some time in
Sicily on her way from Spain to Naples. While here,
she visited Mount ./Etna, attended by her principal no¬
bility j and happening to be overtaken by a storm,
they took shelter under this tree, whose branches were
sufficiently extensive to cover them all. By others,
however, this story is treated as a mere fable.
According to our author’s account, this chesnut tree
is 160 feet in circumference, which is less than Mr Bry-
done’s account of it, but quite hollow within : which,
however, affects not its verdure 5 for the chesnut tree,
like the willow, depends upon its bark for subsistence,
and by age loses its internal part. As the cavity ofA J10”*8
this enormous mass is very considerable, the people
have built a house in it, where they have an oven for
drying nuts, almonds, and chesnuts, &c. of which they it.
make conserves. They frequently supply themselves
with wood from the tree which encircles their house,
so that it seems likely, in a short time, to go to ruin
through the thoughtless ingratitude of its inhabitants,
to whom it gives protection.
It has been thought that this tree was composed oflsnoteoi
a number of others grown together j but our author is posed ofi
of a different opinion. For he supposes that the bark nuniber'
and outer part of the wood have been rent asunder,
and that by a natural motion the divided parts of the
bark seeking to reunite, or rather to shelter themselves
from the action of the external air, are bent inwards so
as to form circular arcs, which may indeed be taken for
so many different trees, though they appear properly to
belong to the same trunk.
Besides this, thei*e is abundance of other trees inQ^tri
the neighbourhood very remarkable for their size. 0f wstdi
Our traveller was shown a number of young trees ofme*1^08'
the same species, all very beautiful and straight, and
almost as smooth as polished marble. One of these
was 38 feet in circumference, and there was a num¬
ber of others nearly of the same size. Among these
there were seven standing sogether, which have receiv¬
ed the name of the seven brethren* Another is deno¬
minated
A E T [ 241 ] A E T
tea. minated the ship, from the general figure of its top,
* which has some slight resemblance to a ship. Its dia¬
meter is 25 feet, so that the circumference cannot be
less than 75. In these extensive forests, however, there
are chesnut trees of every age and size.
It 1 grot- Our author’s next visit was paid to a snow grotto,
0 scrib* being one of those magazines, where that article, so ne-
<2 cessary in the hot climate of Sicily, is preserved for
p( st of use‘ -^n way thither he visited the forest of pines ;
ii in the which is so much surrounded by rocks and precipices,
n te it. that it is scarcely accessible $ and vast numbers of the
trees are dying of old age. Some of the neighbouring
peasants, however, now and then attempt to carry them
off. Our author saw one of them at this work. It was
drawn by oxen, who were yoked to it by a chain con¬
nected with the beam by an iron cramp. But the ex¬
treme roughness of the road made the tree leap and
bound in such a manner, that the poor creatures were
every moment in danger of having their legs broken, or
being hurried over precipices along with their driver;
accidents which happen not unfrequently, and which
render this occupation less generally practised than
otherwise it would be.
The snow grotto is but lately formed, by the action
of the waters under the beds of lava carrying away
the stratum of pozzolana below them. It is situ¬
ated on a mount named Fmocchio, which, though of
very considerable size, is only a protuberance on the
side of iEtna. It has been repaired in the inside at the
expence of the knights of Malta, who have hired this,
as well as several other caverns in the mountain, for the
purpose of holding snow, which they have still more
occasion for in their island than the inhabitants of Si¬
cily. There are two openings above, at which they
throw in the snow ; and flights of steps have been cut
to these as well as in the internal parts. A consider¬
able extent of ground is levelled and enclosed with high
walls above the grotto $ so that when the wind, which
at this elevation blows with great violence, carries the
snow down from the higher parts of the mountain, it
is stopped and detained by the walls of this enclosure.
It is then thrown into the grotto, where the thickness of
the beds of lava which cover it prevents any impression
the from the summer heat. When the season for exporta-
1 bpre-tion comes on, the snow is put into large bags, and
1 ngr0mPressed *nt0 t*iem as c^ose as possible. Thus it is ren-
1 g ex. dered compact and heavy, and likewise runs less risk of
1 tion. being affected by the heat. It is then carried out upon
men’s shoulders, and conveyed to the shore on mules.
Before it is put into the bags, the lumps of snow are
carefully wrapped up in leaves, which is another pre¬
servative j at the same time that the fresh congelation
of the little which melts, unites the masses so together,
that our author informs us he has seen pieces of the snow
preserved in this manner which looked like the fairest
and most transparent crystal.
mat °ar autl,or’s ne.xt excursion was to Mount Eosso,
, or the Bed Mountain, which is one of the mouths of
iEna, and through which it discharges from time to
time great quantities of lava, sand, ashes, &c. It is the
most celebrated of all the numerous mouths which have
opened on the side of the mountain, though it has be¬
come so noted only for having poured forth the matter
of the great eruption in 1669, and which is the most
remarkable of any recorded in history.
Vol. I. Part I. +
Mhen anew crater (says our author) is formed JEtna.
on Mount ilLtna, it is always in consequence of some ~ — v—~
shock that is powerful enough to break the arches of^ew cra-
its caverns. Doubtless it is inconceivable that there Jers h"'*
should be any agent endowed with such force ; but 0ime<*’
when such a fracture is once made, it is necessarily
very large, and the surface of the ground above cannot
but be broken in several different places at considerable
distances from one another. The matter which is dis¬
charged always issues from the principal opening and
those adjoining to it. None of these mouths, however,
continue open, excepting that which is directly in
the line in which the matter is discharged 5 the lava
soon choking up those which are in a more oblique di¬
rection.”
Our author went down one of these openings with
torches 5 but could not reach the bottom, and was
obliged to return on account of the extreme cold. The
descent was extremely difficult, and became more so in
proportion as he advanced. This crater is of an oval
form, and the opening through which he descended
was in one extremity: but he was tempted to think
that the crater which rises above it had been formed
of matter discharged by another mouth : or perhaps it
might have had a more centrical opening, through
which the stones, sand, &c. which form the crater were
discharged.
Four of the mouths of this mount appear to be
composed of a reddish pozzolana, which has procured
it the name of the Red Mountain ,* but when we ascend
the pyramids, or rather funnels which they form, we
find them composed of different-coloured layers of sand.
Some of these are of a bluish-gray colour, others of a
fine yellow, and some of a kind of green formed by a
mixture of gray and yellow, while others are of red co¬
lour. A great number of small crystals, black schoerls,
and granites are found among them, as well as pieces
of scoria, which had been discharged by the volcano in
the form of a thick and glutinous matter. All these
mouths have internally the form of a funnel, and their
shape is nearly that of a mutilated cone or round py¬
ramid. This is the natural and unavoidable consequence
of the perpendicular fall of the pulverized matter which
the volcano discharges from the orifice at the bottom.
The sides of the craters are not all of one height j the
parts to the east and west being considerably higher
than the intermediate summits, because the currents of
the ashes passed alternately from east to west, and fell
upon these sides in greater quantities than on the others j
which circumstance has given to the volcano the ag-
pearance of having two summits.
M. Houel, having finished his observations on Monte Convent vf
Rosso, returned to the convent of Nicolosi, which isNicol°sj
now only a house for the entertainment of travellers. describ*d’
The Benedictines of Catania, to whom it belono's, visit
this place only when in an ill state of health, as°the pu¬
rity of the air renders it very salutary to the human
constitution. A solitary brother, however, resides here
to take care of the house, and to superintend the cul¬
tivation of the neighbouring plains. Those fathers
once possessed an extensive and very fertile tract of
land in this neighbourhood; but the eruptions of ./Etna
have rendered it totally incapable of cultivation. This
house stands at a very considerable height, being no
less than 2496 feet above the level of the sea. Set-
H h ting
A E T
[ 242 ]
A E T
./Etna,
Beautiful
appearance
of the fo¬
rests of
./Etna.
Grotto of
the Goats
how form¬
ed.
ting out from this place three hours before day, our
traveller directed his course towards the Grotto of the
Goats. In his way thither, he passed over several
plains of lava, some of them ancient and others more
modern: but the roads were extremely rough and
dangerous *, or rather, as our author expresses himself,
there was no track or path meriting the name of a
road. In two hours they reached the Regione Sylvosa,
where an immense forest surrounds the mountain, and
which has undoubtedly been planted by the hand of
nature : for there the ground is so high, so full of
precipices, and so entirely uninhabitable, that no hu¬
man being could ever think of making plantations on
it nor is it to be supposed that the winds could take
up seeds from the plains to sow them on such a lofty
situation.
These majestic forests of ./Etna afford a singular spec¬
tacle, and bear no resemblance to those of other coun¬
tries. Their verdure is more lively, and the trees of
which they consist are of a greater height. These ad¬
vantages they owe to the soil whereon they grow 5 for
the soil produced by volcanoes is particularly favour¬
able to vegetation, and every species of plants grows
here with great luxuriance. In several places, where
we can view their interior parts, the most enchanting
prospects are displayed. The hawthorn trees are of an
immense size. Our author saw several of them of a
regular form, and which he was almost tempted to take
for large orange trees cut artificially into the figures
they represented. The beeches appear like as many
ramified pillars, and the tufted branches of the oak
like close bushes impenetrable to the rays of the sun.
The appearance of the woods in general is exceedingly
picturesque, both by reason of the great number and
variety of the trees, and the inequality of the ground,
which makes them rise like the seats in an amphitheatre,
one row above another 5 disposing them also in groups
and glades, so that their appearance changes to the eye
at every step ; and this variety is augmented by acci¬
dental circumstances, as the situation of young trees,
among others venerable for their antiquity j the effects
of storms, which have often overturned large trees,
while stems shooting up from their roots, like the Ler-
neean hydra, show a number of heads newly sprung to
make up that which was cut off.
About three hours after the departure of our tra¬
vellers from St Nicholas, they reached the Grotto of
the Goats. It is formed by a bed of lava, which ha¬
ving flowed over a pile of sand and pozzolana while in
a fluid state, settled and cooled in that situation ; and
the sand or pozzolana being afterwards carried oft’ by
the filtration of water through the lava, a void space
has been left, which the torrents have gradually en¬
larged to its present size.
This grotto stands about 5054 feet above the level
of the sea, according to the calculations of M. de
Saussure. It affords a retreat for those travellers who
visit the summit of /Etna, who generally refresh them¬
selves by taking a repast and making a fire at the en¬
try, for which there is plenty of dry wood at hand j
while the sand serves for a bed to repose on. Here our
author and his company supped, and about midnight
set off for the summit. They had the advantage of
the moon-light; and our author advises all those who
intend to visit the top of ./Etna, to take such a time for
their journey as may enable them to enjoy this advan- jEttlR;
tage. As thev advanced beyond the Grotto ot the u--v-^
Goats, the trees became gradually thinner. In a short Amount J
time they were so thin, that they might readily be
counted 5 and, proceeding still farther, only a very lew ^£t,na>
were seen scattered here and there, whose beauty and
size were diminished seemingly in proportion to their
numbers. A few clumps of trees and some tufts of
odoriferous herbs were now only to be seen j and in a
little time these also became thinner, assuming a wi¬
thered or stunted appearance. There they are nothing
but the languishing remains of an abortive vegetation j
and a few paces further even this disappeared, and the
eye was presented only with barren sand.
Having now got above the region of the trees, they Snowy a i
entered the third, which our author denominates the re* b^e^r<|
gion of snow and sterility. rl he wind became more
brisk and keen as they advanced, so that they could
scarce keep their hats upon their heads } and our au¬
thor lost his, though tied on with a handkerchief.
Here they were frequently obliged to cross consider¬
able streams of water formed by the melting of the
snow. In general the surface was sufficiently hard to
bear them ; but our author’s mule once sunk up to her
belly, and was not extricated without great difficulty.
Having at last overcome all difficulties, they arrived piain or|
at the large plain on the summit ot ./Etna, and in the the sum
midst of which is the crater of the volcano. It is en-ofiEtni
tirely composed of lava, cinders, ice, and snow 5 and
has been styled, ironically as our author thinks, Monte
Frumente. Here the wind continued to blow with WimG
excessive violence 5 and our author informs us, that in^;0]eat
order to have any notion of its keenness, we must be jlere>
accustomed to feel it on some very elevated station, as
it is impossible to judge from what we feel at inferior
altitudes. They took shelter behind a lump of lava,
the only one which appeared in the whole plain, and,
which our author says, would seem designed expressly
for the shelter of travellers. Here they lay, wrapped
up in their cloaks, for an hour z but as soon as it was
day, so that they could distinguish the place where the
sun was to rise, they got up and advanced towards
the ruins of the building known by the name of the
Philosopher'1 s Power. The wind still blew so violently,
that after an effort of four minutes they fell down ex¬
hausted: but the extreme cold obliging them again to
get up, they made a second attempt j and after several
intermissions of this kind, at last accomplished their
design. They were surprised, however, to find nothing
but the corner of a wall not more than two feet high,
consisting of two rows of unpolished stones j great part
of it. having been probably buried by the sand and
other matters discharged by the mountain. Here, be¬
ing sheltered from the wind, and the day advancing,
they began to enjoy the glorious prospect which every
moment became more extensive. At the rising of the
sun, the horizon was serene, without a single cloud.
“ The coast of Calabria (says our author) was as yet E*ter‘ *
undistinguishable from the adjoining sea j but in a shortProsl)
time a fiery radiance began to appear from behind the
Italian hills, which bounded the eastern part of the pro¬
spect. The fleecy clouds, which generally appear early
in the morning, were tinged with purple j the atmosphere
became strongly illuminated, and, reflecting the rays of
the rising sun, appeared filled with a bright effulgence
A E T
I£,tna. of flame. The immense elevation of the summit of iEt-
^   na made it catch the first rays of the sun’s light, whose
vast splendour, while it dazzled the eyes, diffused a most
cherishing and enlivening heat, reviving the spirits,
and diffusing a pleasant sensation throughout the soul.
But though the heavens were thus enlightened, the
sea still retained its dark azure, and the fields and fo¬
rests did not yet reflect the rays of the sun. The gra¬
dual rising of this luminary, however, soon diffused
his light over the hills which lie below the peak of /Et¬
na. This last stood like an island in the midst of the
ocean, with luminous points every moment multiplying
around, and spreading over a wider extent with the
greatest rapidity. It was as if the universe had been
observed suddenly springing from the night of non¬
existence. The tall forests, the lofty trees and exten¬
sive plains of iEtna, now presented themselves to view.
Its base, the vast tracts of level ground which lie adja¬
cent, the cities of Sicily, its parched shores, with the
dashing waves and vast expanse of the ocean, gradual¬
ly presented themselves, while some fleeting vapours,
which moved swiftly before the wind, sometimes, veiled
part of this vast and magnificent prospect.” In a short
time every thing was displayed so distinctly, that they
could plainly recognize all those places with which they
were before acquainted. On the south were seen the
hills of Camerata and Trapani $ on the north, the
mounts Pelegrino and Thermini, with the celebrated
Enna, once crowned with the temples of Ceres and
Proserpine. Among these mountains were seen a great
many rivers running down, and appearing like as many
lines of glittering silver winding through a variety of
rich and fertile fields, washing the walls of 28 cities,
while their banks were otherwise filled with villages,
hamlets, &c. rising among the ruins of the most illu¬
strious republics of antiquity. On the south and north
were observed the rivers which bound by their course
' the vast base of Mount /Etna, and afford a delightful
prospect to the eye ; while at a much greater distance
were seen the islands of Lipari, Alicudi, Felicocide,
Parinacia, and Stromboli.
Having enjoyed for some time the beauty of this
magnificent prospect, our author set about making
a draught of the place from which the view was taken ;
and at length accomplished it, notwithstanding the
great impediments he met with from the wind. A-
mong the objects which he delineated on this occasion,
niloio Philosopher’s Tower was one. It seems, he says,
iei’sTow-llot to 1)6 very ancient ? neither the materials of which
deicri. consists, nor the mode of architecture, bearing any
'i resemblance to those of the Greeks and Romans. The
surrounding plain seems to consist entirely of a black
sand intermixed with pieces of scoria, which have been
formerly thrown out by the volcano. Beyond that
plain, which rises gently, appears a cone, the summit
of which is the volcanic crater. ’When viewed from
et^eriptian the south side, on which they stood, this crater seems
»ter.£reat to consist °f a number of small hills. Into these it was
broken by the emission of the boiling torrent in the
year 1755. When discharged from the crater, these
waters spread towards the right, and at the distance
of a mile eastward fell in a cascade from a prodigious
height.
The violence of the wind beginning now to abate a
[ 1
A E T
little, the travellers set out for the very summit, in or- iEtua,
der to take a view of the great crater ; in which journey t—-■ y—^
(our author says) it would be difficult to make people,
who have never engaged in such enterprises, compre¬
hend all the obstacles they had to encounter. This
cone (the little mountain mentioned by Sir William
Hamilton) is composed of ashes, sand, and pozzolana,
thrown up at different times by the volcano. The ma¬
terials are so loose, that the adventurous traveller sinks
about mid-leg at every step, and is in constant terror
of being swallowed up. At last, when the summit is
reached, the sulphureous exhalations, which are con¬
tinually emitted from the pores of the mountain, threat¬
en suffocation, and irritate the fauces and lungs in such
a manner as to produce a very troublesome and inces¬
sant cough. The looseness of the soil, which gives
way under the feet, obliges the traveller, everv now
and then, to throw himself flat on his belly, that so he
may be in less danger of sinking. In this posture our
author viewed the wide unfathomable gulf in the
middle of the crater 5 but could discover nothing ex¬
cept a cloud of smoke, which issued from a number of
small apertures scattered all around, and accompanied
with a kind of noise. Another and more dreadful Horrid
sound, however, issues from the bowels of the volcano,noises lssae
and which, according to our author, “ strikes the heart
with terror, so that all the strength of reason is neces- gu™”5
sary to prevent the observer from flying with preci¬
pitation from such a dreadful place.” Several travel¬
lers who had visited this cone before him, were so ter¬
rified by these dreadful sounds, that they fled with the
the utmost haste till they arrived at the foot of the
mountain.
Our author compares these sounds to a discharge of
cannon in the wide abyss 5 the noise of which is re¬
bellowed throughout all the caverns, and produces a
sound perhaps the most alarming that can be imagined ;
and during the short space in which he listened, several
of these discharges were heard to follow one another al¬
most uninterruptedly.
This dreadful noise, our author, with very great pro¬
bability, supposes to be occasioned by the explosions of
the internal fire, or, as he calls it, the focus of the
volcano : which, striking against the sides of these im¬
mense caverns, the sounds produced are re-echoed
through their cavities, and probably multiplied in an
extraordinary manner j so that what would be only a
slight explosion in the open air, occasions a sound more
tremendous than the loudest thunder. To such as are
convinced of this, and have sufficient courage to resist
the first impressions which these sounds must unavoid¬
ably occasion, they will in a short time not only appear
exceedingly sublime,but by theirvariety, even somewhat
agreeable. “They enable us (says our author) to form
some conception of the space through which they must
pass before they reach the ear, and of the vast extent
and width of the hollows of the mountain.”
Having for some time contemplated this awful spec-imp0S,;bife
tacle, our author wished to measure the crater by walk- to walk
ing round it, but found this impossible. On the north round the
side the surface is hard and smooth, the ashes havingc^ate^•
been so far dissolved by the moisture deposited by the
smoke as to cement into one uniform mass. This is
sometimes dissolved even into a fluid state, in such %
Hh 2 maimer
A E T [ 244 ]
A E T
JEtna. manner as to run down the sides of the cone j so that,
< p'^—— > several attempts, he was at last obliged to aban¬
don his design. _
Fio-ure of Fig. 2. exhibits a view of the crater ot Abtna taken
Sfce crater. 0n the brink of the east side. The fore ground (aa) of
the figure is one division of the crater. Beyond it are
two eminences b and c, higher than that on which some
human figures are represented. All the three form a
triangle nearly equilateral j but, when viewed from any
considerable distance, only two of them can be seen ;
for which reason the Sicilians have termed the mountain
bicorne, or double-horned.
The smoke, as represented in the figure, issues from
all quarters, either from chinks or holes scattered over
the whole crater. But the situation of the principal
mouth is in the midst of the three eminences. Its
diameter, when our author visited this mountain, was
only about 60 feet, and so filled with smoke, that no¬
thing remarkable could be discovered. From the height
d, the rock situated on the left side of the print, and
on which the human figures are represented, all the way
to the rock e on the right, the distance is no more than
pQQ feet. Our author obsei'ved, that the cone is not
exactly in the middle of the plain, but is situated more
towards the north than the south, lie did not attempt
to cross the central valley /^ on account of the looseness
of the ground, and that there was no object apparently
worthy of the risk he must run in so doing. At the
nearest view he took, it was only observed that there
was snow lying in several parts of it, though the heat
which otherwise prevailed seemed to be very intense.
The smoke which issues from the crater of jlltna is
generally carried in a direction from south to north ;
and, as it brings along with it a considerable quantity
of water, the latter, condensed by the cold winds,
runs down the side of the mountain 111 plentiful streams,
and often leaves pretty permanent marks of its course,
^roption ofln this manner he accounts for the great eruption of
water in water in 1755* which he supposes to have been oi.ca-
1755 ac- sioned only by an unusual quantity of water falling into
counted ^ |jurn;ng focus 0f the mountain, there rarefied into
* U steam, and afterwards condensed by the coldness of the
atmosphere.
South wind Like other travellers to Mount ^Etna, this gentleman
^eaerally found the wind blowing from the south, and he is of
prevalent opinion, that a south wind blows here more frequently
on the top tj)an any otjierj as jie did not observe any channels cut
by the water on any other side than the north. He had
several opportunities of making this observation, having
frequently visited the top of ./Etna, and always paid at¬
tention to the crater. The sand on the east and west
sides was always loose, while that on the north was
compacted into a solid body. The three summits were
of a later date than the rest of the crater, having been
probably thrown up by some eruption which had burst
it asunder. The black spots on the fore ground repre¬
sent a number of hillocks about the size of mole-hills,
from which a sulphureous vapour constantly issues, and
by which the adjacent ground is tinged of an ochrey
colour. This vapour issues from the crevices with a
kind of hollow whistling noise j which, with the volca¬
nic thunder, smoke, and noxious smell, render it very
disagreeable te stay here even for a few moments.
The smoke is represented in the figure precisely as it
appeared on the day that he ascended, which was very
warm. But it does not always rise in this manner; for JEtn*.
when the cold is very intense, it collects into a body,—y—
and thickens around the edge of the crater : on which
occasion it is condensed into water, which diffuses itself
around the edge of the crater, and mixing with the
ashes converts them into a kind of clay. The coldIntense
on the top of this mountain is so intense, that travel-^Pl¬
iers very often find their clothes insufficient to protect a soutll y
them ; and it is remarkable that such intense cold is al-wiud.
ways produced by a south wind. The day that our au¬
thor took his draught, the wind blew faintly from the
north.
The base of Mount iEtna, according to M. Houel’s Accotmt
observations, consists of alternate layers of lava and ma-tJie urat
rine substances, which have been deposited successively^®^
one upon another. These alternate layers extend toj^
an unknown depth. They must needs go as far down
as the level of the stratum of lava which was discharged
by the volcano at its first origin. The last deposited
by the sea is a range of calcareous mountains of a con¬
siderable height, and which are placed on a basis of
lava. Beneath that layer of lava is another of sea
pebbles, which are well known to be rounded by their
attrition against one another by the motion of the
waves. This layer is of a considerable depth, and lies
upon a yellowish rock consisting of a species of indura¬
ted sand. The river Simeto flows over this rock,
which it has cut away considerably. That part which
is at present the bed of the river is much higher than
the base of iEtna that is on a level with the sea ; and
not the least thing occurs to suggest an idea of what
has been the primary base of the volcano. The ma¬
rine substances, already taken notice of, lie nearly in
a horizontal direction, more or less so according to the
nature of the surface on which they have been depo-
sited.
./Etna abounds very much with springs, fountains,Qreat,(>
and even rivers of considerable magnitude. Our au-berof
thor has computed, that if all the water flowing down springs
the sides of this mountain were collected, it would fill
the channel of a river 36 feet broad and 6 in depth. * j
Many of the springs afford fine salt; some are very
pure, and others are impregnated with noxious sub¬
stances j while others are remarkable for their use in
dyeing particular colours.
“ It is worthy of notice (says our author), thatwkew
streams of water, some of them more copious, others such a ;e
more scanty, are seen to issue at all different degrees j;
height, from the base to the summit of the mountain. ^aed
Even in summer, when very little rain falls lor three
or four months, or when perhaps for that space there is
no rain at all, and for three of which, at least, there is
not an ounce of snow melted ; even then a great num¬
ber of rivulets continue to flow down the sides of ^Et-
na j and at the same time a number of streams, exter¬
nal and subterraneous, each of them several feet wide,
are, according to the accounts of the country people,
plentifully supplied with water.
“ As the trifling quantity of snow which is melt¬
ed. here even in the midst of summer, and the still
smaller quantity deposited by the clouds, would be
totally insufficient to supply those streams, and must
be all absorbed by the earth for the support of vege¬
tation, those streams must proceed from some other
cause,, whose effects are more copious and perma¬
nent-
Illllilil
Pithiishad bu A- Conjrttibl& & C?PdmrJ$20.
A E T [ 245 ] A E T
vEtna. nent. This cause Is the evaporation of those aqueous
■—«/—'particles which arise from the constant ebullition at the
reduced bottom of the volcanic focus. These issuing out at the
IrnaUva- Kreat crater5 a,)tl at innumerable chinks in the sides of
(ration of the mountain, are soon condensed by the cold of that
ie raoun- elevated region of the atmosphere, and, percolating
in. through the earth, give birth to those numerous streams
in question.
“ A volcano, according to my ideas, cannot subsist
without water j nor can water occupy a place in any
volcanic focus without being changed into vapour.
But before that water can make its appearance, ex*
cept in the form of smoke, it must have filled the
whole volcanic cavern, and must have been forcibly
pressed by the action of the fire against its sides : it
must next have condensed, and assumed the form of
water; in which state it must have penetrated through
the inclined layers of sand and pozzolano which in¬
tervene betwixt the different strata of lava ; for these
strata lie one above another, and are full of chinks,
in such a manner as to present to the eye an appear¬
ance pretty much resembling that of the inside of a
tiled roof.”
ruptions It has been a question, Whether the eruptions of
?fre ^ount A^tna were more frequent in ancient than in
lent an- motfern times ? At first it seems impossible to give a
ently than precise answer to such a question; but when we consi-
m. der, that the matter in the volcanic focus was then
greater in quantity than at present, in proportion to the
space which it occupied ; that the cavities were then
sooner filled with vapour ; and that the centre of the
focus was then less remote, we will not hesitate to pro¬
nounce, that in earlier times the eruptions were more
frequent as well as more copious.
^1- The first symptom of an approaching eruption is an
gerupi *ncrease °f the smoke in fair weather: after some time,
m, a Puft °f black smoke is frequently seen to shoot up in
the midst of the white, to a considerable height. These
puffs are attended with considerable explosions: for
while Vesuvius was in this state, Sir William Hamil¬
ton went up to its top, which was covered with snow :
and perceiving a little hillock of sulphur, about six
feet high, which had been lately thrown up, and burnt
with a blue flame on the top, he was examining this
phenomenon, when suddenly a violent report was heard,
a column of black smoke shot up with violence, and
was followed by a reddish flame. Immediately a shower
of stones fell ; upon which he .bought proper to retire.
Phenomena of this kind, in all probability, precede the
eruptions of ./Etna in a much greater degree.—The
smoke at length appears wholly black in the day-time,
and in the night has the appearance of flame ; showers
of ashes are sent forth, earthquakes are produced, the
mountain discharges volleys of red-hot stones-to a great
height in the air. The force by which these stones
are projected, as well as their magnitude, stems to be
in proportion to the bulk of the mountain. Signior
Recupero assured Mr Brydone, that he had seen im¬
mensely large ones thrown perpendicularly upwards to
the height of 7000 feet, as he calculated from the time
they took to arrive at the earth after beginning to de¬
scend from their greatest elevation. The largest stone,
or rather rock, that was ever known to be emitted bv
Vesuvius, was 12 feet long and 45 in circumference.
This was thrown a quarter of a mile ; but much larger .
ones have been thrown out by Mount ./Etna, almost in
the proportion in which the latter exceeds Vesuvius in ■- - '
bulk. Along with these terrible symptoms, the smoke
that issues from the crater is sometimes in a highly
electrified state. In this case, the small ashes which
are continually emitted from the crater, are attracted
by the smoke, and rise with it to a great height,
forming a vast, black, and to appearance dense, column ;
fiom this column continual flashes of forked or zig-zag
lightning issue, sometimes attended with thunder, andThunde*
sometimes not, but equally powerful with ordinaryaad light¬
lightning. This phenomenon was observed by SirninSfrom
William Hamilton in the smoke of Vesuvius, and hasthe Sm°ke’
also been taken notice of in that of g£tna ; and where
this electrified smoke hath spread over a tract of land,
much mischief hath been done by the lightning pro¬
ceeding from it.
M hen these dreadful appearances have continued
sometimes four or five months, the lava begins to make
its appearance. This is a stream of melted mineral
matters, which in Vesuvius commonly boils over the
top, but very seldom does so in g£tna ; owing to the
gieat weight of the lava, which long before it can be
raised to the vast height of Mount ./Etna, bursts out
through some weak place in its side. Upon the appear¬
ance of the lava, the violent eruptions of the mountain
generally, though not always, cease; for if this burn¬
ing matter gets not sufficient vent, the commotions in¬
crease to a prodigious degree.—In the night-time the
lava appears like a stream of fire, accompanied with
flame ; but in the day-time it has no such appearance :
its progress is marked hy a white smoke, which by the
reflection of the red-hot matter in the night assumes the
appearance of flame.
We shall close this article with an enumeration of all
the different eruptions from Mount JEtna which are
found upon record.
1. The first mentioned in history, is that of which List of
Diodorus Siculus speaks, but without fixing the period
at which it happened. That eruption, says he, obliged fro1??the
the Sicani, who then inhabited Sicily, to forsake the^d ^
eastern, and retire to the southern part of the island.
A long time after that, the Sicilians, a people of Italy,
migrated into Sicily, and took up their abode in that
part of the island which had been left desert by the Si¬
cani.
2. The second eruption known to have issued from
this volcano, is the first of the three mentioned by
Thucydides; of none of which he fixes the date,
mentioning only in general, that from the arrival of
the first Greek colonies that settled in Sicily (which
was in the nth Olympiad, and corresponds to the
734th year before the Christian era, to the 88th
Olympiad, or the year 425 before Christ, ./Etna at
three different times discharged torrents of fire. This
second eruption happened, according to Eusebius, in the
days of Phalaris, in the 565th year before the Christian,
era. The assertion of Eusebius is confirmed by a let¬
ter from that tyrant to the citizens of Catania, and the
answer of the Catanians (if, after Bentley’s Disserta¬
tions against their authenticity, any credit be due to the
Epistles of Phalaris). But Diodorus gives both these
pieces.
3. The third, which is the second of the three men¬
tioned by Thucydides, happened in the 65th Olym¬
piad,;,.
A E T [ 246 ] A E T
iEtua. piad, in the 477th year before the Christian era, when
■*—v*®"—^ Xantippus was archon at Athens. It was in this same
year the Athenians gained their boasted victory over
Xerxes’s general Mardonius near Platsea. Both the
eruption of the volcano and the victory of the Athe¬
nians are commemorated in an ancient incription on
a marble table which still remains. An ancient me¬
dal exhibits a representation of an astonishing deed to
which that eruption gave occasion. Two heroic youths
boldly ventured into the midst of the flames to save
their parents: their names, which well deserved to
be transmitted to future ages, were Amphinomus and
Anapius. The citizens of Catania rewarded so noble
a deed with a temple and divine honours. Seneca,
Silius Italicus, Valerius Maximus, and other ancient
authors, mention the heroism of the youths with just
applause.
4. The fourth eruption, the third and last of those
mentioned by Thucydides, broke out in the 88th O-
lympiad, in the 425th year before the Christian era.
It laid waste the territory of Catania.
5. The fifth is mentioned by Julius Obsequens and
Orosius, who date it in the consulship of Sergius Ful-
vius Flaccus and Quintus Calpurnius Piso, nearly 133
years before the Christian era. It wras considerable^
but no peculiar facts are related concerning it.
6. In the consulship of Lucius.^Funilius Lepidus and
Lucius Aurelius Orestes, in the 125th year before the
Christian era, Sicily suft'ered by a violent earthquake.
Such a deluge of fire streamed from ./Etna as to render
the adjoining sea into which it poured absolutely hot.
Orosius says, that a prodigious quantity of fishes were
destroyed by it. Julius Obsequens relates, that the
inhabitants of the isles of Lipari ate such a number of
those fishes, as to suffer, in consequence of it, by a dis¬
temper which proved very generally mortal.
hj. Four years after the last mentioned, the city of
Catania was desolated by another eruption, not less
violent. Orosius relates, that the roofs of the houses
were broken down by the burning ashes which fell
upon them. It was so dreadfully ravaged, that the
Homans found it necessary to grant the inhabitants an
exemption from all taxes for the space of ten years, to
enable them to repair it.
8. A short time before the death of Caesar, in the
43d year before Jesus Christ, there was an eruption
from Mount. ./Etna. Livy mentions it. It was not
distinguished by any thing extraordinary. It was af¬
terwards considered as an omen of the death of Caesar.
9. Suetonius, in the life of Caligula, mentions an
eruption from Mount ./Etna which happened in the 40th
year after the Christian era. The emperor fled on the
very night on which it happened, from Messina, where
be at that time happened to be.
10. Carrera relates, that in the year 253, there was
an eruption from Mount ./Etna.
11. He speaks of another in the year 420 j which
is also mentioned by Photius.
12. In the reign of Charlemagne, in the year 812,
there wras an eruption from ./Etna. Geoffroy of Viter¬
bo mentions it in his Chronicle.
13. In the year 1269, on the 4th February, about
day-break, there was an earthquake in Sicily, which
was felt as far as Reggio, on the opposite side of the
strait, Catania was reduced by it to ruins 5 and in
2 ’
that city more than 15,000 souls perished. The hi- j£tlt
shop, with 44 monks of the order of St Benedict, w'ere —y-
buried under the ruins of the roof of the church of St
Agatha. Many castles in the territories of Catania
and Syracuse were overturned \ new rivers burst forth,
and ancient rivers disappeared. The ridge of the
mountain was observed to sink in on the side next
Taormino. The spring of Arethusa, so famous for the
purity and sweetness of its waters, then became muddy
and brackish. The fountain of Ajo, which rises from
the village of Saraceni, ceased to flow for two hours 5
at the end of which the water gushed out more copi¬
ously than before. Its waters assumed a blood colour,
and retained it for about an hour. At Messina, the
sea, without any considerable agitation, retired a good
way within its ordinary limits 5 but soon after re¬
turning, it rose beyond them, advanced to the walls of
the city, and entered the streets through the gates.
A number of people who had fled to the shore for
safety were swallowed up by the waves. Ludovico
Aurelio relates, that the vines, corn, and trees of all
sorts, were burnt up, and the fields covered over with
such a quantity of stones as rendered them unfit for cul¬
tivation.
14. Twelve years after this, in the year 1281, a
•dreadful eruption issued from ./Etna on the east side.
Streams of fire ran down the declivity of the moun¬
tain, and encircled the church of St Stephen, but with¬
out burning it.
Nicholas Speciale, who relates, though he did not see,
this event, was witness to another conflagration on
./Etna 48 years after this, in the year 1329, on the 23d
of June, of which he has given a description.
15. On that day, says he, about the hour of ves¬
pers, ./Etna was strongly convulsed, and uttered dread¬
ful noises ; not only the inhabitants of the mountain,
but all Sicily, were struck with consternation and
alarm. On a sudden, a terrible blaze of fire issued
from the southern summit, and spread over the rocks
of Mazzara, which are always covered with snow.
Together with the fire, there appeared a great deal of
smoke. After sunset, the flames and the stones that
issued out with them were seen to touch the clouds.
The fire making way for itself with the most furious
impetuosity, burnt up or reduced to ruins all those
structures which the piety of former times had conse¬
crated to the Deity. The earth yawning, swallowed
up a great many springs and rivulets. Many of the
rocks on the shore of Mascali were shaken and dashed
into the sea. A succession of these calamities conti¬
nued till the 15th of July, when the bowels of ./Etna
were again heard to rebellow. The conflagration of
Mazzara still w'ent on unextinguished. The earth
opened near the church of St John, called II Papari-
necca ; on the south side fire issued from the gap with
great violence : to add to the horrors of the day, the
sun was obscured from morning to evening with clouds
of smoke and ashes, as entirely as in an eclipse. Ni¬
colas Speciale went towards the new-opened xrater, to
observe the fire and the burning stones which were
issuing from the volcano. The earth rebellowed and
tottered under his feet 5 and he saw red-hot stones issue
four times successively in a very short space from the
crater, with a thundering noise, the like of which, he
says, he had never before heard.
u
A E T
,£tr(a.
In a few days after this, all the adjacent fields were
burnt up by a shower ot fire and sulphureous ashes ;
and both birds and quadrupeds being thus left desti¬
tute ot food, died in great numbers. A great quanti-
tity of fishes likewise died in the rivers and the conti¬
guous parts of the sea. “ I cannot think (says he) that
either Babylon or Sodom was destroyed with such aw¬
ful severity.”—The north winds, which blew at the
time, carried the ashes as far as Malta. Many persons
of both sexes died of terror.
16. Scarce had four years elapsed after this terrible
event, when iEtna made a new explosion, and dis¬
charged volleys ot stones, causing the neighbouring
fields to tremble. This happened in the year 1333.
17. Forty-eight years after this, on the 25th of
August 1381, an eruption from iEtna spread its rava¬
ges over the confines of the territory of Catania, and
burnt up the olive yards in the neighbourhood of that
city.
18. In the year 1444, 63 years after the last erup¬
tion, a torrent of lava issued from JEtna and ran to¬
wards Catania. The mountain shook ; and the shocks
were so violent, that several huge masses of rock were
broken from its summit, and hurled into the abyss
with a tremendous noise.
19. Alter this iEtna was scarce at rest for 18 months
or two years. On Sunday the 25th of September 1446,
about an hour after sunset, an eruption issued from the
place called La Pietra di Ma%arra. This eruption
was soon over.
20. In the following year, 1447, on the 21st of
September, there was another, with a good deal of
fire 5 but this eruption was likewise of short dura¬
tion.
21. -/Etna now ceased to emit fire, anti that for a
considerable time. The neighbouring inhabitants not
only ascended to the summit of the mountain, but even,
if we may credit accounts, went down into the fiery
gulf, and believed the volcanic matter to be now ex¬
hausted: But on the 25th of April 1536, near a cen¬
tury from the slight eruption in 1447, a strong wind
arose from the west, and a thick cloud, reddish in the
middle, appeared over the summit of the mountain.
At the very same instant a large body of fire issued
from the abyss, and fell with the noise and rapidity of
a torrent along the eastern side of the mountain, break¬
ing down the rocks, and destroying the flocks and eve¬
ry other animal that was exposed to its fury. From
the same crater, on the summit of the mountain, there
issued at the same time a stream of fire more terrible
than the other, and held its course towards the west.
It ran over Bronte, Adrans, and Castelli. It consist¬
ed entirely of sulphur and bitumen. On the same day
the church of St Leon, which stood in a wood, was
first demolished by the shocks of the earthquake, and
its ruins after that consumed by the fire. Many
chasms were opened in the sides of the mountain; and
from those issued fire and burning stones, which darted
up into the air with a noise like that produced by a
smart discharge of artillery. Francis Negro de Piaz¬
za, a celebrated physician, who lived at Lentini, wish¬
ing to have a nearer view of the eruptions, and to make
some observations which he thought might be of con¬
sequence, was carried off and burnt to ashes by a volley
[ 247 .1
A E T
This conflagration of iEtna
of the burning stones,
lasted some weeks.
22. In less than a year, on the 17th of April 1537,
the river Simeto swelled so amazingly as to overflow
the adjacent plains, and carry off the country people
and their cattle and other animals. At the same time,
the country around Paterno, the neighbouring castles,
and more than 500 houses, were destroyed by the ra¬
vages of the river ; and most of the wood was torn
up by the roots by violent blasts of wind. These ra¬
vages of the elements were followed by vEtna, which
on the nth ot the following month was rent in se-
veial places, disclosing fiery gulfs, and pouring out a
deluge of fire in more terrible torrents than those of
the preceding year. They directed their course to¬
wards the monastery of St Nicholas d’Arena ; destroy¬
ed the gardens and vineyards ; and proceeding on¬
wards towards Nicolosi, burnt Montpellieri and Fal-
lica, and destroyed the vineyards and most of the in¬
habitants. When the conflagration ceased, the sum¬
mit of the mountain sunk inward with such a noise,
that all the people in the island believed the last day
arrived, and prepared for their end by extreme unc¬
tion. These dreadful disturbances continued through
the whole year, more especially in the months of Ju¬
ly and August, during which all Sicily was in mourn¬
ing. The smoke, the noise, and the shocks of the
earthquake, affected the whole island; and if Filotes
may be believed, who relates this event, many of the
Sicilians were struck deaf by the noise. Many struc¬
tures were demolished ; and among others the castle of
Corleone, though more than 25 leagues distant from
the volcano.
23. During the succeeding 30 years there was no
disturbance of this nature. At the end of that space,
Sicily was alarmed by a new eruption from the moun¬
tain. ./Etna discharged new streams of fire, and cover¬
ed the adjacent country with volcanic ashes, which en¬
tirely ruined the hopes of the husbandman.
24. In the year I379> ^Etna renewed its ravages ;
but no particular account of the damage which it did
upon this occasion has been transmitted to us.
25. Twenty-five years had elapsed, when AEtna, in
the month of June 1603, flamed with new fury. Peter
Carrera affirms that it continued to emit flames for the
space of 33 years, till 1636, without interruption, but
not always with the same violence. In 160*7, the
streams of lava which flowed from it destroyed the
woods and vineyards on the west side of the mountain.
In 1609, they turned their course towards Aderno, and
destroyed a part of the forest del Pino, and a part of
the wood called la Sciambnta, with many vineyards in
the district Costerna. These torrents of lava continued
to flow for three months. In the year 1614, a new
effort of the subterraneous fire opened another crater,
from which fire was discharged on Randazzo, in the
district called il Piro. The fire continued to flame for
10 or 12 years longer.
26. Hie same Peter Carrera relates, that a dreadful
conflagration happened in the year 1664, of which he
himself was witness. It happened on the 13th of De¬
cember, and lasted without interruption, but with dif¬
ferent degrees of violence, till the end of May 1678.
But in 1669 the inhabitants of Nicolosi were obliged
t®
A'tna.
A E T [ 248 ] ' A E T
iEtna. to forsake their houses, which tumbled down soon after
—they left them. The crater on the summit of i£tna
had not at this time a threatening aspect, and every
thing there continued quiet till the 25th of March J
but on the 8th of that month, an hour before night,
the air was observed to become dark over the village
la Pedara and all that neighbourhood $ and the inha¬
bitants of that country thought that an almost total
eclipse was taking place. Soon after sunset, frequent
shocks of earthquakes began to be felt; these were at
first weak, but continued till day-break to become
more and more terrible. Nicolosi was more affected
than any other tract of country on that side of iEtna }
about noon every house was thrown to the ground 5
and the inhabitants fled in consternation, invoking the
protection of heaven. On the 10th of March a chasm
several miles in length, and five or six feet wide, open¬
ed in the side of the mountain ; from which about two
hours before day, there arose a bright light, and a very
strong sulphureous exhalation was diffused through the
atmosphere.
About 11 in the forenoon of the same day, after
dreadful shocks of earthquake, a crater was opened in
the hill called des Noisettes, from which there issued
huge volumes of smoke, not accompanied with fire,
ashes, or stones, but with loud and frequent claps of
thunder, displaying all the different phenomena with
which thunder is at different times attended. And
what was very remarkable, the chasm was formed on
the south side, between the top and the bottom of the
mountain. On the same day another chasm was form¬
ed two miles lower, from which issued a great deal of
smoke, accompanied with a dreadful noise and earth¬
quake. Towards the evening of the same day, four
other chasms were opened towards the south, in the
same direction, accompanied during their formation
with the same phenomena, and extending all the way
to the hill called la Pusara.
About twelve paces beyond that, another of the same
kind was formed. On the succeeding night, a black
smoke, involving a quantity of stones, issued from this
last chasm ; it discharged at the same time flakes of a
dark earth-coloured spongy matter, which became hard
after they fell. There issued from the same gulf a
stream of lava, which held its course into a lake called
la Hardia, six miles from Montpellieri, and on its way
thither destroyed many dwelling houses and other build¬
ings in the neighbouring villages.
On the next day, March 12th, this stream of fire
directed its course towards the tract of country called
Malpasso, which is inhabited by 800 people: in the
space of 20 hours it was entirely depopulated and laid
waste. The lava then took a new direction, in which
it destroyed some other villages.
The mount of Montpellieri was next destroyed with
all the inhabitants upon it.
On the 23d of the same month, the stream of fire
was in some places two miles broad. It now attacked
the large village of Mazzalucia j and on the same day
a vast gulf was formed, from which were discharged
sand or ashes, which produced a hill with two summits,
two miles in circumference, and 150 paces high. It
was observed to consist of yellow, white, black, gray,
fed, and green stones.
The new mount of Nicolosi continued to emit ashes
3
for the space of three months 5 and the quantity dis- _£til
charged was so great as to cover all the adjoining tracty
of country for the space of 15 miles; some of these
ashes were conveyed by the winds as far as Messina and
Calabria ; and a north wind arising, covered all the
southern country about Agosta, Lentini, and even be¬
yond that, in the same manner.
While at that height on Nicolosi so many extraor¬
dinary appearances were passing, the highest crater
on the summit of .ZEtna, still preserved its usual tran¬
quillity.
On the 25th of March, about one in the morning,
the whole mountain, even to the most elevated peak,
was agitated by a most violent earthquake. The high¬
est crater of jZEtna, which was one of the loftiest parts
of the mountain, then sunk into the volcanic focus ;
and in the place which it had occupied, there now ap¬
peared nothing but a wide gulf more than a mile in ex¬
tent, from which there issued enormous masses of smoke,
ashes, and stones. At that period, according to the
historian of this event, the famous block of lava on
Mount Frumento was discharged from the volcanic
focus.
In a short time after, the torrent of fire, which still
continued to flow, directed its course towards Catania
with redoubled noise, and accompanied with a much
greater quantity of ashes and burning stones than be¬
fore. For several months many most alarming shocks
of earthquakes were felt: and the city was threatened
with destruction by the torrent of fire. In vain they
attempted to turn or divert its course ; the lava rose
over the walls, and entered by an angle near the Be¬
nedictine convent on the nth of June following. This
awful event is related by Francis Monaco, Charles
Mancius, Vincent Auria, and Thomas Thedeschi.
A description of the lava issuing from Mount JEtna
in 1669 was sent to the court of England by Lord
Winchelsea, who at that time happened to be at Ca¬
tania in his way home from an embassy at Constanti¬
nople. Sir W. Hamilton gives the following ex¬
tract of it. “ When it was night, I went upon two
towers in divers places ; and I could plainly see, at
ten miles distance, as we judged, the fire begin to run
from the mountain in a direct line, the flame to ascend
as high and as big as one of the greatest steeples in
your Majesty’s kingdoms, and to throw up great stones
into the air; I could discern the river of fire to de¬
scend the mountain, of a terrible fiery or red colour,
and stones of a paler red to swim thereon, and to be
some as big as an ordinary table. We could see this
fire to move in several other places, and all the coun¬
try covered with fire, ascending with great flames in
many places, smoking like a violent furnace of iron
melted, making a noise with the great pieces that fell,
especially those that fell into the sea. A cavalier of
Malta, who lives there, and attended me, told me,
that the river was as liquid, where it issues out of the
mountain, as water, and came out like a torrent with
great violence, and is five or six fathom deep, and as
broad, and that no stones sink therein.”
The account given in the Philosophical Transactions
is to the same purpose. We are there told, that the
lava is “ nothing else than diverse kinds of metals and
minerals, rendered liquid by the fierceness of the fire
in the bowels of the earth, boiling up and gushing
forth
A E T
yEtaa. lorth as the water doth at the head of some great ri-
—^ 1 ver ; and having run in a full body for a stone’s cast or
more, began to crust or curdle, becoming, when cold,
those hard porous stones which the people call sciari'i.
Ihese, though cold in comparison of what first issues
from the mountain, yet retained so much heat as to
resemble huge cakes of sea-coal strongly ignited, and
came tumbling over one another, bearing down or
burning whatever was in their way.—In this manner
the lava proceeded slowly on till it came to the sea,
when a most extraordinary conflict ensued betwixt the
two adverse elements. The noise was vastly more
dreadful than the loudest thunder, being heard through
the whole country to an immense distance ; the water
seemed to retire and diminish before the lava, while
clouds of vapour darkened the sun. The whole fish on
the coast were destroyed, the colour of the sea itself
was changed, and the transparency of its waters lost for
many months.
While this lava was issuing in such prodigious quan¬
tity, the merchants, whose account is recorded in the
Philosophical Transactions, attempted to go up to the
mouth itself; but durst not come nearer than a furlong,
lest they should have been overwhelmed by a vast pillar
of ashes, which to their apprehension exceeded twice
the bigness of St Paul’s steeple in London, and went
up into the air to a far greater height; at the mouth
itself was a continual noise, like the beating of great
waves of the sea against rocks, or like distant thunder,
which was sometimes so violent as to be heard 60, or
even 100 miles oft j to which distance also part of the
ashes was carried. Some time after, having gone up,
they found the mouth from whence this terrible deluge
issued to be only a hole about 10 feet diameter. This
is also confirmed by Mr Brydone ; and is probably the
same through which Sir William Hamilton descended
into the subterranean caverns already mentioned.
27. Some years after this conflagration, a new burn¬
ing gulf opened in the month of December 1682 on the
summit of the mountain, and spread its lava over the
hill of Mazarra.
28. On the 24th of May 1686, about ten in the
evening, a new eruption burst out from the summit
of the mountain on the side contiguous to the hill del
Bue. Such a quantity of inflamed matter was thrown
out as consumed woods, vineyards, and crops of grain,
for four leagues round. It stopped its course in a
large valley near the castle of Mascali. Several people
from the neighbourhood had ascended a hill between
the wood of Catania and the confines of Cirrita, to ob¬
serve the progress of the lava : but the hill, on a sud¬
den, sunk inwards, and they were buried alive.
29. ^Etna was now long quiet; for no less a space
of time indeed than one half of the present age. In
the year 1755 its eruptions were renewed. It open¬
ed near Mount Lepra, and emitted as usual fire and
smoke ; after which it remained quiet only for eight
years.
30. In the year 1763, there was an eruption which
continued three months, but with intervals. JfLtna
was at first heard to rebellow. Flames and clouds of
smoke were seen to issue out, sometimes silver-colour¬
ed, and at other times, when the rays of the sun fell
upon them, of a purple radiance : at length they were
carried off by the winds, and rained, as they were
Vox. I. Part I. ’ f
A E T
driven before them, a shower of fire all the way to
Catania and beyond it. An eruption soon hurst out; —v-—
the principal torrent divided into two branches, one of
which ran towards the east, and fell into a deep and
extensive valley.
I he flames which issued from this new crater af¬
forded a noble spectacle. A pyramid of fire was seen
to rise to a prodigious height in the air, like a beau-
titu artificial fire-work, with a constant and formi¬
dable battery, which shook the earth under those who
were spectators of the scene. Torrents of melted
matter running down the sides of the mountain, dif¬
fused a light bright as day through the darkness of
night.
At sunrising the burning lava was observed to have
run lound some oaks that were still standing unburnt.
Their leaves were all withered. Some birds had fallen
from their branches, and been burnt to death. Some
people cast wood upon the lava, and it was immediately
burnt. This lava continued hot, and exhaled smoke
for two years. For five years after this, no snow ap¬
peared on the summit of ./Etna.
31. In the year 1764 a new crater was opened at a
great distance from Mount ./Etna.
32. In the year 1766 another was opened at the
grotto ol Paterno : fire, smoke, and an inconsiderable
torrent of lava issued out of it.
33. On the 27th of January 1780 a new' opening
was formed two miles under the last-mentioned crater.
On the 28th of February, and the 14th March, the
earthquake was renewed on the north side, and accom¬
panied with terrible noises.
Between the 6th of April and the 7th of May the
convulsions were again renewed, accompanied with
noise as before; a quantity of pumice stones and fine
sand was discharged from it.
On the 18th of May the shocks were renewed ; on
the 23d a new crater was formed on the side of Mount
Frumento on the summit of /Etna ; and from it a tor¬
rent of lava discharged, which spread through the val¬
ley of Laudunza. It was 200 paces in breadth. Two
other chinks were opened in the mountain near Paterno,
and very near one another. The lava issuing from them
proceeded, in the space of seven days, six miles ; on the
25th it had run nine miles.
A new crater was likewise opened on the 25th;
from which a quantity of red-hot stones continued to
issue for half an hour, and fell at a very great distance:
there proceeded likewise from it a stream of lava ; which,
in the same space of time, ran over a tract of country
two miles in extent.
Several parts of those streams of lava were observed
to he cold on the surface, and formed into solid masses,
but melted again by a new stream of burning lava,
which however did not melt the old lava.
34. The last eruption happened in 1787. From the 1st Aecount of
to the 10th of July, there were signs of its approach, the late
On the nth, after a little calm, there Was a subterra-eruPtl0*j
neous noise, like the sound of a drum,in a close place,
and it was followed by a copious burst of black smoke.
It was then calm till the 15th, when the same progno¬
stics recurred. On the 17th, the subtemii.eous noise
was beard again : the smoke was more abundant, slight
shocks of an earthquake followed, and the lava flowed
from behind one of the two little mountains which form
I i the
[ 249 3
A E T [ 250 ] A E T
JEtna. the double head of iEtna. On the 18th, while the
.—spectators were in anxious expectation of a more severe
eruption, all was quiet, and continued so more than
1 2 hours : soon after they perceived some new shocks,
accompanied with much noise j and the mountain
threw out a thick smoke, which, as the wind was
westerly, soon darkened the eastern horizon : two hours
afterwards a shower of fine black brilliant sand descend¬
ed : on the east side it was a storm of stones ; and, at
the foot of the mountain, a deluge of flashes of fire, of
scoria and lava.
These appearances continued the whole day j at the
setting of the sun the scene changed. A number of
conical flames rose from the volcano j one on the north,
another on the south, were very conspicuous, and rose
and fell alternately. At three in the morning, the
mountain appeared cleft, and the summit seemed a burn¬
ing mass'. The cones of light which arose from the cra¬
ter were of an immense extent, particularly the two
just mentioned. The two heads seemed to be cut away:
and at their separation was a cone of flame, seemingly
composed of many lesser cones. The flame seemed of
the height of the mountain placed on the mountain ;
so that it was probably two miles high, on a base of a
mile and a half in diameter. This cone was still co¬
vered with a very thick smoke, in which there appear¬
ed very brilliant flashes of lightning, a phenomenon
which iEtna had not before afforded. At times, sounds
like those from the explosion of a large cannon were
heard seemingly at a less distance than the mountain.
From the cone, as from a fountain, a jet of many
flaming volcanic matters was thrown, which were car¬
ried to the distance of six or seven miles : from the
base of the cone a thick smoke arose, which, for a mo¬
ment obscured some parts of the flame, at the time
when the rivers of lava broke out. This beautiful ap¬
pearance continued three quarters of an hour. It be¬
gan the next night with more force; but continued
only half an hour. In the intervals, however, ./Etna
continued to throw out flames, smoke, ignited stones,
and showers of sand. From the 20th to the 22d, the
appearances gradually ceased. The stream of lava was
carried towards Bronte and the plain of Lago.
After the eruption, the top of the mountain on the
western side was found covered with hardened lava,
scoria, and stones. The travellers were annoyed by
smoke, by showers of sand, mephitic vapours, and ex¬
cessive heat. They saw that the lava which came from
the western point divided into two branches, one of
which was directed towards Libeccio ; the other, as we
have already said, towards the plain of Lago. The lava
on the western head of the mountain, had from its va¬
rious shapes been evidently in a state of fusion j from
one of the spiracula, the odour was strongly that of
liver of sulphur. The thermometer, in descending, was
at 40 degrees of Fahrenheit’s scale 5 while near the
lava, in the plain of Lago, it was 140 degrees. The
lava extended two miles; its width was from 13^ to
21 feet, and its depth 13^ feet.
These are the most remarkable circumstances we have
been able to collect, that might serve to give an ade¬
quate idea of this famous mountain. Many things,
however, concerning the extent, antiquity, &c. of the
lavas, remain to be discussed, as well as the opinions of
philosophers concerning the origin of the internal fire
which produces so much mischief: but the considera-
tion of these belongs to the general article Volcano, t|
to which the reader is referred. , Atoli^
JEtna salt, Sal JEtnce, a name given by some an-
thors to the sal ammoniac which is found on the sur¬
face and sides of the openings of iEtna, and other
burning mountains, after their eruptions ; and some¬
times on the surface of the ferruginous matter which
they throw out. This salt makes a very various ap¬
pearance in many cases : it is sometimes found in large
and thick cakes ; sometimes only in form of a thin
powder, scattered over the surface of the earth and
stones. Some of this salt is yellow, some white, and
some greenish.
JETOLARCHA, in Grecian antiquity, the prin¬
cipal magistrate or governor of the AEtolians.
AETOLIA, a country of ancient Greece, compre¬
hending all that tract now called the Despotat, or Little
Greece. It was parted on the east by the river Evanus,
now the Fidari, from the Locrenses Ozolae ; on the
west, from Acarnania, by the Achelous : on the north,
it bordered on the country of the Dorians and part of
Epirus ; and, on the south, extended to the bay of
Corinth.
The AEtolians were a restless and turbulent people ;
seldom at peace among themselves, and ever at war
with their neighbours; utter strangers to all sense of
friendship or principles of honour ; ready to betray
their friends upon the least prospect of reaping any
advantage from their treachery : in short, they were
looked upon by the other states of Greece no otherwise
than as outlaws and public robbers. On the other
hand, they were bold and enterprising in war ; inured
to labour and hardships ; undaunted in the greatest
dangers ; jealous defenders of their liberties, for which
they were, on all occasions, willing to venture their
lives, and sacrifice all that was most dear to them.
They distinguished themselves above all the other na¬
tions of Greece, in opposing the ambitious designs of
the Macedonian princes ; who, after having reduced
most of the other states, were forced to grant them a
peace upon very honourable terms. The constitution
of the AEtolian republic was copied from that of the
Achoeans, and with a view to form, as it were, a coun¬
ter alliance ; for the AEtolians bore an irreconcileable
hatred to the Achseans, and had conceived no small
jealousy at the growing power of that state. The
Cleomenic war, and that of the allies, called the social
war, were kindled by the AEtolians in the heart of
Peloponnesus, with no other view but to humble their
antagonists the Achaeans. In the latter, they held
out, with the assistance only of the Eleans and Lace¬
demonians for the space of three years, against the
united forces of Achaia and Macedon ; but were
obliged at last to purchase a peace, by yielding up to
Philip all Acarnania. As they parted with this pro¬
vince much against their will, they watched all oppor¬
tunities of wresting it again out of the Macedonian’s
hand ; for which reason they entered into an alliance
with Rome against him, and proved of great service to
the Romans in their war with him ; but growing in¬
solent upon account of their services^ they made war
upon the Romans themselves. By that warlike nation
they were overcome, and granted a peace on the fol¬
lowing severe terms : I. The majesty of the Roman-
people
A E T [ 251 ] A F F
/EtoUa, people shall be revered in all iEtolia. 2. iEtolia shall
—y—^ not suffer the armies of such as are at war with Rome
to pass through her territories, and the enemies of
Rome shall be likewise the enemies of ^Etolia. 3. She
shall, in the space of 100 days, put into the hands of
the magistrates of Corcyra all the prisoners and desert¬
ers she has, whether of the Romans or their allies, ex¬
cept such as have been taken twice, or during her al¬
liance with Rome. 4. The /Etolians shall pay down
in ready money, to the Roman general in iEtolia, 200
Euboic talents, of the same value as the Athenian ta¬
lents, and engage to pay 50 talents more within the
six years following. 5. They shall put into the hands
of the consul 40 such hostages as he shall choose j none
of whom shall be under 12, or above 40 years of age:
the praetor, the general of the horse, and such as have
been already hostages at Rome, are excepted out of
this number. 6. iEtolia shall renounce all preten¬
sions to the cities and territories which the Romans
have conquered, though these cities and territories
had formerly belonged to the iEtolians. 7. The city
of Oenis, and its district, shall be subject to the Acar-
nanians.
After the conquest of Macedon by iEmilius Paulus,
they were reduced to a much worse condition ; for not
only those among them who had openly declared for
Perseus, but such as were only suspected to have fa¬
voured him in their hearts, were sent to Rome, in or¬
der to clear themselves before the senate. There they
were detained, and never afterwards suffered to return
into their native country. Five hundred and fifty of
the chief men of the nation were barbarously assassi¬
nated by the partisans of Rome, for no other crime
but that of being suspected to wish well to Perseus.
The jEtolians appeared before vEmilius Paulus in
mourning habits, and made loud complaints of such
inhuman treatment 5 but could obtain no redress : nay,
ten commissioners .who had been sent by the senate to
settle the affairs of Greece, enacted a decree, declaring
that those who were killed had suffered justly, since it
appeared to them that they had favoured the Macedo¬
nian party. From this time those only were raised to
the chief honours and employments in the ^Etolian re¬
public who were known to prefer the interest of Rome
to that of their country; and as these alone were coun¬
tenanced at Rome, all the magistrates of iEtolia were
the creatures and mere tools of the Roman senate. In
this state of servile subjection they continued till the
destruction of Corinth, and the dissolution of the A-
chsean league; when iEtolia, with the other free states
of Greece, was reduced to a Roman province, com¬
monly called the province of Achaia. Nevertheless,
each state and city was governed by its own laws, un¬
der the superintendency of the praetor whom Rome sent
annually into Achaia. The whole nation paid a cer¬
tain tribute, and the rich were forbidden to possess
lands anywhere but in their own country.
In this state, with little alteration, iEtolia continued
under the emperors, till the reign of Constantine the
Great, who, in his new partition of the provinces of
the empire, divided the western parts of Greece from
the rest, calling them New Epirus, and subjecting the
whole country to the prcefectus prwtorii for Illyricum.
Under the successors of Constantine, Greece was par¬
celled out into several principalities, especially after
the taking of Constantinople by the Western princes. JEtolia
At that time, Theodorus Angelas, a noble Grecian, ||
of the imperial family, seized on iEtolia and Epirus. Affection.
The former he left to Michael his son, who maintain- '' ' v
ed it against Michael Palseologus, the first emperor of
the Greeks, after the expulsion of the Latins. Charles,
the last prince of this family, dying in 1430 without
lawful issue, bequeathed Eitolia to his brother’s son,
named also Charles; and Acarnania to his natural sons
Memnon, Turnus, and Hercules. But, great dis¬
putes arising about this division, Amurath II. after
the reduction of Thessalonica, laid hold of so favour¬
able an opportunity, and drove them all out in 1432.
The Mahometans were afterwards dispossessed of this
country by the famous prince of Epirus, George Ca-
striot, commonly called Scanderheg; who, with a small
army, opposed the whole power of the Ottoman em¬
pire, and defeated these barbarians in 22 pitched bat¬
tles. That hero, at his death, left great part of ^Eto-
lia to the Venetians; but, they not being able to make
head against such a mighty power, the whole country
was soon reduced by Mohammed II. whose successors
hold it to this day.
AFER, Domitius, a famous orator, born at Nis-
mes, flourished under Tiberius, and the three succeed¬
ing emperors. Quintilian makes frequent mention of
him, and commends his pleadings. But he disgraced
his talents, by turning informer against some of the
most distinguished personages in Rome. Quintilian, in
Ins youth, cultivated the friendship of Domitius very
assiduously. He tells us that his pleadings abounded
with pleasant stories, and that there were public col¬
lections of his witty sayings, some of which he quotes.
He also mentions two books of his “ On Witnesses.','>
Domitius was once in great danger from an inscrip¬
tion he put upon a statue erected by him in honour of
Caligula, wherein he declared that this prince was a
second time consul at the age of 27. This he in¬
tended as an encomium, but Caligula taking it as a
sarcasm upon his youth, and his infringement of the
laws, raised a process against him, and pleaded himself
in person. Domitius, instead of making a defence, re¬
peated part of the emperor’s speech with the highest
marks of admiration ; after which he fell upon his
knees, and, begging pardon, declared, that he dread¬
ed more the eloquence of Caligula than his imperial
power. This piece of flattery succeeded so well,
that the emperor not only pardoned, but also raised
him to the consulship. Afer died in the reign of Ne¬
ro, A. D. 59.
AFFA, a weight used on the Gold Coast of Gui¬
nea. It is equal to an ounce, and the half of it is cal-
led eggeba. Most of the blacks on the Gold Coast give
these names to these weights.
AFFECTION, in a general sense, implies an attri¬
bute inseparable from its subject. Thus magnitude,
figure, weight, &c. are affections of all bodies ; and
love, fear, hatred, &c. are affections of the mind.
Affection, signifying a settled bent of mind towards
a particular being or thing, occupies a middle space
between disposition on the one hand, and passion on-the
other*. It is distinguishable from Disposition, which# gee ^j.
being a branch of one’s nature, originally, must exist^0SjY,-0W
before there can be an opportunity to exert it upon any and Pas-
particular object; whereas Affection can never be ori- Jwn.
I 1 2 ginal,
Afl'ectiou
8
Affinity.
A F F r 252 ] A F F
g'mal, because, having a special relation to a particular
object, it cannot exist till the object have once at least
been presented. It is also distinguishable from Passion,
which, depending on the real or ideal presence of its
object, vanishes with it: whereas Affection is a last¬
ing connection •, and, like other connections, subsists
even when we do not think of the person. A familiar
example will illustrate this. There may be in one per¬
son’s mind a disposition to gratitude, which, through
want of an object, happens never to be exerted ; and
which therefore is never discovered even by the person
himself. Another, who has the same disposition, meets
with a kindly office that makes him grateful to his be¬
nefactor : An intimate connection is formed between
them, termed ; which, like other connections,
lias a permanent existence, though not always in view.
The affection, for the most part, lies dormant, till an
opportunity offer for exerting it: in that circumstance,
it is converted into the passion of gratitude ; and the
opportunity is eagerly seized of testifying gratitude in
the warmest manner.
Affection, among physicians, signifies the same as
disease. Thus the hysteric affection is the same with
the hysteric disease.
AFFERERS or Afferors, in Law, per-sons ap¬
pointed in coerts-leet, courts-baron, &c. to settle, upon
oath, the fines to be imposed upon those who have been
guilty of faults arbitrarily punishable.
AFFETTUOSO, or Con Affetto, in the Italian
music, intimates that the part to which it is added
ought to be played in a tender moving way, and conse¬
quently rather slow than fast.
AFFIANCE, in Law, denotes the mutual plight¬
ing of troth between a man and woman to marry each
other.
AFFIDAVIT, signifies an oath in writing, sworn
before some person who is authorized to take the same.
AFFINITY, among civilians, implies a relation
contracted by marriage j in contradistinction to con¬
sanguinity, or relation by blood.—Affinity does not
found any real kinship ; it is no more than a kind of
fiction, introduced on account of the close relation be¬
tween husband and wife. It is even said to cease when
the cause of it ceases : hence a woman who is not ca¬
pable of being a witness for her husband’s brother du¬
ring bis lifetime, is allowed for a witness when a wi¬
dow, by reason the affinity is dissolved. Yet with re¬
gard to the contracting marriage, affinity is not dissol¬
ved by death, though it be in every thing else.
There are several degrees of affinity, wherein mar¬
riage was prohibited by the law of Moses : thus, the
son could not marry his mother, or his father’s wife
(Lev. xviii. 7. et seq.) : the brother could not marry
his sister, whether she were so by the father only or
by the mother only, and much less if she was his sister
both by the same father and mother : the grandfather
could not marry his grand-daughter, either by his son
or daughter. No one could marry the daughter of his
father’s wife, nor the sister of his father or mother ;
nor the uncle his niece j nor the aunt her nephew ;
nor the nephew the wife of his uncle by the father’s
side. The father-in-law could not marry his daugh¬
ter-in-law ; nor the brother the wife of his brother,
while living ; nor even after the death of his brother,
if he left children. If he left not children, the surviv¬
ing brother was to raise up children to bis deceased
brother, by marrying his widow. It was forbidden to
marry the mother and the daughter at one time, or the
daughter of the mother’s son, or the daughter of her
daughter, or two sisters together. It is true die pa¬
triarchs before the law married their sisters, as Abra¬
ham married Sarah, who was his father’s daughter by
another mother ; and two sisters together, as Jacob
married Rachel and Leah ; and their own sisters by
both father and mother, as Seth and Cain. But these
cases are not to be proposed as examples : because in
some they were authorized by necessity, in others by
custom j and the law as yet was not in being. If
some other examples may be found, either before or
since the law, the Scripture expressly disapproves of
them, as Reuben’s incest with Bilhah his father’s con¬
cubine, and the action of Amnon with his sister Ta¬
mar ; and that of Herod-Antipas, who married Hero-
dias his sister-in-law, his brother Philip’s wife, while
her husband was yet living.
Affinity is also used to denote conformity or agree¬
ment : Thus we say, the affinity of languages, the affi¬
nity of words, the affinity of sounds, &c.
Affinity, in Chemistry, is a term employed to ex¬
press that peculiar propensity which the particles of
matter have to unite and combine with each other ex¬
clusively, or in preference to any other connection.
The attractions between bodies at insensible di¬
stances, and which of course are confined to the parti¬
cles of matter, have been distinguished by the name
of affinity, while the term attraction has been more
commonly confined to cases of sensible distance. And
as the particles of matter are of two kinds, either ho¬
mogeneous or heterogeneous, so there are two kinds of
affinity.
“ Homogerieons affinity urges the homogeneous par¬
ticles towards each other, and keeps them at insensible
distances from each other 5 and consequently is the
cause why bodies almost always exist united together,
so as to constitute masses of sensible magnitude. This
affinity is usually denoted by the term cohesion, and
sometimes by adhesion when the surfaces of bodies are
only referred to. Homogeneous affinity is nearly uni¬
versal $ as far as is known, caloric and light only are
destitute of it.
“ Heterogeneous affinity urges heterogeneous parti¬
cles towards each other, and keeps them at insensible
distances from each other, and of course is the cause
of the formation of new integrant particles composed
of a certain number of heterogeneous particles. These
new integrant particles afterwards unite by cohesion,
and form masses of compound bodies. Thus an in¬
tegrant particle of water is composed of particles of
hydrogen and oxygen, urged towards each other, and
kept at an insensible distance by heterogeneous affinity j
and a mass of water is composed of an indefinite num¬
ber ot integrant particles of that fluid, urged towards
each other by homogeneous affinity. Heterogeneous
affinity is universal, as far as is known } that is to say,
there is no body whose particles are not attracted by
the particles of some other body; but whether the
particles of all bodies have an affinity for the particles
of all other bodies, is a point which we have no means
of ascertaining. It is, however, exceedingly probable,
and has been generally taken for granted j though it
A F F [ 253 ] AFC
iffinlty is certainly assuming more than even analogy can war-
1J rant.” {Thomson's Chemistry.')
arfsong. AFFIRMATION, in Logic, the asserting the truth
of any proposition.
Affirmation, in Law, denotes an indulgence al¬
lowed to the people called Quakers: who, in cases
where an oath is required from others, may make a so¬
lemn affirmation that what they say is true ; and if they
make a false affirmation, they are subject to the penal¬
ties of perjury. But this relates only to oaths taken to
the government, and on civil occasions •, for Quakers
are not permitted to give their testimony in any crimi^
nal case, &c.
Affirmation is also used for the ratifying or con¬
firming the sentence or decree of some inferior court:
Thus we say, the house oflords affirmed the decree of
Itbe chancellor, or the decree of the lords of session.
AFFIRMATIVE, in Grammar. Authors distin-
1 guish affirmative particles j such as, yes.—The term
| affirmative is sometimes also used substantively. Thus
we say, the affirmative is the more probable side of the
question : there were so many votes, or voices, for the
affirmative.
AFFIX, in Grammar, a particle added at the close
of a word, either to diversify its form or alter its signi¬
fication. We meet with affixes in the Saxon, the Ger¬
man, and other northern languages ; but more especially
in the Hebrew, and other oriental tongues. The He¬
brew affixes are single syllables, frequently single letters,
subjoined to nouns and verbs 5 and contribute not a lit¬
tle to the brevity of that language. The oriental lan¬
guages are much the same as to the radicals, and differ
chiefly from each other as to affixes and prefixes.
AFFLATUS, literally denotes a blast of wind,
breath, or vapour, striking with force against another
body. The word is Latin, formed from ad, “ to,” and
flare, “ to blow.” Naturalists sometimes speak of the
afflatus of serpents. Tully uses the word figuratively,
for a divine inspiration 5 in which sense, he ascribes all
great and eminent accomplishments to a divine afflatus.
The Pythian priestess being placed on a tripod or per¬
forated stool, over a holy cave, received the divine af¬
flatus, as a late author expresses it, in her belly ; and
being thus inspired, fell into agitations, like a phrene¬
tic •, during which she pronounced, in hollow groans and
broken sentences, the will of the deity. This afflatus is
supposed, by some, to have been a subterraneous fume,
or exhalation, wherewith the priestess was literally in¬
spired. Accordingly, it had the effects of a real physi¬
cal disease j the paroxysm of which was so vehement,
that Plutarch observes it sometimes proved mortal.
Van Hale supposes the pretended enthusiasm of the Py-
thia to have arisen from the fumes of aromatics.
AFFLICTION is not itself, in propriety of medi¬
cal speech, a disease, but it is the cause of many : for
whatever excites envy, anger, or hatred, produces dis¬
eases from tense fibres; as whatever excites fear, grief,
joy, or delight, begets diseases from relaxation.
AFFORAGE, in the French customs, a duty paid
to the lord of a district, for permission to sell wine, or
other liquors, within his seigniory. Afforage is also
used for the rate or price of provisions laid and fixed by
the provost or sheriff's of Paris.
AFFORESTING, Afforestatio, the turning
ground into forest. The Conqueror, and his successors,
continued afforesting the lands of the subject for many Afforesting
reigns j till the grievance became so notorious, that the [1
people of all degrees and denominations were brought to i Afghans,
sue for relief j which was at length obtained, and com-
missions were granted to survey and perambulate the
forest, and separate all the new afforested lands, and re¬
convert them to the uses of their proprietors, under the
name and quality of purlieu or pouralle land.
AFF RAY, or Affrayment, in Law, formerly sig¬
nified the crime of affrighting other persons, by appear¬
ing in unusual armour, brandishing a weapon, &c. 5
but at present, affray denotes a skirmish or fight be¬
tween two or more.
AFFRONT. EE, in Heraldry, an appellation given
to animals facing one another on an escutcheon j a kind
of bearing which is otherwise called confrontee, and
stands opposed to adossee.
AFFUSION, the act of pouring some fluid sub¬
stance on another body. Hr Grew gives several expe¬
riments of the luctation arising from the affusion of di¬
vers menstruums on all sorts of bodies. Divines and
church historians speak of baptism by affusion ; which
amounts to much the same with what we now call
sprinkling.
AT GHANS, in History, a people who inhabit a
province in the northern parts of India, between the
30th and 35th degrees of latitude. Its length from
north to south may be estimated at 35<-) niiles, and its
breadth at 300' Cabul and Candahar are the two
principal divisions of the country ; but many of the
contiguous provinces have also been occasionally sub¬
ject to their princes. It is probable that not one-fiftieth
part of the country is under a state of permanent culti¬
vation. Most of the genuine Afghan tribes are migra¬
tory, and dwell in tents, and subsist on the produce of
their flocks. In the south, the country of the Afghans
is a barren desert of sand : to the north of Cabul it is
a savage and mountainous region. The central part,
through which the rivers Cow and Cabul flow, is fer¬
tile. The population probably does not exceed three
millions of all descriptions. The armies of the state
are composed of a diversity of nations ; but the best
troops are drawn from the Afghan districts. Cavahy
constitute their chief military strength ; a serviceable
horse in this country costing only about six pounds ster¬
ling. A corps of infantry, armed with matchlocks,
composes also a part of the Afghan armies.
The Afghans have been sometimes described as Tar¬
tars ; but they bear no resemblance to this people, ei¬
ther in person or language. They are hardy and ro¬
bust ; and being addicted to a state of predatory war¬
fare, have a fixed contempt for the occupations of ci¬
vil life. Bread, of wheat and barley, milk, butter, and
cheese, compose their usual diet. Throughout Hindo-
stan they are represented as ferocious, sanguinary, and
treacherous ; but their courage and military habits
make them be sought after as soldiers by the native
powers.
They boast of being descended of Saul the first king
of Israel, and that their great ancestor was raised from
the rank of a shepherd, not on account of his princely
qualities, but because his stature was exactly equal to
the length of a rod which the angel Gabriel had given
to the prophet Samuel as the measure of the stature of
him whom God had destined to fill the throne of Israel.
The
A F R [ 254 ] A F R
Afghans. The province which they occupy at present was for-
merly called Roh ; and hence is derived the name of the
Rohillas. The sects of the Afghans are very numerous,
and they are Mussulmans, partly of the Sunni, and
partly of the Schiek persuasion. They are divided into
four classes. The first is the pure class, consisting of
those whose fathers and mothers were Afghans. The
second class consists of those whose fathers were Af¬
ghans and mothers of another nation. The third class
contains those whose mothers were Afghans and fathers
of another nation. The fourth class is composed of
the children of women whose mothers were Afghans
and fathers and husbands of a different nation. Per¬
sons who do not belong to one of these classes are not
called Afghans.
Sir William Jones seems to have had no doubt but the
Afghans are descendants of Israel. “ We learn (says
he) from Esdras, that the ten tribes, after a wandering
journey, came to a country called Arsareth, where we
A F R
Africa. \ FRICA, (derived according to Bochart from a Pu-
-TA. jjj,, wor(j signifying ears of corn), was represented
by the ancients as one of the three great divisions or
continents of which they believed the world to consist.
—By them it was called Libya. Since the discovery
of America, it has been considered by the moderns as
one of the four quarters of the globe.
Excepting at its north-east corner, called the Isthmus
of Suez, which is a neck of land, about sixty miles over,
that unites it to Asia, Africa is entirely surrounded
by water. On the north it is bounded by the Medi¬
terranean sea, which divides it from Europe. Its whole
western coast is washed by the waters of the Atlantic
ocean, by which it is divided from America j and on
the east, the Red sea and the Indian ocean separate it
from Asia. From the Mediterranean sea on the north,
to the Cape of Good Hope, which constitutes its
southern extremity, is no less than 4300 miles. Its
broadest part, from Cape Verd, in the Atlantic ocean,
to Cape Guarda-fui, near the straits of Babel-Mandel,
at the mouth of the Red sea, is 3500 miles from west
to east. In shape it somewhat resembles a triangle, of
which the Mediterranean sea and the Atlantic ocean
form two sides, while the third side consists of the Red
sea and the Indian ocean.
Africa lit- The greater part of this vast peninsula has in all
tie known, ages remained unknown to the other inhabitants of the
world. The general aspect however of its situation,
represents it as well situated for maintaining a com¬
mercial intercourse with the other quarters of the globe.
It stands as it were in the centre between Europe,
Asia, and America *, and therefore has a much nearer
communication with each of them than they can have
with one another. It is opposite to Europe, on its
northern boundary, the Mediterranean sea, for al¬
most 1000 miles in a line from east to west 5 the di¬
stance seldom 100 miles, never 100 leagues. It is op¬
posite to Asia the whole length of the Red sea j the
distance sometimes only 15 miles, seldom 50 leagues.
Its coast, for about 2000 miles, lies opposite to Ame¬
rica, at the distance of from 500 to 700 leagues, in.
3
may suppose they settled : now the Afghans are said Afgkai
by the best Persian historians to be descended from the ,Afraui
Jews. They have traditions among themselves of such ^
a descent j and it is even asserted, that their families
are distinguished by the names of Jewish tribes, al¬
though since their conversion to Islam, they studiously
conceal their origin from all whom they admit not to
their secrets. The Pushto language, of which I have
seen a dictionary, has a manifest resemblance to the
Chaldaic ; and a considerable district under their domi¬
nion is called Hazareth or Hazaret, which might ea¬
sily have been changed into the word used by Esdras.
(Asiatic Researches.)
AFRANIUS, Lucius, a Latin comic poet, who lived
about a century before Christ. He wrote comedies in
imitation of Menander; and is commended by Tully
and Quintilian for his acute genius and fluent style.
Some fragments of his works only are now extant.
I C A.
eluding the islands ; whereas America is nowhere nearer A/ric
Europe than 1000 leagues, and excepting at its north-' M 'T
west corner, where it is yet little known, is not nearer
to Asia than 2500 leagues.
The knowledge of the ancients concerning Africa
seems to have been, in a great degree, limited to the
countries adjoining to the Mediterranean or to the
Red sea. The ideas, however, which Herodotus en¬
tertained of this great continent are by no means in¬
correct upon the whole : and it has been reserved for
our own times to verify a part of the description which
he has given of the interior of Africa. Previous to his
time, the whole sea coast of this continent had been
explored by the conductors of an expedition fitted out
by Necho, one of the kings of Egypt. It is to beExpedit
observed that this Necho took Sidon, and reduced
Phoenicia and Palestine. He must therefore have Pos'gypta°gi
sessed considerable maritime power: Nor was he lessi/hank
powerful by land ; for he marched through Palestine
and Syria to attack the Assyrians near the Euphrates,
and, in his way, defeated and slew Josiah the king of
Judah, who opposed his march at Megiddo (2 Kings
xxiii. 29.) Having defeated the Assyrians (or Baby¬
lonians) he placed a strong garrison in Carchemish, a
fortified city on the Euphrates which he had taken ;
and, in his return, he took possession of Jerusalem, call¬
ed Cadytis by Herodotus. This enterprising prince
employed a body of Phoenician mariners to circumna-Circmmi
vigate Africa, an undertaking which they accomplish- vigates
ed with success. The following is the short narrative ^ca'
given by Herodotus of this remarkable transaction :
“ Except in that particular part which is contiguous toHerodot >
Asia, the whole of Africa is surrounded by the sea. |lcc0UBt
The first person who has proved this, was, as far as we
are able to judge, Necho king of Egypt. When he
had desisted from his attempt to join by a canal the
Nile with the Arabian gulf, he dispatched some vessels,
under the conduct of Phoenicians, with directions to
pass by the Columns of Hercules, and, after penetrating
the Northern ocean, to return to Egypt. These Phoe¬
nicians, taking their course from the Red sea, entered
into
Max u,
Ur C<nu)°
Torreni
i
Q §
—-L-iil
i ^
SO ■
' >•
y ?
TA 1
^
4 ,.1
p,
A F E
Into the Southern ocean. On the approach of autumn
—/ they landed at Libya, and planted some corn in the
place where they happened to find themselves : when
this was ripe, and they had cut it down, they again de¬
parted. Having thus consumed two years, in the third
they passed the Columns of Hercules, and returned to
Egypt. The relation may obtain attention from others,
but to me it seems incredible ; for they affirmed that,
having sailed round Africa, they had the sun on their
right hand. Thus was Africa for the first time known.”
Many of the most eminent of the ancient historians
and geographers regarded this account of the circum¬
navigation of Africa as altogether fabulous, chiefly in
consequence of the story concerning the appearance
assumed by the great celestial bodies in the course of the
voyage, which was then unintelligible, from the imper¬
fect state of the science of astronomy. But the very cir¬
cumstances which, among the ancients, excited a doubt
about the existence or success of such a voyage, must
now be regarded as affording the most satisfactory in¬
ternal evidence of the veracity of the ancient Phoeni¬
cian navigators.
The Carthaginians were the rivals of the Egyptians
in commerce, and must undoubtedly have explored
a great part of the coast of Africa ; but, according
to the usual cautious and monopolizing spirit of com¬
mercial states, it is probable that they concealed their
discoveries from other nations. As almost no monu¬
ments of their literature now exist, we are deprived of
the means of investigating the full extent of their geo¬
graphical knowledge. One important document lias,
however, reached our times, which demonstrates the
enterprising spirit of that people. This is, an appa¬
rently abridged journal of a voyage to the western coast
of Africa, undertaken by Hanno the Carthaginian,
about 30 or 40 years after the expedition above, men¬
tioned under Necho king of Egypt. Herodotus does not
seem to have been informed of this undertaking of Han¬
no; nor does Pliny appear to have seen the journal of
the voyage, though he is no stranger to its contents.
Hanno is said to have deposited, at his return,
the journal of his voyage in the temple of Saturn 5
which may perhaps accpunt for the means of its preser¬
vation. It begins by stating, that “ it was decreed
by the Carthaginians that Hanno should undertake a
voyage beyond the Pillars of Hercules, and found Liby-
phoenician cities. He sailed, accordingly, with 60 ships
of 50 oars each, and a body of men and women to the
number of 30,000,and provisions and other necessaries.”
From the extent of this plan of colonization, or rather
of establishing permanent garrisons, upon the western
coasts of Africa, it is evident that these coasts must, in
some measure, have been previously examined. Major
Rennel, who has investigated the subject with great ac¬
curacy, with a reference to the journal of the voyage,
is of opinion that the Carthaginian or Libyphoenician
cities founded by Hanno, were all situated to the south
of the strait of Gibraltar, and to the northward or
the river Senegal ; and that all of them, excepting one
at Cerne, now called Arguin, were placed to the north
of Cape Bodajor. To the southward of Cerne, Hanno
during his voyage made two expeditions ; but it does
not appear that he made any attempt to fix an establish¬
ment beyond the limits now mentioned. On his first
expedition, he seems to have sailed into the river Sene-.
I C A.
gal, as may be supposed from the description given ;
tor it is said to be “ large and broad, and full of cro¬
codiles and river horses.” During the same voyage,
Hanno made a second expedition southward, apparent¬
ly for the sake of discovery. He appears to have doubled
Cape Verd, and to have sailed across the mouth of the
Gambia. His voyage is said to have terminated at a
2)1 ace which he calls the Southern Horn, supposed to be
either at Sierra Leona, or, at a little distance to the
south of it, at Sherbro. It is evident, from the general
style of the journal, that the Carthaginians, at the time
of this voyage, were altogether unacquainted with the
interior state of the country on the western quarter of
Africa. Excepting the mere description of the coast,
and its windings and bays, every thing is marvellous, and
apparently fabulous. I hey talk of having caught two
women covered with hair, whose skins they brought to
Carthage, meaning, in all probability, two monkeys of
some of the unknown species which abound in the coun¬
try of the Negroes. They also talk of streams of fire,
and of rivers of fire which seemed to be running into
the sea. A.t one place, during the night, they saw a
country which was on fire: and afterwards they saw
another country full of fires; in the middle of which
was a lofty fire, larger than the others, which seemed
to touch the stars. When day came, they discovered
this elevated fire to be a large hill, which they called
the chariot of the gods. 1 hese wonders have been ex¬
plained to us by later travellers ; who remark that it is
the custom, at certain seasons of the year, in the coun¬
try of the Negroes, to set fire to the dry grass ; and
that on those occasions, during the night, the whole ter¬
ritory seems to be a sheet of flame.
With regard to Africa in general, Herodotus de-Description
scribes it in this summary way: “All that part of«fAfrieaby
Libya towards the northern sea (Mediterranean), from HerodotuSj
Egypt to the promontory of Soloeis (now Cape Cantin
on the coast of Morocco) which terminates the third
division of the earth, is inhabited by the different na¬
tions of the Libyans ; that district alone excepted in pos¬
session of the Greeks and Phoenicians. The remoter
parts of Libya beyond the sea coast, and the people who
inhabit its borders, are infested by various beasts of
prey.—The country yet more distant is a parched and
immeasurable desert:'1 Here this ancient historian
clearly distinguishes three belts or regions parallel to the
Mediterranean, the northernmost of which we must con¬
ceive to have been that which extended along the sea
coast, and was bounded on the south by Mount Atlas,
and other ridges. The middle one is now called the
Country of Dates, because the inhabitants chiefly live
on that fruit ; and the third is the great African desert.
Beyond these, however, Herodotus had heard of a fourth <
region, belonging to the negroes; for, in another place
he divides the inhabitants of Africa generally into two
races (with the exception of strangers, viz. the Phoeni¬
cians and the Greeks). The natives (says he) are the
Africans and Ethiopians, one of which possesses the
northern, and the other the southern part of Africa.” 
By these nations are evidently intended the Moors and
the Negroes, which two classes are as distinct at the
present day as they were in ancient times.
This author, whose account of the ancient nations,
will always be a matter of much curiosity, because he
has justly been called the Father of Historyr as being,
the
256
Africa.
Inhabitants
of Africa
according
to Herodo¬
tus.
A F R
the earliest authentic historian whose writings have
been transmitted to us, gives a detailed account ot the
tribes that in his time inhabited the northern coast of
Africa, upon the borders of the Mediterranean j be¬
ginning with Egypt and proceeding westward to the
lesser Syrtis, mentioning only in general terms, the
rest of the country to the promontory of Soleis, (Cape
Cantin), which was erroneously regarded by him as the
most westerly point of the coast of Africa. The people
of this coast he represents generally as Nomades, from
Egypt westward to the lake Tritonis, by which he
means the lesser Syrtis, or gulf of Kabes ; and the
country, he says justly, is low and sandy. The coun¬
try farther to the west, called Africa Proper, or Nu-
midia, by the Romans, including the present states of
Morocco, Algiers, and Tunis, he describes as moun¬
tainous and interspersed with wood, and infested by
wild beasts and serpents of an enormous size. With¬
in this tract, however, he represents the inhabitants as
husbandmen who cultivate the ground and live in
houses. Mount Atlas is mentioned by him in the
same magnificent terms in which all the ancient writers
speak of it. “ At every approach it appears round
and steep, and so lofty that its summit can never be
distinguished by reason of the clouds that envelope it.”
Egypt was, in the days of Herodotus, a rich and po¬
pulous state, from which the Greeks had derived a
great part of their arts and of their religion. Begin¬
ning from Egypt and proceeding westward, he enu¬
merates the Africans in the following manner. The
first are the Adyrmachid<e, whose manners were in
every respect Egyptian, that is to say, civilized. He
imputes to them, however, a barbarous custom, that
their king possessed the privilege of sleeping the first
night with every new married woman. They inhabi¬
ted the coast between Egypt and the port of Pleunos,
adjoining to what is now called the desert of Barca.
Next to the Adyrmachidse were the Gilligammce, who
occupied the coast as far as the island of Aphrodisias,
supposed to be near Herna. The Asbystce were a
small inland tribe, situated between the Gilligammte
on the east, and the Auschicte on the west, having no
communication with the sea. They were accounted
remarkable beyond all the Africans for the use of
chariots drawn by four horses j and, it is to be obser¬
ved, that Herodotus says the Greeks borrowed from
Africa the custom of harnassing four horses to a cha¬
riot. The Auschicce, who bordered on the wrest of the
Asbystse, extended from above Barca to the neighbour¬
hood of the Hesperides on the sea coast. The Cabales,
an inconsiderable tribe, occupied the coast opposite to the
centre of the Auschicse, and extended themselves along
the coast near Tauchira, a town belonging to Barca.
The province of Gyrenaica, (now Kairoan or Kurin),
was situated within the tract of the Nomades. It was
the most elevated part of it, and wonderfully fertile.
It contained the first Grecian colony, and was also
named Libya Pentapolis, from its having five towns of
note in it, Gyrene, Barce, Ptolemais, Berenice, and
Tauchira *, all of which not only still exist as towns or
villages, but it is remarkable that their names are
scarcely altered, being called Kurin, Barca, Tollama-
ta, Bernic, and Taukera. The celebrated gardens of
the Hesperides were situated upon this coast on the
western border of the desert of Barca.
2
I C A.
The Nasamones, according to Herodotus, were the ^fric*
most powerful of the Nomadic tribes upon this coast. y-
They bordered upon the greater Syrtis, now called
the gulf of Sort. He says, that during the summer
season they leave their cattle on the coast, and go up
into the country to gather dates at a place called
Auge/a, which will be afterwards noticed. The Na¬
samones are said to have seized upon the territories of
the Psylli. These were a people who possessed the repu¬
tation of being able to charm serpents, and to cure the
wounds occasioned by their stings. Cato is said by Plu¬
tarch to have carried some of the Psylli with him for that
purpose, in his memorable march round the greater Syr¬
tis. It is certain, that in modern times, in Egypt, Abys¬
sinia, and India, certain persons are believed to possess
the power of completely subduing serpents of the most
venomous kinds, so as to have them entirely under
their command. They are said to seize on them with
their naked hands, without apprehension of mischief,
and this not only on serpents they have already been
accustomed to, but on such as they never saw before.
Beyond the Nasamones to the southward, Herodotus
mentions the Garamantes, whom he represents as a nu¬
merous nation, situated ten journeys from Augela,
between the Nasamones and the Macac. The Maccc
appear to have been the next tribe upon the coast after
the Nasamones. The present towns of Mesurata and
Lebida are situated within the territory that belonged
to them. The Gindanes, Lotophagi, and Machlyes, in
the order here mentioned, occupied the remainder ot
the space between the Macae and the lake 1 ritonis, or
gulf of Kabes j for Herodotus appears to have under¬
stood by the lake Tritonis, either the gulf alone, or
the gulf and an adjoining lake collectively, which in
his time very probably had a communication, though
they are now separated by a neck of land, and the lake
receives the name of Lowdeah. It is to be observed,
that the Lotophagi derived their name from the fruit
of a tree or shrub called the lotus, upon which they
subsisted, supposed to be the rhamnus lotus of Linnseus,
It is not only found in this territory, but also upon the
whole northern coast of Africa, and on many spots of
the desert, and even in the country of the Negroes.
To the westward of the lake Tritonis, Herodotus
mentions the Auses, the Maocyes, the 'Aaveces, and the
'Lygantes ; which last appear to have been the inhabi¬
tants of the province that contained the city of Car¬
thage: of the territories of this last state Herodotus
gives no description, though he says, that he is able to
name all the nations that inhabit the country as far as
the Atlantes, beyond which he knows nothing. Some
other positions in the north of Africa that were known
in the times of Herodotus, will be afterwards mention¬
ed.
With regard to the interior of Africa, the know¬
ledge of Herodotus was very indistinct. He mentions
Ethiopia in a way that in some measure corresponds
with Nubia, and Abyssinia : “ Ethiopia, (says he),
“ which is the extremity of the habitable world, i*
contiguous to Arabia on the south-west. In produces
gold in great quantities, elephants with their prodigi¬
ous teeth, trees and shrubs of every kind, as well a*
ebony. Its inhabitants are also remarkable for their
size, their beauty, and their length of life.” To
Ethipia, however, he gives a wide extent, so as to in¬
clude
Africa.
A F R
elude the whole region inhabited by men of a black
,-y—' complexion, as he calls it, the “ extremity of the ha¬
bitable world.” I he remotest source of the Nile was
unknown in his days ; and after all the efforts that
have been made for its discovery, it may be regarded
as having hitherto been visited by no European. He
supposes, however, that the course of the Nile, “with¬
out reckoning that part of it which flows through
Egypt, was known to the extent of four months jour-
nej’, partly by land, partly by water j” but beyond this
its course was unknown, though he says “ it is certain
that the Nile rises in tire west.” The most remarkable
fact, however, mentioned by Herodotus concerning
the investigation of the interior of Africa, consists of
the adventures of certain Nasamones who came from
the neighbourhood of Gyrene, now called Kurin. He
says that they made an expedition into the interior of
Africa, with a view to extend their discoveries beyond
all preceding adventurers. No attempt is made to
state the distance to which they penetrated; but it
must have been very great: “ first proceeding through
the region which was inhabited, they next came 1o
that which was infested by wild beasts j leaving which,
they directed their course westward through the desert,
and were finally taken prisoners by black°men of a di¬
minutive stature, and carried to a city washed bv a
great river, which flowed from west to east, and
abounded in crocodiles.” Of this great river nothing-
farther was ever discovered by the ancients. Herodo¬
tus thought that it was probably the Nile, and Pliny
calls it the river Niger, or the river of the blacks or
Eth iopians.
Ihe Romans were not a commercial people, and
troubled themselves little about the discoveries of the
Egyptians and Carthaginians whom they vanquished.
The fertile districts, however, in the north of Africa
adjoining to the shore of the Mediterranean, formed
the chief granary of the empire during its most prosper¬
ous period. Beyond these districts they pushed their
conquests only so far as was necessary to secure their
possessions against the barbarians of the desert. Both
Augustus and Nero, however, sent persons to attempt
to discover the source of the Nile, but without success 5
and the Romans were never remarkable for investiga¬
ting the state of foreign countries when they had no
scheme of conquest in view. In the decline of the
Roman empire A. D. 426. Bonifacius, the governor
of Africa, revolted, and called in the aid of Genseric
the chief of a horde of barbarians called Vandals, who
had penetrated from the north of Europe into Spain,
tionof These barbarians crossed the straits of Gibraltar, and
an- soon became masters ef the country. About a century
"t0 thereafter, their descendents, in a fertile and enervating
climate, having lost their military character, were
vanquished by the celebrated Belisarius under Justi¬
nian, then at the head of the eastern division of the
Roman, empire. At a later period, when Mahomet
had roused his countryman to war and conquest, under
the influence of a furious fanaticism, Egypt and the
mn by rest of the north of Africa were overrun by the
Arabs, or, as they are called, the Saracens, A. D.647.
In a few centuries thereafter, the empire of the Sara¬
cens in Africa, where they were called Moors, was
‘gradually divided into a variety of petty states called
Vol. I. Part I. |
I C A.
the States of Barbary, which acknowledged rather a
nominal than a real dependence upon the Turkish em-'
257
Africa.
pire
Ihe rest of Africa was forgotten till the fifteenth
century, when the discovery of the mariners compass
enabled the Europeans to extend their maritime enter¬
prises to all the quarters of the globe, with a facility
that was formerly unknown. In these enterprises the Discoveries
1 ortuguese took the lead. They had never sailed along the Por-
the western coast of Africa, beyond Cape Non, in 270tuSue£e-
north latitude, till A. D. 1412, when they ventured
160 miles farther, to Cape Bojador, whose rockv cliffs
stretching out to a considerable distance into the At¬
lantic ocean, intimidated them from advancing far¬
ther. In 1419, when attempting to double this°cape,
they discovered the Madeira isles. Afterwards in0ftl)eMa
H331 they passed Cape Bojador, penetrated between deiraIsles!'
the tropics, and discovered the river Senegal and
the Cape de Verd isles situated between 14° and 18°, .. (
north latitude. In 1471, they crossed the equator, Ycrdisks.
and were astonished to find that the torrid zone con¬
tained fertile and populous regions, instead of beino-
burnt up by perpetual heat as had been formerly be^
lieved. In 1484, the Portuguese navigators, now be¬
come ambitious of the reputation of discoverers of new
countries, penetrated 1500 miles beyond the equator 5 ,
and two years thereafter Bartholomew de Diaz disco-” Good^
vered the Cape of Good Hope. In 1497, this cape, Hope,
being the southern extremity of Africa, was passed bv
Vasquez de Gama.
At. this time the European nations were fast emer¬
ging from barbarism. The feudal aristocracies, by which
they had been kept in a state of perpetual anarchy,
were gradually subdued by different princes, and a few
powerful states or monarchies were raised upon their
rums. These states enjoying greater domestic tranquil-
lity, were become capable of directing the energy and
superior intelligence, which began to prevail in the Eu¬
ropean character, to enterprises requiring united and
successive efforts. The discoveries of the Portuguese,
by pointing out a very fertile region in the centre of
Africa, in which gold and ivory could be obtained in
exchange for the manufactures of Europe, and in which
settlements could be easily formed, would in all proba¬
bility have directed to this quarter the whole activity
of the most enterprising of the European states, had
not other events diverted them to different quarters.
The events now alluded to, where the discovery of A-c
merica by Columbus in 1492, and the easy communi-interrupted1
cation with the East Indies, opened up by the disco-the disco¬
very of the passage round the Cape of Good Hope. venes in
Hence it has happened, that during these three centu-Africa-
ries Africa has been much neglected; and, in the most
enterprising period of the history of the world, the Eu¬
ropean nations, though the most enterprising of man¬
kind, have left in a great measure unexplored this im¬
mense continent, though situated in their vicinity, and
abounding in valuable productions. A few factories^,
for the purpose of procuring slaves have been established
by the English, French, and Spaniards, upon the west- l£U £*
ern coast, to the north of the equator. From thence to
the tropic of Capricorn, the Portuguese have a few set¬
tlements, upon the east and the west coast, for the same
purpose ) and the Dutch settlement at the Cape of Good
K k Hope,
African As
s#ciation.
3>:visioiu
of Africa.
Sahara, or
lie great
desert.
A F K
Hope, is the only establishment at all worthy of the
name of an European colony, retaining the language
and somewhat of the manners of the parent state.
What is known of the interior of Africa is chiefly
the result of the efforts of particular travellers, who
have penetrated into different quarters of that great
continent, impelled by the ambition of extending the
limits of human knowledge ; or it is the fruit of the ex¬
ertions-of a private society of persons of rank in Eng¬
land, instituted in 1788, bearing the name of the Afri¬
can Association, who have employed at their expence,
various individuals to enter Africa at different points,
and to proceed by such routes as have been thought
most likely to lead to important discoveries.
We shall now give a concise account of the great
continent of Africa, as far as a knowledge of it has been
obtained from these different sources. In the statement
now to be given, however, we shall avoid taking any
farther notice of that fertile stripe of territory on the
north of Africa, which borders upon the Mediterranean
sea, or upon the Atlantic ocean, southward to the moun¬
tains of Atlas, constituting the states of Egypt, Tripoli,
Tunis, Algiers, Fez, and Morocco. Neither shall we
take any notice of the country of Abyssinia at the head
of the Nile, or of the Dutch settlement of the Cape of
Good Hope, as. each of these will be separately discus¬
sed under their proper names.
Africa, to the south of the states on the Mediter¬
ranean and of Morocco, consists of two great divisions,
the Sahara, or great desert, which is the country of
the Moors or Arabs *, and Nigritia, Negroland, or the
country of the negroes or ^Ethiopians. The limits ot
these two divisions, though not in all cases accurately
defined, depend on the soil and climate, and appear
to have remained permanent from the days of Hero¬
dotus.
The Sahara, or great desert, extends from the south
of Morocco, and of the states on the Mediterranean,
commonly called the Barbary States, to the rivers Se¬
negal and Niger, or to a line drawn across the continent
of Africa, from Cape Verd to the Bed sea. Beyond the
Sahara or desert, to the southward, is the country of the
Negroes.
The Sahara presents a surface equal in extent to near¬
ly one half of Europe. It is upwards of 800 miles in
breadth from north to south, and more than double that
extent in length, from the Atlantic ocean on the west,
to the frontiers of Abyssinia on the east. Its general
description is that of a vast wilderness of lifeless sand,
parched by the intolerable heat of an almost vertical
sun. Its chief varieties consist of immense plains cover¬
ed with naked pebbles, or of barren rocks towering to¬
wards an unclouded and burning sky. The sterility of
the soil is rather marked than alleviated by some scat¬
tered plants, and by the verdure of a few valleys in
which water either stagnates or springs up.
The general description, however, of the great Afri¬
ca^ wilderness, is by no means to be understood as uni¬
versal or without exception. The desert is here and
there interspersed with spots of astonishing fertility,
which are crowded with inhabitants. Every thing in
the climate of Africa is in extremes. No cold is in¬
deed experienced in that vast continent; but barren¬
ness and fertility of soil border upon each other with a
degree of suddenness, of which, in the temperate cli-
I C A.
mates of Europe, we have no conception. The tra-
veller passes in an instant from burning sands to a rich r (
landscape, in which flocks and herds, and towns and
villages abound. The same vicinity of a tropical sun
which renders the wilderness intolerable, rears up all
vegetable productions in the utmost luxuriance and
perfection, in every spot in which water and a tole¬
rable depth of soil are to be found. These sequestered
situations in this great desert were called Oases, or
Islands, by the ancients. Under the Homan empire
it was not unusual to banish state criminals to an island
in the great Libyan desert. The continent of Africa,
like that of South America, is highest on its western
side, and its greater rivers the Senegal, the Gambia,
and the Niger, rise in a chain of mountains situated
nearer to the Atlantic than the Indian ocean. As the
Sahara extends towards the east and also towards the
shores of the Mediterranean on the north, its islands
abound most in these regions. But the lesser islands are
not always permanent. A furious wind from the desert,
bringing along with it an immense quantity of sand,
sometimes overwhelms a whole fertile district, and re¬
duces it to barrenness. We shall here take notice,
however, of such of the sequestered islands of this de¬
sert as are now known to be most important.
The ancients mention very particularly under the Oasts,
name of Oasis three situations, called the Greater Oasis,island' r
the Lesser Oasis, and the Oasis of Ammon. Of these fert'Hl
the Greater Oasis is at present the best known to thesert
Egyptians and the Arabs, because the caravans from
Cairo to Darfur pass along it. It is named Al Wah,
or the Oasis, by way of excellence. It appears to con¬
sist of a number of detached fertile spots or islands,
extending in a line parallel to the course of the Nile,
and of the mountains that border the valley of Upper
Egypt. The islands of the Greater Oasis are separat¬
ed from each other by deserts of from two to 14 hours (
travelling. The whole extent of the chain is about
100 English miles, but by far the greatest part of it is
desert. The whole Oasis is subject to Egypt, and has
ever been reckoned an appendage to it, being distant
from it about 90 miles. This Oasis contains abundance
of date trees, and plenty of good water. The principal
village in it is called ChagrS, and is situated in 26°
N. Lat. and 290 40' E. Long.
The Lesser Oasis does not lie in any of the tracks of-
the caravans, and is therefore little known. It is un¬
derstood, however, to begin at the distance of about 40
miles to the northward of the Greater Oasis, and to
proceed to a considerable distance in a direction towards
the north. It is called by the neighbouring Arabs Ai
Wah-el-Gherbi, which appears to mark poverty or in¬
feriority, perhaps, in comparison with the other. It
consists, like the Greater Oasis, of a chain of narrow
islands running parallel to the Nile.
The third Oasis contained the celebrated temple Xcmp^
and oracle of Jupiter Ammon, which was visited byJupii*
Alexander the Great. Though in its dimensions it isAm,,l<
perhaps less than the two former Oases, it is undoubt¬
edly the greatest so far as historical importance is con¬
cerned. In the time of Herodotus, the state or king¬
dom of Ammon occupied a considerable space betwixt
Egypt on the east and the desert of Barca on the
west, and between the Nomadic tribes along th«
coast of the Mediterranean on the north, and the great
Libyan
A F R
Africa. Libyan desert on the south.—As the ancient Persians
—v ■"worshipped one supreme deity whom they represented
by the sun, and as they had a regular and well disci¬
plined priesthood, they were taught to regard with in¬
dignation the idolatry of the Greeks. Hence the Per¬
sian monarch Cambyses sent an army against the Am-
monians, with orders to burn the temple from whence
the oracles of Jupiter were delivered. The expedition
was unsuccessful, the army having been overwhelmed
with sand, or left by their guides to perish in the de¬
sert ; so that no remnant of them ever returned.—
The position of the Oasis of Ammon lias lately been
ascertained by our countryman Mr Brown, who tra¬
velled into that quarter with a view to its discovery.
It appears to correspond with the modern Siwah, in
290 t 'll N. Lat. and 26° 18' E. Long. As a building
of such antiquity must be an object of great curio¬
sity, we shall transcribe Mr Brown’s description of
the small part of the temple that remains, the rest
having been destroyed by the modern inhabitants of
the country to build their houses and garden walls.
'^rTtiou ** ^ a sin£le aPart™ent,” says Mr Brown, “ built of
ihc tcm- many stones of the same kind as those of which the
. pyramids consist, and covered originally with six large
and solid blocks that reach from one wall to the other.
The length I found 32 feet in the clear, the height
about 18, the width 15. A gate situated at one ex¬
tremity forms the principal entrance, and two doors
also near that extremity open opposite to each other.
The other end is quite ruinous $ but, judging from cir¬
cumstances, it may be imagined that the building has
never been much larger than it now is. There is no
appearance of any other edifice having been attached
to it, and the less so, as there are remains of sculpture
on the exterior of the walls. In the interior are three
rows of emblematical figures, apparently designed to
represent a procession ; and the space between them is
filled with hieroglyphic characters, properly so called.
The soffit is also adorned in the same manner; but one
of the stones which formed it is fallen within, and
breaks the connection. The other five remain entire.
The sculpture is sufficiently distinguishable ; and even
the colours in some places remain.”
Mr Horneman, a native of Germany, a traveller
employed by the African Association, has still more re¬
cently visited Siwah, on his way from Cairo to Fezzan
along with a caravan, in which he travelled under the ’
Horne- character of a Mahometan merchant. He seems to
think, that the total circumference of the ruins of the
ancient temple of Jupiter Ammon may he several hun¬
dred yards, though in many places the outward wall
has been entirely carried away. He seems to have mea¬
sured the outside of the same building whose inside
appears to have been measured by Mr Brown, and
accordingly describes the length as from 30 to 36 feet,
the width 24, and the height 27 ; but he was inter¬
rupted in taking his measurements by the jealousy of
the natives. He also describes the ceiling as formed of
vast blocks of stone of four feet in breadth, and three
feet in depth, which extend across the whole building;
and this roof seems to have preserved this part of the
fabric entire, as the present barbarous inhabitants dare
not attempt to demolish the walls, lest they them¬
selves should be overwhelmed by the fall of the stones
which form the roof. One of these stones of the roof
1
I C A.
259
has fallen in, and is broken; “ but the people (says Mr Africa.
Horneman) have not been able to remove the large y—
fragments fallen from the roof, which their ancestors
were enabled to bring from the quarry, and to raise
entire to the summit of the edifice : such are the vicis¬
situdes of art, of knowledge, and of human powers
and means, as well as of human happiness and for¬
tunes.”
Ihe fertile part of the territory of Siwah appears State of
to be about 18 miles in circumference, containing se-SiwaE
veral small villages besides Siwah the capital. It is
an independent state, acknowledging the Grand Seig¬
nior as lord paramount, but paying no tribute. It
affords abundance of vegetable productions, with corn
and oil ; and is copiously supplied with water from
springs and small streams, but none of them flow beyond
its territory. They are either evaporated on approach¬
ing the surrounding desert, or, if they reach it, are lost
in the sterile sand. Its government is vested in about Govern.
32 wealthy citizens, who assume the title of scheiks.™M.
Justice is administered'according to ancient usage and
general notions of equity. Fines, which are paid in .
dates, constitute the punishment. The dress of the Diets,
men consists of a white cotton shirt and breeches, and a
large piece of callico cloth striped white and blue, ma¬
nufactured at Cairo, which is thrown over the left
shoulder, and is called melaye. On their heads they
wear a cap of red worsted or cotton, which is the di¬
stinction of aMussulman, no Jew orChristian being per¬
mitted to use it. The women of Siwah wear wide blue
shifts, usually of cotton, which reach to the ancles, and
a melaye, above described, which they wrap round
their head, and which falls over the body like a cloak.
They plait their hair into three tresses one above the
other, and fasten little bells to the lowest. They wear
ear-rings and necklaces of glass beads. Those of the
higher class wear round their necks a solid ring of silver
thicker than the collar usually worn by criminals in
some parts of the continent of Europe. There are
many catacombs in the neighbourhood of Siwah, which
formed the burying places of the ancient inhabitants,
which show great labour and neatness of work.
The same traveller, Mr Horneman, on his way to¬
wards Fezzan, passed through Augila, an island orOas?* of
oasis in the desert, that was well known in the days of Augila-
Herodotus. It is situated in 330 3' N. Lat. and 22°
46' F. Long. The territory contains three towns, Au¬
gila the capital, Mojabra, and Meledila. Many of the
inhabitants engage in the caravan trade. Those who do
so, very frequently have three houses, one at Cairo,
one in the territory of Augila, and a third in Fezzan,
with a wife and family establishment at each. The
country is level, and the soil sandy, but being well
watered it is tolerably fertile. After a march of 16
days from Augila, Mr Horneman reached Temissa, in
the territory of the important oasis Fezzan, of which
we shall now give some account upon the authority of
the journal which he has very recently transmitted to
Europe.
Fezzan, the country of the ancient Garamantes of Oasis of
Herodotus, called by Pliny Phazania Pegio, is up- Fezzaa.
wards of 1100 miles west from Grand Cairo, and con¬
sists of an extensive plain amidst a surrounding wilder¬
ness of sand and of naked rocks.
The greatest length of the cultivated part of Fezzan
K k 3 i*
2f)0
AFRICA.
Africa.
Produc¬
tions of
if ezzau.
Mechanic s
of Fezzan.
Trade.
Govern-
went.
is about 300 English miles from north to south, and its
greatest breadth from east to west is 200 miles. It
contains 101 towns and villages, of which Mourzouk
is the capital, situated according to Rennel, in 270 48'
N. Lat. and 150 3' E. Long. The principal towns to the
northward of the capital are Sochna, Sibha, Hun, and
Wadon ; Gatron to the south ; and Quila to the east.
The climate is never temperate. During summer the
heat is intense, and the south wind is scarcely support¬
able even by the natives. A penetrating north wind
prevails during winter, which drives to the fire even
the natives of a northern country. Tempests of wind
are frequent, which whirl up the sand and dust so as to
give a tinge of yellow to the atmosphere. Rain falls
seldom, and in small quantities. There is no river,
nor even a rivulet deserving notice, throughout the
whole country. The soil is what in Europe would be
called a light sand, covering calcareous rock or earth,
and sometimes a bottom of clay.
Dates are the staple produce of Fezzan, and in the
western parts some senna of a good quality is cultivated.
Pot herbs are plentiful. Wheat and barley are suited
to the soil and to the climate : but from the indolence
of the people, and the oppression of the government,
enough is not raised for the supply of the inhabitants,
and they rely for a part of their subsistence on impor¬
tations from the north. Horned cattle are only found
in the most fertile districts. They are employed in
drawing water from the wells, and are only slaughtered
in cases of extreme necessity. The goat is the ordinary
domestic animal, though sheep are bred in the southern
parts. The Wool is manufactured into coarse cloths,
and along with the meat the skin is roasted and eaten.
Horses are few. Asses are the beasts of general use,
whether for draught or burden. Camels are excessively
dear, and only kept by the chief people.
There are no other tradesmen in Fezzan than shoe¬
makers and smiths, the latter of whom work every me¬
tal and the same man forges shoes for the sultan’s horses,
and makes rings for his princesses. The value of the
woollen cloth, which is manufactured by the women,
may be estimated from this circumstance, that the
weavers shuttle is unknown, and that the woof is in¬
serted into the Warp thread by thread, and the whole
worked solely by the hand. Hence it happens, that
though the commerce of Fezzan is considerable, it
consists merely of foreign merchandise, brought by ca¬
ravans from various quarters, which are here disposed
of as at a centrical market. Cairo sends silks, calicoes,
woollen cloths, glass, imitations of coral, beads, and
East India goods. From Tripoli, a caravan brings
paper, false corals, fire-arms, sabres, knives, cloths call¬
ed abbes, and red worsted caps. From Bournou, on the
south-east, copper is imported in great quantities, and
the caravans from the south or west bring slaves of both
sexes, ostrich feathers, zibette, tigers skins, and gold,
partly in dust, partly in native grains, to be manufac¬
tured into ornaments for the people of interior Africa!
The smaller caravans of the tribes of the desert import
oil, butter, fat, and corn, and those from the more
southern districts bring senna, ostrich feathers, and ca¬
mels for the slaughter-house.
Fezzan is governed by a sultan, descended from the
family of the shereefs j but he pays 4000 dollars an¬
nually, as a tribute to the basha of Tripoli 5 and in
his correspondence with that basha, he assumes only the Afric
title of scheik, instead of sultan. The throne is here- v
ditary, but the eldest prince of the family succeeds,
though a brother or a nephew, to the exclusion of the
children of the last sultan, if they are younger. This
law gives rise to many civil wars between the sons of
their sultans and the collateral branches of the family.
The sultan’s house or palace is within the fortress Palace
of Mourz.ouk. He has no other inmates than eunuchs.^arem>
His harem is contiguous. It consists of about 40 slaves,
Avho are often sold and replaced by others if they have
no children, and of a sultana, who must be of the fa¬
mily of the shereefs of Wadan or Zuila. The sultan
never enters the harem, but any female whom lie wishes
to see is conducted to his appartment.
The sultan gives audience three times a-day, in aCeremoj
particular apartment, seated on an old-fashioned elbow ™es'
chair, raised some steps, which forms his throne. Per¬
sons introduced kiss the hand of the sultan, then raise
it so as touch their foreheads, and then kneel before
him. The sultan goes on Fridays to the great mosque
on horseback, and on other days of solemnity he rides
on a plain near the town, attended by his courtiers,
who exhibit their skill in equestrian exercises and in
shooting. II is official attendants consist of two mini¬
sters, and of a number of black and a few white slaves,
termed Mamelukes. All the interest and power rest
with these Mamelukes, who are mostly Europeans,
or their immediate descendants. The apparel of the Dress c
sultan, on days of ceremony, consists of the Tripolitan^ ^
dress, over which he wears a large white embroidered
shirt, made after the fashion of the Negroes. His tur¬
ban extends a full yard from the front to the hinder
part, and is two-thirds of a yard in breadth. His re-Rgyenv
venues consist of assessments on all cultivated lands,
and of arbitrary requisitions, which are collected by his
slaves in an oppressive manner, if they are not bribed;
He also derives an income from duties on foreign
trade, from certain territorial domains, and from salt
pools and natron lakes. The present sultan has added
to his treasures by predatory expeditions against the
weaker tribes in the neighbourhood of his country.
The chief booty upon these occasions consists of men and
women, who are sold as slaves. The princes of the royal
family are supported from certain territories allotted to
them, together with a weekly distribution of corn from
the sultan’s stores, and occasional exactions from the
people.
The clergy and the cadi or chief judge, are sup¬
ported by the produce of certain woods and gardens j
and they possess great authority with the people. The
dignity of cadi is hereditary in a certain family 5 but
the sultan, upon every vacancy, appoints to the office
that individual of the family who can best read and
write, accomplishments which here seem to he some¬
what unusual, and therefore much valued.
The population of Fezzan amounts to about 70,000 or populai ■
75,000 souls. In the southern districts they have mixed
with the natives of the desert, whom they resemble 5
hut the original Fezzanians are a people of ordinary
stature, of a deep brown complexion, with short black
hair and regular features. They possess little energy c^aej'
either of mind or body. Almost their only food con¬
sists of dates, or of a kind of farinaceous pap, with no
bucher’s meat. The men who can afford it are much
addicted
A F R
addicted to drunkenness. They use a very intoxicating
' ^ ‘ j liquor prepared from dates. The women have a great
,iis and fondness for dancing, which they practise publicly,
*se' not only in the day time but after sunset. The amuse-
'ts.' ^ ment is thus described by Mr Horneman : “ Two or
C 0 three men stand together with their tambourins ; the
women immediately form a circle round the men, beat
a tune, and those in the circle accompany it with
singing and clapping of hands. A girl then advances
dancing towards the drummers ; the men as she ap¬
proaches near them, join in the dance, and press to¬
wards her, on which she makes some steps backwards,
and then falls on her back with her body and limbs
stiff and perfectly straight ; when the women behind
catch her in the fall, a few spans from the ground,
and toss her in the air, whence she descends on her leet.
The men then resume their station in the centre, and
a second female dancer repeats the sport, which is
successively engaged in by each brisk damsel of the
circle.”
In Fezzan there are a great number of loose women,
and also of singing girls whose song is Sudanic, that is
derived from the country of the Negroes. Their mu-
oiTnts!.1'sical iHstrument is called rhababe; it is an excavated
hemisphere, m;tde from a shell of the gourd kind, and
covered with leather •, to this a long handle is fixed, on
which is stretched a string of horse hairs longitudinally,
closed and compact as one cord, about the thickness of
a quill. This is played with a bow.
Various sorts of venereal disorders prevail in Fez-
Se ’ zan; but it is worthy of remark, that, for the cure of
all the species, they only use salts and the fruit handal
(colocynth) as powerful cathartics j the sores, it any,
are at the same time washed with a solution of soda :
and these remedies seldom fail. Other maladies pre¬
valent there are the ague and haemorrhoids, for neither
of which have they any other remedy than amulets,
consisting of certain sentences of the Koran written on
a slip of paper, which the patient wears about his neck,
and in bad cases is made to swallow. It is said, how¬
ever, that their knowledge of surgery is sufficient to en¬
able them to cure a simple fracture.
South from Fezzan a variety of other islands are
Itna^ scattered, which have been united by conquest under
one chief, and receive the name of the empire of Cas-
sina or Kasseena. The territories of this empire, there¬
fore, consist of a considerable quantity of land of ama¬
zing fertility, interspersed with arid wastes, where the
rays of the sun, reflected from the sand or the rocks,
produce the most intense and suffocating heat. Cassina,
the capital, is situated in N. Lat. 160 20'. W. Long.
il° 45'. Agadez, which is an island, or province as
life in it may be called, of the empire of Cassina, sends annu¬
ally a caravan of 1000 camels to certain salt lakes in
the desert, at a place called Domboo j and the salt is
distributed among the other islands or provinces of this
■ empire.
hen. A similar empire, as travellers are pleased to call it,
consisting of a number of fertile spots of this immense
desert, is called Bornou. Mathan, the capital, is si¬
tuated in N. Lat, 240 32'. E. Long. 22° 57'. It is sur¬
rounded by a ditch, and a wall 14 leet in height. Ihe
king is said to be more powerful than the emperor of
Morocco. His dominions extend beyond the desert
i»to the fertile country of the Negroes, of which he pos-
3
I C A. 261
sesses a large portion. He is elected by three of the prin- Africa,
cipal chiefs -, but the choice is restricted to the royal—y——'
family. The military force of the state consists of ca¬
valry armed with the sabre, the pike, and the bow.
Fire arms are not unknown, but they are too difficult
to be procured.
Besides these, there is a variety of other districts in
this desert, of which some slight intelligence has been
obtained *, such as Gadamis, north-west from Fezzan,
about N. Lat. 320 j south-east from which is another
island, called Tuat, at the distance of about 400 miles.
On the south-east of Fezzan is Tibesti, at the distance of
200 miles : eastward of which, and 500 miles from the
Nile, is Bardoa. Zegzeg and Kur are in the same
vicinity. Farther to the south is Bergoo and Darfoor.Cc,r{.oon
This last lies to the southward of the general latitude
of the great desert. It has of late years been made
known by Mr Brown, tire first discoverer of the Oasis
of Ammon. He penetrated into Darfoor in 1792, and
remained there a considerable time. Its chief town,
Cobbe, is situated in 140 11' N. Lat. and 28° 8' E.
Long, and the country contains about 200,000 inha¬
bitants, consisting of native tribes of a deep black com¬
plexion and woolly hair, though with features different
from those of the Negroes, and of Arabs of various
tribes. The wild animals are, the lion, the leopard,
the hyaena, the wolf, and the wild buffalo. The do¬
mestic animals are, the camel, the sheep, the goat, and
horned cattle. Considerable quantities of grain of
different sorts are reared, and, as the country is with¬
in the tropics, after the periodical rains the fertility is
very sudden and great. The people are very barba¬
rous. The practice of polygamy is not only establish¬
ed, but the intercourse of the sexes is totally destitute
of delicacy or decency. The most severe labours of
the field are left to the women ; and the houses, which
are of clay covered with thin boards, are chiefly built
by them. Salt is the general medium of commerce at
Harfoor, as gold dust is in many other places of Africa.
This territory is governed by a chief, who calls him-Sultan ©f
self sultan, and assumes the most extravagant titles. Darfoor
He appears in public on a splendid throne, while an
oflicer proclaims, “ See the. buffalo, the offspring of RExtraordi-
buffalo, the bull of bulls, the elephant of superior nary titles,
strength, the powerful sultan Abd-el-rachman-el-rashid.
May God preserve thy life ! O master, may God as¬
sist, and render thee victorious !”
These islands of (he African desert are too little
known to render valuable any attempt at a more mi¬
nute description of them. They all resemble each
other in the fertility of their soil and the barbarous
state of their inhabitants, who are Mahometans, unless
where they approach the country of the Negroes.
Though they maintain towards each other the maxims
of apparent hospitality, yet a Christian is everywhere
odious j and they account it meritorious to persecute
or enslave him. Their language is chiefly a dialect of
the Arabic, and their literature is in a great measure
confined to reading the Koran. Their only intercourse
with other nations is carried on by the caravans which
periodically traverse these immense deserts : and the
smaller islands, that are neglected by the caravans, are
sometimes absolutely forgotten by the rest of the
world for many years j and their inhabitants, left to
themselves and to their native ignorance, at last ima-
262
AFRICA.
Africa.
Tribe of
Monscle-
jmines in
Western
Africa.
Govern¬
ment.
Produc¬
tions*
RnJe agri-
•alture.
Wars.
Idanners.
gine, that, except their own little territory, the whole
earth resembles the great desert which they see around
them.
It is to he observed, that the Sahara, or great wil¬
derness, does not on its western boundary all at once
attain its utmost degree of barrenness. Immediately
to the south of Morocco and of the mountains called
Mount Atlas, is a considerable extent of territory in¬
habited by a tribe called the Monselemines. In their
manners, they differ considerably from the Moors on
the coasts of the Mediterranean, and also from the
Moors or Arabs of the desert. Their civil govern¬
ment is republican, as they choose new chiefs every
year, who are accountable to the aged men of the com¬
munity. It is probable, however, that order is pre¬
served among them chiefly by the influence of their
priests, who are greatly respected ; and the influence
of the high priest amounts almost to despotic power-.
The people are chiefly engaged in a sort of pastoral
life, to which agriculture is occasionally united. They
have also villages in which various tradesmen reside,
chiefly weavers, shoemakers, smiths, and potters, who
have no cattle: But some opulent persons residing in
the towns have flocks and herds of cows, horses, ca¬
mels, sheep, and goats, besides poultrv, kept by slaves
at a distance in the country. The soil possesses consi¬
derable fertility, and produces the necessaries of life
with little cultivation. The plains abound with date,
fig, and almond trees; and grapes are cultivated. Oil,
wax, and tobacco, are also produced, and sold in the
villages. Their agriculture is very rude. The chiefs
of families, or small tribes, choose the ground most fit
for cultivation. Its surface is slightly turned over w'ith
a kind of paddle, for the plough is unknown ; and then
the seed is sown upon it. The spot is then deserted
by the inhabitants, who wander in all directions with
their cattle, and do not return till harvest, when the
corn is cut down and thrashed. Magazines are then
formed, consisting of holes in the earth* into which
the cox-n is put. Planks ax-e laid over it, which are co¬
vered with a layer of earth, made level with the soil,
to prevent its being discovered by enemies. These ma¬
gazines belong to every chief of a family or tribe, in
proportion to the number of men he employed ix? the
common labour.
The Monselemines are almost constantly engaged in
war against the emperor of Morocco. They are ex¬
tremely jealous of their independence and freedom ;
and their country is the retreat of all the discontented
Moors. No sooner does the emperor of Morocco take
the field against them, than the whole inhabitants of
the country districts mount their horses; and, while a
part of them escort the women and slaves, and cattle,
to places of safety, or even into the desert if they are
close pressed, the rest of them occupy the passes of the
mountains, and meet the enemy. During peace, par¬
ties of them often undertake to escort caravans, by
which means there is preserved among them a consi¬
derable military spirit. In other xespects they bear a
great resemblance to the ancient Arabs. They pex--
mit polygamy, hut their women ax-e not so much se¬
cluded from society as among the Moors on the sea-
coast. Their children are brought up with care; and
are not considered as men till they exhibit some proofs
af their courage. Jews are permitted to live among
them in their villages, hut they are not allowed to col- ^ I
tivate the earth, or to carry arms. Christians are muchv-
hated ; but a Christian slave is better treated than
among the other Arabs, because the avarice of the Mon¬
selemines is greater than their fanaticism. As their
slaves constitute their riches, they treat them tolerably
well from a principle of prudence.
To the south of the country of the Monselemines,
upon the coast of the Atlantic, is the wandering tribe
of Wadelims; to the south of whom are the Labdesse-
bas: And next to these are the Trasarts, who border
with the country of the Negroes. Eastward along
the northern fx-ontier of the Negroes lie the Moorish
states of Jaffnoo, Ludamar, and others. With the ex¬
ception of these small states, it is to be observed, that
the great desert, or Sahara, reaching from the Atlan¬
tic ocean to the frontiers of Abyssinia, and from the
vicinity of the Mediterranean to the country of the
Negroes, is possessed by two great Moorish nations
called the Tuarick and the Tibbo. Of these the TuarickTaarick
is the most powerful : It consists of the whole desert and Tib
west wax'd from the meridian of Fezzan. The desert,
of Sahara, eastward from the same meridian, belongs to
the Tibho. The manners and character of the whole
of these tribes, whether great or small, is neaxly or
altogether similar. The desert which they inhabit is
parched and uncultivated. Many places of it have
the appeax-ance of being capable of cultivation, as
shrubs grow in various situations ; and palms, or dates,
rise at distant intervals. But the flying sand is the great
obstacle to cultivation, by rendering the result of it
uncertain. The sand drifts with every gale, and is at
times accumulated into high mountains, which disap¬
pear as the wunds blow. Thus it is shifted about with
every change of the blast, excepting when the air is en-
tii-ely stagnant. Wlxeif the sand shower becomes for¬
midable, the Moors are obliged to load their camels,
turn their backs to the gale, and hasten away, to avoid
being buried alive.
As water is very scarce in the desert, the Arabs or
Moors form large holes for reservoirs to collect the
rain water, which, though it soon becomes putrid and
disgusting, is the only drink of man or beast. From the
scarcity of water, they have few horned cattle ; and
tls?ir flocks consist chiefly of sheep, goats, and camels,
animals which are patient of thirst. None but the weal¬
thiest Arabs, who possess numerous herds, are able to
maintain horses,as it is often necessary to give them milk
to drink instead of water. The urine of the camels is
carefully preserved to wash the vessels used to contain
food ; and the Ax-abs ax-e frequently under the necessity
of drinking it, mixed with milk, for the purpose of al¬
laying their thirst. As their riches consist of their herds
and flocks, they attend them with the greatest care.
It a beast be sick, it is attended with more anxiety than
a man ; but if it seem likely to die, they kill and eat
it. If it die before its blood be shed, it is accounted
unclean, and is never eaten.
The Sahara, or desert, abounds in antelopes, wildAoim*‘s
boars, leopards, apes, and serpents. The Arabs orfl1*^81*
Moors are expert hunters, and, as the leopard’s skin
is an article of commerce, that animal, from being fre¬
quently attacked, leatrxs to keep at a distance from
their habitations. Hunting the ostrich is a fityoui'ite
amusement. It is undertaken by about twenty horsemen
A F R
Uriel, who advance in a line against the wind, at the inter-
-v ' val of a quarter of a league behind each other. As
f^'trich soon as the foremost perceives an ostrich, he rushes up-
0:1 on it. rl he ostrich cannot fly ; hut with the assistance
of its wings, it runs in the direction of the wind, and
though it may avoid a few of the Arabs successively,
e Arabs cannot escape the whole number. In their hordes,
■ in the Moors or Arabs lodge by families in tents covered
|ts* with a cloth of camels hair, which the women spin
ruitare. and weave. The furniture of the tent consists of two
large sacks of leather, in which they keep their clothes
and pieces of old iron, a few goat skins for holding
milk and water, two large stones for grinding their
barley, a mattress of osier which serves for a bed, a
carpet for a covering, a small kettle and some wooden
ide; dishes, with pack saddles for their camels. They of¬
ten associate to convey salt, which abounds in the de¬
sert, into the country of the Negroes j for which, in
return, they bring back provisions and blue cotton
ir. cloth and slaves. They also associate for war and for
hunting j and in most cases, %vhere the property ac¬
quired consists of goods which can be packed up into
parcels, they divide it into shares, which they cover
pision of up> and fix upon a woman, a child, or a stranger, who
if knows nothing of the contents of the various parcels,
to distribute them by hazard to the different associates
of the enterprise.
dfcers. The only artificers among the Moors of the desert,
are smiths, or a kind of tinkers, who go among them
from the country of the Monselemines to mend their
broken vessels, or repair their arms, and are paid in
skins, goats and camels hair, or ostrich feathers, ac¬
cording to agreement. All of them are more atten¬
tive to their ’arms than to their dress 3 the latter of
which often consists only of a long blanket which
they wrap round them, with a cloak of camels hair,
and more frequently of goats skins. They wear loose
frocks or shirts, however, of blue cotton cloth, if
they can procure them from the Negroes, by whom
this cloth is manufactured. Their arms consist of dag¬
gers and clubs, with sabres and muskets if they can
obtain them. To this general description of poverty,
however, some of the Moors of the great, inland na¬
tion or tribe of Tuarick form an exception, in that
part of the desert which borders upon Fezzan, where
they have an opportunity of acquiring wealth by en¬
gaging in the caravan trade. Mr Horneman saw at
Fezzan many individuals of the Hagara, one of the
tribes of the Tuarick, and describes them thus : “ The
Hagara are yellowish, like the Arabs ; near Soudan,
there are tribes entirely black. The clothing of this
nation consists of wide dark blue breeches, a short
narrow shirt of the same colour, with wide sleeves,
which they bring together and tie on the back of their
neck, so that their arms are at liberty. They wind a
black cloth round their head in such a manner, that at
a distance it appears like a helmet, for their eyes only
are seen. Being Mahometans, they cut off their hair,
but leave some on the top of the head, round which
those who wear no cap contrive to fold their black
cloth, so that it appears like a tuft on their helmet.
Round their waist they wear a girdle of a dark colour.
From several cords which fall from their shoulders
hangs a Koran in a leather pouch, and a row of small
leather bags containing amulets. They always carry
I C A.
in their hands a small lance neatly worked, about five
feet long. Above the left elbow, on the upper part of
the arm, they wear their national badge, a thick black
or dark-coloured ring of horn or stone. Their upper
dress is a Soudanian (Negro) shirt, over which a long
sword hangs from the shoulder. The travelling mer¬
chants of this nation carry fire arms, though others use
only the sword, the lance, and the knife, which they
carry on their left arm 3 but the handle is finely work¬
ed ; for they have the art of giving to copper as bright
a colour as the English artists, and this art they keep
very secret. They carry on a commerce between Sou¬
dan, (i. e. Nigritia), Fezzan and Gadamis. Their
caravans give life to Mourzouk, which without them
is a desert; for they, like the Soudanians (Negroes)
love company, song, and music. The Tuarick are not
all Mahometans. In the neighbourhood of Soudan and
Tombuctoo live the Taga-V:a, who are white, and of
the Fagan religion.”
Hospitality is the most remarkable virtue of the Hospitality,
Moors, or Arabs of the desert. The chief of a horde
is by custom bound or entitled to entertain all stran¬
gers 3 but every tent contributes to bis stock of provi¬
sions. When a stranger reaches an Arab horde, the
first person who perceives him points out the tent of
the chief. If the master is not present, the wife or the
slave comes forth to meet him, and brings him milk to
drink. His camels are then unloaded, and his effects
ranged around him. His arms are deposited near those
of the master of the tent. The Arab, who in the field
is a rapacious plunderer, in his tent is generous and
hospitable ; and the person of an enemy is inviolable,
though he should have killed the near kinsman of its
master. All this, however, is chiefly to be applied to
persons of their own religion 3 for towards Christians
and Jews, their fanaticism renders them extremely in¬
tolerant. A Jew, more especially, if discovered, can
scarcely escape alive from among them.
Polygamy is allowed among the Arabs of the desert, Mar‘Bcl s'
as among other Mahometans 3 but it is very effectually
restrained by the poverty of the people. Divorce is
permitted at the will of either party 3 but if a male
child is born, the marriage becomes indissoluble. In
the education of children force is never employed. Education,
The priests, who are the teachers, instruct them to read
the Arabic characters and sentences of the Koran 3 but
if the child become weary of the school, he quits or re¬
turns to it at pleasure, without being reproached.
Property descends by inheritance in equal shares to Mode of
the male children 3 but the females have no share, an(l accession
are obliged to reside with their eldest brother. Yj)e t0 Pl0PertJ*
chief of the horde becomes the guardian of the children
who are left orphans. Property is ill secured by their
customs. If a thief is caught in the fact he may be
punished; but if he escape with his booty, it cannot
afterwards be claimed.
The abstinence and hardships which the Moors ofCharaelcr
the desert are frequently under the necessity of en-ofthc
countering, and their habits of predatory war against Mo°rS*
passing caravans, or hostile tribes, bestow upon them
an evident superiority over the more peaceful tribes of
Negroes who inhabit the fertile regions of the south.
They possess also the knowledge of writing, and of the
Arabic language, which inspires them with no small
confidence of the importance of their own character
and
264
AFRICA.
Africa.
Periodical
rains.
Negroe-
laud.
River Sene
gal.
Niger.
and accomplishments. Hence, they assume a haughti-
' ness of gait, and a ferocity of aspect, which distinguishes
them no less than their complexion from the Negroes
in their neighbourhood. Such is the presumption re¬
sulting from these sentiments, that though a small party
of Negroes would never risk themselves in the desert,
one or two Moors will travel with impunity through
all Africa, and plunder the Negroes by whom they
have been entertained.
As the equator passes almost through the centre of
Africa, by far the largest portion of that great conti¬
nent is situated within the torrid zone, and is possessed
by the Ethiopians and Negroes, who are called by the
Arabs Biled al Soudan, or Biled al Abiad, the land of
blacks, or the land of slaves. In all countries within
the tropics, excessive rains fall trvice every year about
the time of the vernal and of the autumnal equinoxes.
At these periods every river is swelled into a mighly
flood, and if the country be level it is completely in¬
undated. From this circumstance, along with the heat
of the climate, arises the extreme fertility of the middle
regions of the globe.
Though the Sahara, or great African desert, extends
a few degrees beyond the tropic of Cancer, yet its
boundaries begin to be ill defined; fertile spots be¬
come more frequent: and at last, in the latitude of the
Cape de Verd isles, and in the neighbourhood of the
first rivers, the Senegal and the Niger, the gum forests
mark the commencement of the land of the Negroes.
About 600 miles from the western coast, in the moun¬
tains of Kong, the river Senegal takes its rise, and
flows westward into the Atlantic ocean. The same
mountains are the source of the great river of the E-
thiopians, the Niger, the knowledge of which, from
the time of Herodotus, seems to have been lost by the
European nations, and has only been recently restored
in consequence of the intrepid and persevering exer¬
tions of our countryman Mungo Park, who had been
employed by the African Association to endeavour to
discover whether its existence ought to be regarded as
a reality or as an error of the ancient geographers. It
runs eastward j but its termination, as will be after-
wards noticed, is still unknown.
To the south of these rivers, all Africa belongs to
various nations of Negroes, among whom considerable
varieties of appearance and of character exist. In ge¬
neral, however, they are distinguished by short woolly
hair, flat noses, thick lips, and black complexion,
while their intellectual powers have been supposed by
some to be inferior to those of the civilized European
or Asiatic nations. Some modern writers, however,
such as Bruce and Volney, are of opinion, that the
elements of the arts and sciences came originally frcm
Upper Egypt and Abyssinia, and the ancients appear
to have ascribed to the Ethiopians the commencement
of civilizatioii among mankind. “ The Thebans (says
Diodorus) consider themselves as the most ancient peo¬
ple on the earth ; and assert that with them originated
philosophy and the science of the stars. Their situa¬
tion, it is true, is infinitely favourable to astronomical
observation, and they have a more accurate division of
time into months and years than other nations.” The
same opinion he attributes to the Ethiopians. “ The
Ethiopians conceive themselves to be of greater anti¬
quity than any other nation ; and it is probable that,
born under the sun’s path, its warmth may have ripen- Afrit
ed them sooner than other men. They suppose them¬
selves also to be the inventors of divine worship, of
festivals, of solemn assemblies, of sacrifices, and every
other religious practice. They affirm that the Egyp¬
tians are one of their colonies ; and that the Delta,
which was formerly sea, became land by the conglo¬
meration of the earth of the higher country, which was
washed down by the Nile. They have, like the E-
gyptians, two species of letters, hieroglyphics and the
alphabet j but among the Egyptians, the first was
known only to the priests, and by them transmitted
from father to son, whereas both species are common
among the Ethiopians.” “ The Ethiopians (says Lu¬
cian) were the first who invented the science of the stars,
and gave names to the planets, not at random and
without meaning, but descriptive of the qualities which
they conceived them to possess 5 and it was from them
that this art passed in an imperfect state to the Egyp¬
tians.”
But though the antiquity of the civilization of Egypt
cannot be disputed, there is little reason to believe that
the middle regions of Africa ever exhibited the human
character in a higher state of cultivation than it now
possesses there. In all ages its inhabitants were engaged ^
in the barbarous practice of selling each other intorefinfm
slavery to distant nations. No.remains of ancient mag-found i
nificence are to be found in their country, nor any in-Africa,
struments of art which mark the genius of an improved
people. Even the plough is still unknown, and the
ingenuity of man is only exerted to supply his most
simple wants.
A great part of the country of the Negroes receives Ancicn
among Europeans the name of Guinea, a term as oldnaHle■
as the time of Ptolemy, wdio applies it to the maritime
districts, though this name is said to be utterly unknown
to the natives of the country themselves, excepting
where they have learned it from European traders. It
would appear, however, to have originated from one
of the central states or empires of Africa, upon the
banks of the Niger, which though once possessed of
great power, has now fallen into decay, and is lost in
the empire of Tombuctoo, and some neighbouring
states.
The middle regions of Africa bring to maturity all Produci f
the tropical productions or fruits in their utmost perfec-^ ^ ”
tion and abundance. With the slightest cultivation, e re^
rice, maize, millet, sugar, cotton, indigo, &c. are
raised, along with some fruits peculiar to itself, among
which may be mentioned the shea-tree, from which the
vegetable butter is prepai’ed, which forms a principal
article of commerce in all the interior districts. The
shea-tree is said to resemble the American oak ; the
butter is prepared from the kernel of the fruit. This Vegeta
kernel resembles a Spanish olive, and is enclosed in
sweet pulp under a thin green rind. It is dried in the
sun, and then boiled in water. Travellers tell us that
the butter produced from it is white, firm, and better
flavoured than that of milk. If this account of it be
correct, which we have no reason to doubt, measures
ought certainly to be taken for conveying this tree to
the European settlements in the West Indies, and for
cultivating it there, as it w'ould undoubtedly be very
valuable when reared in the vicinity of the bread-fruit
tree, which has lately been brought from Otaheite.
Various
Africa.
fild ani-
lals.
uakes
ry de-
ruclive,
id of im-
ense size.
mense
riads of
iers.
ta]g.
‘ and
A F R
Various species of wild beasts inhabit this country,
'as lions, leopards, hyoenas, elephants, bulfaloes, wild
boars, rhinoceroses, Avith great variety of the species
of deer, and various kinds of monkeys. Innumerable
species of snakes are also to be found here ; one of
the most remarkable of which, called the smyacki, is
of a pale green colour with black spots, about a foot in
length, and as thick as a man’s finger. It possesses
the power of ejecting a subtile vapour into the eyes of
any animal that approaches within the distance of two
or three feet, so as to occasion extreme pain for several
days, and even incurable blindness. Another species
of snake, said to be found also in Ceylon, grows here
to the enormous size of 50 feet in length •, the colour
of the back is dark gray, with lines of a dusky yellow :
part of the belly is of a lighter colour and spotted : it
lurks, in moist situations, wreathed into curls, which
include a space of about five feet diameter, and give it
at a distance some resemblance to the mouth of a well.
Over these curls or rings it rears its head and part of
its body, and remains immoveable till some animal ap¬
proach within its reach, when it darts upon it j and, if
the animal is large, twists its body round it, and with
an immense force crushes all its bones j and having
lubricated it with saliva, swallows it entire. After
having devoured in this manner a large animal, the
snake remains as if lifeless for many days during the
process of digestion, and in this situation may be easily
destroyed. The cameleon is also found in this coun¬
try, along with an immense variety of reptiles. Of
these, ants are the most formidable and destructive
to man. They differ in size, from an inch in length
to a minuteness that is almost imperceptible to the na¬
ked eye. They sometimes burst from their nests in such
innumerable myriads as to destroy every thing on the
surface of the earth, and to oblige the-natives to desert
their habitations. They often extinguish fires by their
numbers, and form bridges of their own dead bodies
over shallow waters which impede their progress.—One
species forms swarms like bees, and erects round pyra¬
mids of clay which becomes extremely hard. These
pyramids are usually eight or ten feet high. Their in¬
terior consists of galleries suited to the size of the ani¬
mal, interwoven like a labyrinth, having a small open¬
ing as a door or entry to the dwelling.
Monstrous spiders also exist in this country, a single
thread of whose web, it is said, will support a weight of
several ounces.
The natives of this country have too little art or
industry to take much advantage of the metals with
which the earth is supposed in many places to abound.
In some situations, however, they produce iron of a
tolerable quality } but gold is the chief object of their
search. It does not appear, however, that they have
ever wrought the mines of it which they have disco¬
vered to any depth, and it is chiefly procured from the
sands of the rivers or of torrents after violent rains.
It is then collected in some districts in considerable
quantities, and forms an important article of commerce.
Women chiefly engage in this employment, and an
individual may collect in general during the dry sea¬
son, as much as is equal to the value of two slaves.
The gold obtained is either used in commerce or
wrought into ornaments for the women. The stand-
Vol. I. Part I. f
I C A. 26
ard of value is called menkalli, which is equal in value Africa,
to about 1 os. v v—
In general, however, it may be remarked, with re-Natural
gard to all the natural productions of this continent, productions
whether animal, vegetable, or mineral, that they still
remain in great obscurity, and present a vast field for
the investigation of the natural historian.
The general character of the Negroes, who are the Character
inhabitants of these fertile regions, is that of extreme the Ne-
levity. It is said, that they will dance for almost 24 Sroe®’
hours together ; and they do not suffer their gaiety to
be disturbed by events, which, in other countries, are
productive of much unhappiness. They do not ap¬
pear to want the feelings of humanity, nor are they
more destitute of sagacity than other men and women
of an equal degree of education ; but the general fer¬
tility of their country, which supplies them with food
in consequence of the exertion of a very slight degree
of industry, and the little occasion they have for cloth¬
ing amidst the heat of their climate, produces an in¬
dolent and general habit of seeking present pleasure,
and of banishing from their minds all care for the fu¬
ture.
The kind of government that exists among the Ne-Govern-
gro nations is by no means uniform. In many dis-ment-
tricts the country is governed by an immense multitude
of independent petty chiefs, who are engaged in fre¬
quent wars with each other. In other places the ta¬
lents of individual chieftains have been able to reduce
considerable tracts of territory under their dominion.
In such cases, in consequence of the internal tranquil¬
lity produced by the extension of the prince’s power,
flourishing towns have grown up. Thus upon the Ni¬
ger stands the town of Sego the capital of Bambara, Town of
which was visited by Mungo Park, and which lies in^^g0*
N. Lat. 140 io', and W. Long. 2° 26', containing
about 30,000 inhabitants. Two hundred miles below
this upon the same river stands Tombuctoo, the greatTombuc-
centre of the commerce of Fezzan, Cairo, and the100,
countries on the north of Africa, with the land of the
Negroes. Farther down the same river stands Houssa,Houssa.
which is understood to be a city of still greater extent.
Many of the Negro towns are fortified with ditches
and walls, built like the houses of the natives of clay
and stone. The trenches are sometimes flanked with
square towers like a regular fortification, and the walls
are very high.
Domestic slavery prevails in a very great degree siaTeiy.
among all the Negro states. As the tropical rains
sometimes fail or are deficient in quantity, the scorch¬
ing heat of the sun burns up the face of the country,
and produces a most frightful barrenness. On these
occasions it is not uncommon for parents to sell their
children, and even themselves, for bread. A freeman
may also lose his liberty by being taken prisoner in
war, or on account of the real or supposed crimes of
murder and sorcery. He also forfeits it in conse¬
quence of insolvency. From these causes domestic
slavery prevails to such a degree, that in many places
three-fourths of the natives are slaves. These slaves,
however, form in some measure a part of the commu¬
nity ; and, by the custom of the country, the master
cannot sell one who is horn his slave, without accusing
him of a crime, a circumstance, which, in consequence
L 1 of
266 A F R
Africa, of the slave trade, at times gives rise to much dissen-
' sion, and to wars which resemble, in some measure,
the sanguinary contests which existed in various coun¬
tries in Europe, during the feudal times, between the
villains and their lords. Thus, in 1785, a general in-
- surrection took place in many districts on the western
coast: the slaves attacked their masters, massacred
great numbers of them, set fire to the ripe rice, block¬
aded the towns, and obliged them to sue for peace.
Arts in a Few arts have been brought to much perfection by
rude state, the Negroes, because the division of labour has been
little known among them. The same individual spins,
weaves, sews, hunts, fishes5 forms baskets, fishing-tackle,
instruments of agriculture j makes soap, dyes cloth with
indigo, and makes canoes. In all these, the neatness
of the work excites the astonishment of strangers who
• know the diversity of occupations in which the same
individuals engage, and the imperfection of the tools
with which they labour. They are no strangers, how¬
ever, to that ordinary division of labour, to which na¬
ture herself seems to have given rise in consequence of
the distinction of the sexes. The women spin, and the
men weave the cotton cloth of which their dresses are
composed. The cotton is prepared for spinning by
W aun<- r°M*ng ** w‘^1 ao ^ro!1 spindle upon a smooth stone or
ea%,llb* goar(]. The thread is well twisted though coarse, but
the loom is so narrow that the web is only about four
Dyeing;. inches broad. The women dye this cloth with the leaves
of indigo, pounded fresh, qnd mixed with a strong
alkaline ley, formed by the lixiviation of wood ashes.
The colour thus produced is a rich and durable blue
with a purple gloss.
The workers in metals, and the manufacturers of
leather, appear to be almost the only instances of what
may he called a separate profession existing among the
ianning. Negroes. The manufacturers of leather separate the
hair by steeping the hides in a mixture of wood ashes
and water, and use the pounded leaves of a tree called
goo, as we do the oak bark, for the purpose of tanning.
They dye the skins of sheep and goats red with pow¬
dered millet stalks, and yellow with a root which
abounds in their country. The manufacturers of iron
smelt that metal in some of the interior districts $ but
it is generally hard and brittle. They form their
weapons and tools of it, however, with considerable
ingenuity. In smelting gold they use fixed alkaline
salt, obtained by washing with water the ashes of burn¬
ed corn stalks, and evaporating the ley to dryness. It
Cunpovv- must also be remarked, that, in the interior of the coun¬
ter. try, Mungo Park found a negro who manufactured
gunpowder Irom nitre collected from the reservoirs of
water frequented by the cattle, and sulphur supplied by
the Moors, who obtain it from the Mediterranean. He
pounded the ingredients in a wooden mortar, and gra¬
nulated it j but the grains were unequal, and the
strength of the gunpowder was very inferior to that of
Europe.
j he only necessary of life in which the country of
the Negroes appears to be extremely deficient is salt,
which is the more wanted among them in consequence
of their subsisting chiefly upon vegetable food. A
child cries for a piece of salt as for a great delicacy 5
and it is a proverbial expression of a man’s riches, to
say, that he eats salt to his food. This important ar¬
ticle they receive from the great desert by caravans of
I C A.
trading Moors. They also receive arms, hardware, Afr|(
glasses, and trinkets of all sorts, on the western coast
from the Europeans, and, in the interior, from the ca-Trade,
ravans of Cairn, Fezzin, and Morocco. For these
they give in return, gold, ivory and slaves. With
regard to the ivory, the Negroes cannot comprehend
for what reason it is so much valued by strangers.
It is in vain to tell them that ships are built, and long
voyages undertaken, to procure it to make handles for
knives. They are satisfied that a piece of wood might
serve the purpose as well, and imagine that it is ap¬
plied to some important use which is concealed from
the Negroes, lest they should raise the price of it. The
trade of the Negroes is conducted by barter j and to Rlediur
ad just the value of their different articles of commerce,comme
they appeal to a nominal standard, consisting of a cer¬
tain quantity of any commodity for which there is a
great demand. Thus on the Gambia, that quantity
of ivory or of gold-dust which is estimated as equal in
value to a bar of iron, is denominated a bar of ivory, or
a bar of gold-dust.
A marvellous story has, in all ages, been told of a Singula
strange mode of conducting commerce that exists mo(!eo
among certain African tribes who live in the wi ,degrading
mountainous districts : they are said to engage annual¬
ly in trade, but at the same time to seclude themselves
irom all personal intercourse with the traders who visit
them : They traffic chiefly in gold-dust, which they
bring to particular places, and there leave it upon the
approach of the traders, who deposit quantities of
goods which they are willing to give for the gold-dust,
and therealter retire. The natives then approach, and
carry off the goods, or the gold dust, according as they
think fit to accept or reject the bargain. From the
days of Herodotus down to our own times, this story
has been repeated by various writers, and in particular
by Wadstrom, upon the authority of the chevalier de
la Touch, vice-povernor of Goree, in 1788, who is
said to have visited the districts inhabited by these in¬
visible traders.
The knowledge of the Negroes with regard to allKnowIi
speculative subjects, is extremely limited. Their no-of tlie J
tions of geography and astronomy, like those of other
rude nations, are altogether puerile. They regard themited.
earth as a vast plain, the boundaries of which are
covered with clouds and darkness. . The sea is a great
river of salt water ; beyond which is the land of the
white people ; and at a still greater distance, is the
land to which the slaves are carried, which is inha¬
bited by giants, who are cannibals. Eclipses are
ascribed to enchantment, or to the interposition of a
great cat, which puts its paw between the moon and
the earth. They divide the year by moons, and cal¬
culate the years by the number of rainy seasons. TheyRel*§*0
seem to believe in one God, who has power over all op™00:
things j but their religious opinions are extremely un¬
defined, so that it is in vain to expect to find amogg
them any system of belief that rs either universally re¬
ceived, or even consistently adhered to by the same in¬
dividuals. They in general seem to think, that the
god of the blacks or Negroes is different from the god
ol the whites : When they are pleased with their own
condition and their country, they represent the black
deity as a good being, and the white deity as a kind of
devil, who sends the white people to make slaves of
th©
AFRICA.
Ions of
lire
' ere-
of
the Negroes : But when they are in ill humour, they
complain of their black deity as mischievous and cruel ;
while they say that the white deity gives his people
the Europeans brandy and tine clothes, and other good
things which are denied to the Negroes. Their no¬
tions of a future state are of the same fluctuating na¬
ture. They have a confused idea that the existence of
the human mind does not terminate with this life $
and they seem to venerate the spirits of the dead, re¬
garding them as protectors, and placing victuals at the
graves of their ancestors upon stated occasions. In
general, however, they regard‘'death with great hor¬
ror ; and in Whidah it was a law, that no person, on
pain of death, should mention it in presence of the
king. Some of them have a notion of a future state
as connected with rewards and punishments of their
conduct in this life. They imagine that the deceased
are conveyed to a mighty river in the interior regions
of Africa, where God judges of their past lives, and
particularly of the regularity with which they have ce¬
lebrated the new moons, which among the Negroes
are kept as festivals 5 and of the fidelity with which
they have adhered to their oaths. If the judgment is
in their favour, they are gently wafted over the great
river to a happy country, resembling in description the
paradise of Mahomet, where they enjoy plenty of all
those things which they were accustomed to value in
this world : But if the judgment is unfavourable, they
are plunged into the river, and never heard of more.
They also believe, like the vulgar of most other coun¬
tries, that the ghosts of persons who have been guilty
of great and unexpiated crimes, find no rest after
death, but haunt or wander about those places in which
their crimes were committed. The Asiatic doctrine of
the transmigration of the souls of men after death into
the bodies of other animals, is also entertained by some
of them.
The opinions of the Negroes concerning the creation
of man are not more fixed or definite than their ideas
of his future existence. In general, they ascribe his ori¬
ginal creation to the deity ; hut some of them pretend
that lie emerged, they know not how, from the caves
and holes of the earth, or was produced by a monstrous
spider. A curious fiction upon this subject is also said
to prevail in some of the Negro states :—That God ori¬
ginally created both black men and white men ; that
he meant to bestow one gift upon each of them, gold
or wisdom ; that he gave the black men (heir choice,
and that they preferred gold, and left wisdom or inge¬
nuity to the whites ; that God was offended with them
on account of this improper choice, and ordained them
to be slaves for ever to the white men.
They also believe in a divine providence, which sends
rain to give fertility to the earth and the trees, and to
wash down gold from the mountains. Accordingly,
they pray fervently to God to give them those things
upon which they set the greatest value, such as rice
and yams, and gold, and slaves, and health, and activi¬
ty. At the same time, from their inaccuracy of think¬
ing upon this subject, they readily say, when conversed
with, that it is not God but the earth that gives them
rice; that their cattle produce young without the as¬
sistance of God ; and that, if they did not labour for
themselves, they might starve before God would help
them.
267
From this loose and inaccurate mode of reasoning, Africa,
the religion of the Negroes sits very light upon them. v—--v~—
1 hey seem to have a sort of priests, who perform some
ceremonies at the new moons, and on certain occasions,
such as, at marriages, or on giving names to young
children ; but these priests having no settled system of
doctrine, and not being united into a disciplined body,
possess very little influence. Hence it is extremely
easy to induce the Negroes to adopt the religion of any
more intelligent people. Accordingly, the Moors have
made many converts among them; and some of the
most considerable Negro states upon the northern fron¬
tier, that is, upon the Senegal and the Niger, are Ma¬
hometan.
But though the Negroes have little speculative reli-Supcrsti-
gion, they have much superstition, as appears from the ^on-
great use which they make of what are called /ef/c/ze,?,
or charms termed obi by the Africans in our West-In-
dia islands. The fetiche consists of any natural object,
which chances to catch hold of the fancy of a Negro.
One selects the tooth of a dog, of a tiger, or of a cat,
or the hone of a bird; while another fixes on the head
of a goat, a monkey, or parrot, or even upon a piece
of red or yellow wood, or a thorn branch. The fetiche,
thus chosen, becomes to its owner a kind of divinity,
which he worships, and from which he expects assistance
on all occasions. In honour of his fetiche, it is com¬
mon for a Negro to deprive himself of some pleasure,
by abstaining from a particular kind of meat or drink.
Thus one man eats no goats flesh, another tastes no
beef, and a third no brandy or palm wine. By a con¬
tinual attention to his fetiche, a Negro so far imposes
upon himself, as to represent it to his imagination as
an intelligent being, or ruling power, inspecting bis ac¬
tions, rewarding bis virtues, and punishing bis crimes.
Hence he covers it up carefully whenever he performs
any action that he accounts improper. The importance
or value of a fetiche is always estimated according to
the success of its owner, and the remarkable prosperity
of an individual brings bis fetiche so much into fashion,
as to induce others to adopt it. On the contrary, when
a Negro suffers any great misfortunes, he infallibly at¬
tributes it to the weakness of his fetiche, which he relin¬
quishes, and adopts another that he hopes will prove more
powerful. A fortunate fetiche is usually adopted by
the whole family of its possessor, to which it becomes
an object of reverence, or a guardian like the household
gods, dii lares and penates, of the ancient Homans.
Sometimes a whole tribe or a large district lias its fe¬
tiche, which is regarded as a kind of palladium upon
which the safety of their country depends. Thus at
Acra the national fetiche was a lake, which the people
accounted sacred. This lake was converted into a
salt pit by the Portuguese, and the natives regarded
this profanation as the cause of the conquest of their
country by a neighbouring tribe called the Aquam-
boans. Thus also at Whidah, although the people be¬
lieve in one supreme god, they worship as their national
fetiche a kind of serpent of monstrous siie, which they
call the grandfather of the snakes. They say that it
formerly deserted some other country, on account of its
wickedness, and came to them, bringing good fortune
and prosperity along with it. From this account of the
fetiches of the Negroes, the intelligent reader will na¬
turally remark, that even idolatry itself remains in an
L 1 2 imperfect
268
AFRICA.
Africa.
Singular
custom*.
Secret so¬
cieties of
pie 11.
Of women.
imperfect state among the people ; and he tvill observe
the difference between the polished superstition of ancient
Greece and Rome, and the vulgar and unadorned cre¬
dulity of these rude and artless tribes. In the vicinity
of their settlements, the Moors have prevailed with the
illiterate Negroes, to adopt as fetiches or charms, cer¬
tain sentences of the Koran, which they write out and
sell to them, under the name of saphies. Mungo Park,
when travelling among them, sometimes sold saphies,
which usually consisted of the Lord’s prayer.
Among the Negroes some singular customs prevail,
which are not unworthy of notice, on account of their
having some similarity to certain practices that have
subsisted among other nations. Persons accused of any
crime, more especially of poisoning, are frequently re¬
quired to prove their innocence, by drinking what is
called the red water. This is a poisonous liquor form¬
ed from the roots of certain plants, and the barks of
trees, of a very narcotic quality. The accused is pla¬
ced on a high chair, and stript of bis clothes,, having
only a quantity of plantain leaves wrapt round his
waist. He then, in presence of the whole village, eats
a little rice, and drinks about an English gallon of the
red water, which is extremely apt to find the accused
person guilty. If he escape unhurt, however, and with¬
out vomiting, he is judged innocent. Much dancing
and singing takes place on account of his escape, and
he is allowed to demand that some punishment be in¬
flicted on his accusers on account of the defamation.
Among the superstitious customs of the Negroes, may
be mentioned the practice of circumcision, which is
universal among them. It is not regarded as a religious
rite, but as a kind of charm for preventing barrenness.
It is not performed till the age of puberty.
In several Negro states certain secret societies or fra¬
ternities exist, which possess great political influence,
and in some places absolute power. One of these so¬
cieties, called the society of the Belli, is appropriated to
men, to the exclusion of women. It supports itself by
the use of mystical symbols, a pretence to the knotv-
ledge of important secrets, and by subjection to an ima¬
ginary being, called the Belli, who is said to be capa¬
ble of changing his form at pleasure. This society mono¬
polizes all public offices, to the exclusion of the unini-
tkited. The young men are introduced into it by a
noviciate which lasts some years. A space is marked
out of eight or nine miles in circumference in a fertile
spot, in which huts are built, and provisions raised. The
young men resort thither, and are taught by instructors
pitched upon by the society, to fight, to fish, to hunt,
and to sing certain songs peculiar to the fraternity ; they
also receive new names as a mark ol their new birth,
and certain scars are imprinted on their bodies, with
heated instruments of iron, to point them out as be¬
longing to the fraternity. On returning home after
their initiation, they are received with great ceremony
by their relations, as persons now introduced into pub¬
lic life.
There is a kind of counterpart of this association,
though of less political importance, called the society
of the Nessoqe or Sandi, which is confined to females.
In a remote wood, which men are prohibited to ap¬
proach, a number of huts are constructed, and the
young marriageable girls are conducted thither during
the night. They remain in this solitude, under the
3
Africa.
care of certain matrons, during four months, and are
taught a variety of religious customs and superstitions.1
When their noviciate is expired, they return by night
to their villages, where they are received by all the
women both old and young quite naked, who parade
about with them, playing upon some rude musical in¬
struments till daybreak. If any man should approach
this procession, he would suffer death, or he compelled
to redeem himself by a very heavy fine.
There is a third kind of society, which is much more strange
universal than those now mentioned, and seems to exist mysteries,
in all the Negro states. This society does not appear
to have any special name, but it conducts the myste¬
ries of a strange imaginary being, called Mumbo Jum¬
bo. As the practice of polygamy exists very univer¬
sally among the Negroes, they often find great diffi¬
culty in preserving the peace of their families amidst
a variety of rival wives. When the husband finds his
authority altogether contemned, he lias recourse to the
assistance of Mumbo Jumbo. The dress of this strange
minister of justice usually hangs upon a tree in a fo¬
rest in the neighbourhood of every Negro village. It
is made of bark, and forms a figure of about eight or
nine feet high, with a tuft of straw on his head. When
Mumbo is about to appear, he announces his approach
in the evening by dismal screams from the adjacent
woods, and as soon as it is dark he enters the village,
and proceeds immediately to the public place, where
all the inhabitants both male and female are obliged
to assemble at bis call j for this phantom has absolute
power. Nobody must appear covered in its presence,
and every person is bound implicitly to execute its
commands. As the women know that the visit is in¬
tended against some of them, they can have no great
relish for the solemnity, but they dare not refuse to at¬
tend. The ceremony commences with songs and
dances. These continue till midnight, when Mum¬
bo Jumbo fixes upon the individual on whose account
he comes. She is immediately seized by his command,
stripped naked, tied to a post, and scourged with Mum-
bo’s rod, to the great entertainment of the whole as¬
sembly, and especially of the rest of the women, who
are always loudest in their derision and censure of the
culprit. The society that conducts the appearance of
this mysterious personage make use of a peculiar or
cant language, which is not understood by the unini¬
tiated. They pretend that Mumbo Jumbo is a wild
man, or some strange being that knows every body’s
thoughts. They bind themselves by oaths never to
reveal their secrets to a woman or boy. The frater¬
nity is so powerful, that when one of the Negro kings
was weak enough to reveal the secret of Mumbo Jum¬
bo’s character to a favourite wife, who communicated
it to the other females of the household, he and his
whole family were immediately assassinated, in the pre¬
sence, and by the command of Mumbo Jumbo ; and
nobody dared to dispute the propriety of their punish¬
ment.
Like all rude nations, the different tribes of Ne-Magic an
groes are implicit believers in witchcraft and magic,sower;'.
and in the existence of various kinds of sorcerers. These
sorcerers they regard with the utmost terror and ab¬
horrence. They believe that some of them have power
to contxoul the seasons, and to prevent the rice from ar¬
riving at maturity. Others of them are supposed to
suck
A F II
rid, suck tlie blood of men and beasts, and to occasion ail
v—r” kinds ol diseases. AVhen they suspect a person to have
died in consequence of sorcery, they interrogate the
corpse, which they believe gives answers in the affir¬
mative, by forcibly impelling forward the persons who
bear it, and in the negative by a rolling motion. If
an answer is given in the affirmative, they inquire con¬
cerning the murderer, beginning with the relations of
the deceased, and naming the suspected persons. When
the guilty person is named, they say that the corpse
impels the bearers forward 5 and upon the authority
of this evidence, the person accused is seized and sold
into slavery, and sometimes his whole family. It
is evident that a trial of this kind may be so managed,
as on all occasions to secure the condemnation of the
accused person. Accordingly, in proportion to the
demand for slaves, accusations of sorcery are more fre¬
quently brought forward against their subjects by the
Negro chiefs. These accusations, however, are some¬
times also brought against persons of importance, who
cannot be sold on account of their rank, or against
aged persons, whom nobody will purchase. In these
cases, the person convicted is compelled to dig his own
grave ; and being placed at the foot of it, one from
behind strikes him a violent blow upon the back of the
head or neck, which causes him to fall upon his face
into the grave. Some loose earth is then thrown upon
him j a stake of hard wood is driven through his body,
ami the grave is filled up.
;ious 01 these and all their other customs, the Negroes are
ir extremely tenacious j and this tenacity of their customs,
lls- down to the minutest trifles, forms the principal ob¬
stacle to their civilization or improvement. Thus it is
the custom to cut the rice six or eight inches below
the ear, by two or three stalks at a time, according
as they can be grasped between the thumb of the right
band and a knife, which is held in the same hand.
The stalks are leisurely transferred to the left hand,
and when it is almost full, they are tied like a nosegay
and put into a basket. A negro chief who had seen
the English mode of reaping, said, that it would cost
an African his life, should he attempt to introduce it
into his country, as he Avould he accused of intending,
to overturn the ancient customs, and would be com¬
pelled to drink the red water. By means of their cu¬
stoms, also, property is rendered less valuable than in
other countries, which operates as a discouragement to
1- industry. Their agriculture is carried on in concert
jftheby the inhabitants of every district, who share in com-
|a!‘‘ mon the products of their harvest. Hence the idea of
)n exclusive property is rendered very vague, while the
a[jt unlimited exercise of the law or custom of hospitality,
ted, renders the possession of it uncertain j as the industrious
are forced to share their wealth with the indolent.
Begging is not reckoned disgraceful } and if a person
rage«has negligent in providing the necessaries of life,
nee, he has only to discover where provisions are to be
found, and he must obtain a share ; for if he enter a
house during a repast, the master, by custom, cannot
avoid inviting him to partake. As domestic slavery,
however, and the traffic in slaves, constitutes a most
profitable branch of the African customs, it is not
wonderful that their chiefs adhere to them with pecu¬
liar obstinacy.
With regard to the private or domestic economy of
I C A. 269
the Negroes, it may be observed, that their houses Africa,
consist usually of a circular Avail, built of mud, or of ^ v~—
clay and stone, about four feet high, with a conical^ouses•
roof of bamboos, covered or thatched with hay. As
houses of this structure cannot well be divided into se¬
parate apartments $ Avhere there is a plurality of Avives,
each has a hut appropriated to herself, and the whole
huts belonging to a family are surrounded by a fence
or bamboos formed into a kind of wicker Avork. A
number of these enclosures, Avith intermediate passages
or streets, wnich have no regular arrangement, form a
town or village. I be furniture of their houses usually
consists of a bed, formed of a frame of canes, coA^ered
Avith a bullock’s skin or with a mat, and of one or
two Avooden stools, and a feAv Avooden dishes and pots
for dressing food. The dress of both sexes is formed Dress,
of cotton cloth ; that of the men usually consists of a
loose shirt or frock Avith Avide sleeves, together Avith
drawers or troAvsers, Avhich reach to the middle of the
leg. Some of the Negroes add to these a cap and san¬
dals. The- dress of the women consists of tAvo pieces
of cloth, each of which is about six feet long, and
three feet broad. The one is wrapt round the waist
and hangs down to the ankles, and the other is negli¬
gently throAvn over the shoulders.
The state of the women, as among other barbarous State of
nations, is by no means favourable. It is in general'vomen-
accounted altogether unnecessary for a lover to make
proposals to bis intended bride. She is considered as
the property of her father, from whom he purchases
her, and to Avhom he generally pays a price equal to
the value of about two slaves. When he has agreed
with the parents, therefore, AA’ith whom he eats a feAv
nuts to ratify the contract, the proposed bride must
give her consent, or remain for ever unmarried ; for if
she is given to another, the lover is entitled to seize her
lor a slave. On the day of marriage the bride is con - Marriages,
ducted with great ceremony to the house of the bride¬
groom, Avho must furnish abundance of liquor and re¬
freshments to her attendants. On approaching the
house, the bride is covered all over with a robe of
white cotton, and is carried on the back of a woman
to the house of her husband. She is then placed amidst
a circle of matrons, who give her many instructions
about her future life. The day is concluded Avith
dances, songs, and feasting, and the validity of the mar¬
riage is confirmed by exhibiting tokens of virginity
according to the Mosaic iaAV.
A man is allowed to have as many wives as he can Polygamy,
afford to purchase, and they are treated in a great
measure as slaves, being in general compelled to take
the Avhole charge of the agriculture abroad, as well
as of the preparation of food for the family at home.
When the husbands, however, are contented Avith one
or two Avives, instances of conjugal infidelity are un¬
common ; but Avhen they have a greater number, they
are often under the necessity of overlooking the ac¬
cidental gallantries of their wives, in consequence of
the impossibility of subjecting them to rigid confine¬
ment in the simple state of society in which they live.
The Negro Avomen suckle their children till they are
able to Avalk, and sometimes till they are three years
old, and during that period have no connection with
their husbands.
After this account of the Negroes in general, we
shall
270
Africa.
.Language
polished,
and exten¬
sively
known.
Industrious
as mer¬
chants,
and instrue
tors of
youth.
Courts of
j ustice.
A F - U
shall proceed to take notice of some of the more re¬
markable tribes into which they are divided, and with
which we have been made acquainted by the latest
travellers. Of these the tribe of Mandingnes is the most
important. They derive their name from a district in
the interior of Africa, called Mending. This territory
is situated in the most elevated northern tract of the
country of the Negroes, near the sources of the rivers
Senegal and Gambia, which flow into the Atlantic on
the west, and of the Niger, which proceeds towards
the east. Kamaliah, which is one of its towns, and was
visited by Mr Park, lies in 1 2° 46' N. Lat. Though
Manding is in so high a level, and abounds in gold, it
is not mountainous or barren. The tribe that has issued
from it, and assumes the name of Mandingoes, forms
by far the most numerous race of Negroes through the
whole western quarter of the continent of Africa.
Their territories intermingle in various situations with
the possessions of other states, and they even form the
bulk of the population where other tribes enjoy the
sovereign power. Their language is by far the most
universally understood of all the Negro tongues, and
it appears to be more polished than any other. The
Mandingoes are a tail slender race, of a cofour mode¬
rately black. Their eyes are remarkably small, and
they wear their beards. They are more industrious,
and engage more extensively in commerce than the
other Negroes, so that they are frequently employed as
agents in making bargains by persons of other tribes.
In the character of travelling merchants, and instruc¬
tors of youth, they have insinuated themselves into all
the Negro countries, where they are distinguished by
wearing more regularly than others a red or white cot¬
ton cap, and sandals. Some.of them who have learn¬
ed to read and write Arabic, and who profess Maho-
.metanism, erect schools in the Pagan villages, and in¬
struct the youth gratis. They assume a great appear¬
ance of sanctity, abstain from strong liquors, and pre¬
tend to the power of counteracting magic. Thus they
acquire a most extensive influence, and few affairs of
importance are transacted without their advice. In
almost every district, troops of Mandingo merchants
are to be met with ; and as their intellectual powers are
more developed than those of the other Negroes, they
have been able to extend their language, as a kind of
learned tongue, second only to the Arabic, along the
Senegal and the Niger.
In most of the Mandingo towns there are two pub¬
lic buildings ; a mosque for public prayers, and what
is called the bentang, which is a large stage formed of
interwoven bamboos erected under a spreading tree.
At the bentang all public affairs are transacted, and
idle persons assemble to smokp tobacco, and hear news.
In every village there is a magistrate, who preserves
public order, levies the duties on merchants, and pre¬
sides at the palavers or courts held by the old men,
where justice is administered. At these courts civil
questions between parties are debated. In the Pagan
states the decisions are pronounced according to the
customs of their fathers ; but where Mahometanism is
more generally received, which is usually the case a-
mong the Mandingoes, the Koran is the rule of judge¬
ment, or the Shai'ra, which contains a digest of Maho¬
metan laws both civil and criminal. Certain Maho¬
metan Negroes, who make the laws of the prophet
T C A.
their particular study, are frequently retained in causes,
as professional pleaders, and they are said to exhibit '——v-.
great dexterity in perplexing the judges.
The Pagan Mandingoes believe in one God, theRelirio!)
creator of all things ; but they consider him as of a ■“
nature too much exalted above human affairs, to give
much attention to their prayers. They address him,
however, at the new moons, and imagine every new
moon to be a new creation. They fancy that certain
subordinate spirits rule the world, and that these spirits
are influenced by enchantments and fetiches. They
believe in a future state, but most of them admit that
they know nothing about it. Their funerals consist of
a tumultuous procession, in which they make dismal
bowlings ; and after burying the body beside some large
tree, the solemnity terminates in a revel of drinking,
and at last of dancing and singing.
Next to the Mandingoes, the Fouluhs are the mostFoulalii.
numerous race of Negroes on the western quarter of
the continent of Africa. Their original country is
called Fo’jladoo. It is a small state, situated near the
sources of the Senegal and the Niger. From thence
they have emigrated in powerful clans, and have ac¬
quired extensive territories, especially along these ri¬
vers, and along the Gambia. The Foulahs also possess
the sovereignty of various insulated' tracts southwards,
towards Sierra Leona. Besides the fixed settlements in
which they enjoy the sovereignty, they have introdu¬
ced themselves in many places along the hanks of the
Gambia, and to the southward along what is called
the gulf of Guinea, to a great distance, into the greater
part of the Negro states, in the character of shepherds
and cultivators of the ground. They obtain admission
by paying a tax or rent to the chief of the territory
for whatever lands they occupy, and emigrate at plea¬
sure. In consequence of this mode of life, the sovereign¬
ty frequently fluctuates in the small states, between
them and the Mandingoes, and other tribes, according
to the proportion of the population, which often alters,
from the emigrations of the Foulahs.
The features of the Foulahs are very different from ]?eatureJ
those of the other Negroes. They have a Roman nose,
a thin face, and small features, with long glossy soft
hair, so as to resemble in a great degree the East In¬
dian lascars. Their complexion is by no means of
the permanent jetty colour of the other Negroes, but
varies with the districts they inhabit, approaching to
yellow in the vicinity of the Moors, and deepening
into a moderate black towards the equator. Their
stature is of the middle size, their form graceful, and
their air insinuating. Their women are well shaped,
and have regular features 5 but neither men nor women
are so robust in their make as the other Negroes.
Hence, they are accounted by the Negroes an inter¬
mediate race between themselves and the Moors ; but
the Foulahs consider themselves as superior to the Ne¬
groes, and class themselves among white nations. Their
natural disposition is mild and humane, and they areCharactcrj
extremely hospitable where the Mahometan religion
has not taught them to treat infidels with reserve.
They support with great care the aged and infirm of
their own tribe, and frequently relieve the necessities
of persons of other tribes. There are few instances of
one 1 oulali being insulted by another, and they never
sell their countrymen for slaves $ on the contrary, if a
Foulah
A F R
ca. Foul all Imve die misfortune to be enslaved, his whole
—Jckn or village contributes to pay his ransom.
a. 'I he I'oulahs engage more extensively than the other
Negroes in the raising of corn, and the breeding of cat¬
tle, but especially in the latter occupation. Hence the
Mandingoes frequently entrust their cattle to the care
of the Foulahs. They render them tractable by fami¬
liarity ; feed them by day in the woods and open mea¬
dows, and secure them by night in folds, which they
fence very strongly. Not satisfied with this precaution,
the herdsmen, whose huts are erected in the middle of
the fold, keep fires during the night burning around
the folds, for the protection of the cattle against wild
beasts, and to show that they are in a state of prepara¬
tion against robbers. From tbe necessity of guarding
their cattle they become intrepid hunters, and kill
lions, tigers, elephants, and other wild beasts, with poi¬
soned arrows, or with muskets which they purchase from
tbe whites upon the coast. To poison their arrows,
they bod the leaves of a particular shrub in water, and
dip in the black juice a cotton thread, which they fa¬
sten round the barbs of the arrow.
From the milk of their cattle the Foulahs make
considerable quantities of butter ; but like all the Ne¬
gro nations, they are entirely ignorant of tbe art of
preserving milk by making it into cheese. This art
is probably prevented from being introduced by tbe
heat ol the climate, and by the extreme scarcity of
salt, which can be obtained in no other way but by
purchasing it from the sea coast, or from caravans of
trading Arabs, who bring it on tbe backs of camels
from the great desert. They entertain a singular su¬
perstition, that to boil the milk of a cow prevents her
from having any more. Hence, they will sell no milk
to anv person whom they have once discovered to have
boiled it.
Like the other Negro tribes, tbe Foulahs are ex¬
cessively fond of dancing. They have also a strong
passion for music, and their chiefs account a practical
skill in it a most respectable accomplishment. Their
national airs have a peculiar character, and are tender
and pleasing.
Though the Foulahs do not enslave each other, they
do not hesitate to make war upon the neighbouring
tribes for the purpose of obtaining slaves, chiefly with
a view of selling them to the Europeans upon the coast
for fire-arms and gunpowder. Such at least is the ac¬
count of the matter, which was obtained in 1794 by
Messrs Watt and Winterhurn, who visited Foota-jal-
lo, an extensive Foulah kingdom in the interior of
Sierra Leona. This kingdom extends about 300
miles from east (o west, and 200 from north to south.
Temboo, the capital, contains 7000 inhabitants. The
power of their king is in a great measure arbitrary.
On an emergency, he can bring to the field 16,000
cavalry. The markets and all kinds of trade are re¬
gulated by him and his officers. The soil is in many
places extremely fertile, producing rice and maize,
which a.e cultivated by the women, and carried to
market by the men. In general, however, the ground
is dry and stony, but affords pasture for all kinds of
cattle. Their women dig a species of iron stone from
mines of considerable depth. The ore is afterwards
manufactured into a very malleable metal. In this
kingdom of Foota-jallo there are schools in every
2
I C A. 271
town ; and the majority of the people can read. The Africa.
Mahometan religion is professed, but the mild charac- v—
ter of the I oulalis prevents it from exhibiting that as¬
pect of intolerance towards strangers which characterizes
tile professors of this religion in other countries.
On the western coast, a great part of the district
tween the rivers Senegal and Gambia, or, as it is often
called, Senegambia, is inhabited by a nation called the
Jaloffb, which differs considerably from the other
tubes oi the Negroes. I heir stature is tall and ro¬
bust, and, though their complexion is of the deepest
black, their noses are not so much depressed, nor their
lips so protuberant, as tiiose of the Mandingoes. They
excel their neighbours in the manufacture and dyeing
ot cotton cloth, which they form of a finer thread anil
a broader web. They use their toes with the same
dexterity as their fingers in many operations. Hence
when they perceive a pair of scissars, a knife, or a toy
which they covet, they turn their hacks upon it, and,
having engaged the owner in conversation, they seize
it artfully witli their toes, and throw it into a pouch
which they wear behind. In this way, strangers tra¬
ding in their towns are amazed to find their goods va¬
nishing before their eyes, while they cannot perceive
the thief. The Jaloffs are very warlike, and equal the
Moors in the management of horses ; hut, as they are
divided into a number of petty states, which are conti¬
nually engaged in war with each other, they have little
power as a nation. In the succession to their leaders
or chiefs, they follow the female line as the surest; and
therefore, the eldest son of the eldest sister of the chief
is preferred.
On the coast to the south of the river Gambia, there Feloops,
exists a rude but industrious tribe, called the Feloops,
who have little intercourse with their neighbours.
1 hey possess considerable energy of character, and
have resisted successfully the attacks of the Mandingoes,
even when assisted by the Portuguese. They are very
faithful in friendship, and their enmity is equally per¬
manent, as they transmit their family fends from gene¬
ration to generation. When a man is killed in a quar¬
rel, his eldest son procures his sandals, which he wears
on the anniversary of the murder of his father, till he
can revenge his death. In those parts of their country
in which the Europeans have committed any ravages,
they give no quarter to a white man. They sell to
the Europeans, however, rice, goats, poultry, wax, and
honey.
Besides these, a variety of tribes inhabit the same
coast, and are known to Europeans under the appella¬
tion of Nalhes, Biafaras, Bissagoes, Balantes, Pap els,
and Banyans, of whom it is unnecessary to take parti¬
cular notice, as they appear to be distinguished by "ho
peculiarity from the other Negro tribes.
Proceeding eastward in the country between the Bambouk.
Senegal and the Gambia is Bambouk, a region of con¬
siderable extent. The natives were originally termed
Malinkups; but, by intermingling with the Mandin¬
goes, they have gradually so much assimilated to that
people, as to Jose the character of a distinct tribe.
The country is mountainous, but is unwholesome and
full of minerals. It abounds in mines of gold, silver, Mines of
copper, tin, and iron, but is neither well suited forS0^,
agriculture nor for pasturage. The working of tbe
mines is regulated by the caprice or the wants of the
chiefs
2^2 A F R
Africa, chiefs of the different districts. The miners are indo-
lent and unskilful : They never penetrate beyond IO
feet in depth, though the quantity of gold increases
with the depth of the mine. They regard gold as a
capricious and malevolent being, who delights in delu¬
ding the miners j on which account they never attempt
to recover a vein when it disappears. The govern¬
ment of Bamhouk fluctuates, like that of many of the
Negro states, between monarchy and asistocracy, and
the power of the king or supreme chief is extremely
limited.
The frontiers of the Negro kingdoms usually consist
of a w'ild or desert tract. Thus the kingdom of
Woolli, which is on the north-west of Bambouk, is se¬
parated on its eastern boundary, by a wilderness filled
with wild beasts, from the kingdom of Bondou, which
lies to the north of Bambouk. Fattecondi is the capi¬
tal of Bondou, at which the king resides. The king-
caused Major Houghton, an English traveller employ¬
ed by the African Association, to be plundered ; and he
begged from Mr Mungo Park his blue coat, which
that traveller was under the necessity of giving him,
to avoid bad usage. His revenues, however, are con¬
siderable. His authority is firmly established, and his
power is formidable to bis neighbours. He was so
well pleased with obtaining Mr Park’s blue coat,
adorned as it was with yellow buttons, that, on the
following day he presented to him somewhat more than
half an ounce of gold, exempted his baggage from ex¬
amination by the tax-gatherers, and allowed him to pay
a visit to the women of his seraglio. The country at
large is covered with wood, and, as it is in an elevated
situation, and consequently somewhat less exposed than
elsewhere to the burning heat of the climate, it is
abundantly fertile. The frontier town of the kingdom
eastward is called Joag. It contains 2000 inhabitants,
is surrounded by a high w'ail with holes for muskets,
and is in 14* 25' N. Lat. and 90 12' W. Long.
To the north-east of Bondou is the Mandingo
kingdom of Kasson, in which this peculiar custom or
superstition prevails, that no woman is allowed to eat
an egg. Kooniakary, the capital, lies in N. Lat. 140
31', about 59-J geographical miles to the east of
Joag. To the south-east of Kasson is the kingdom of
Kaarta, which is bordered on the east by Bambara,
between which and Kaarta there are very frequent
wars 5 a circumstance which renders travelling through
these and other Negro states not a little difficult. The
people are industrious : The cultivation of corn is car¬
ried on to a great extent, especially in Bambara. They
are Mahometans, without the intolerant fanaticism of
that religion 5 and accordingly they are hospitable to
strangers, though of a different faith. The neigh¬
bourhood of the Moors, however, renders the country
unsafe ; and, to guard against their incursions, the Ne¬
groes, when employed in agriculture, are under the ne¬
cessity of carrying their arms to the field.
Sego, the capital of Bambara, lies in N. Lat. 140 io',
® ' ami W. Long. 2° 26'j and contains about 30,000 inha¬
bitants. It was here that Mungo Park at last beheld
the long-sought majestic river Niger glittering to the
morning sun, as broad as the Thames at Westminster,
and flowing slowly from west to east. The river is
here called the Joliba by the natives. From the times
of the Nasamonian explorers prior to the days of He-
I C A.
rodotus, during 2300 years, no certain intelligence
concerning this river had been obtained by the Euro¬
pean nations, and its very existence had been doubted
by the most intelligent writers. Mr Park is the only
European traveller who since that period can boast of
having reached it. Sego consists of four distinct towns j
two of which are on the north and two on the southern
part of the Niger. They are surrounded by high mud
walls. The houses are of a square form ; they are built
of clay, and have flat roofs. The streets are narrow ; and,
as the Moors form a considerable proportion of the in¬
habitants, their mosques appear in every quarter. The
language, however, is a dialect of the Mandingo. The
authority of the Negro king of Bambara is not a little
restrained here by the influence of the Moors ; and, to
avoid giving offence to their intolerant spirit, he was
under the necessity of sending Mr Park immediately
out of the city to a village in the neighbourhood.
The weather was stormy, hut some negro women con¬
ducted him into a hut, gave him food, and thereafter
began to their accustomed labour of spinning cotton.
During their work they amused themselves with a
song, composed upon the occasion, which one of them
sung to a plaintive air. The translation of the song
is in these terms : “ The wind roared and the rains
fell ; the poor white man, faint and weary, came and sat
under our tree. He has no mother to bring him milk,
no wife to grind his corn. Chorus. Let us pity the
white man, no mother has he,” &c.
The current money of this place consists of cowries,
a kind of shells {cyprcea moneta Lin.') which are also em¬
ployed in the same way in Bengal. A man and his horse
can subsist during 24 hours upon the provisions that
100 of them will purchase. The king of Bambara
presented Mr Park with 5000 cowries, and desired him
to leave the neighbourhood of his capital, that he
might not be destroyed by the Moors. This traveller
persevered in advancing eastward down the river to
another town called Silla, situated in N. Lat. 140 48',
and W. Long. x° 24', about 1090 British miles east of
Cape Verd. This formed the utmost limit to which
he was able to advance, and therefore remains the
boundary of our certain knowledge of the countries in
that direction. He learned, however, that Silla stands
within 200 miles of the city of Tombuctoo, which is
upon the same river, and had long been an object of
search of the Portuguese, the French, and English.
He was informed, that the country is very populous in
that direction. He was also told, that about two days
journey below Silla, where he stopped, there is a larger
town than Sego, called Jenne, which stands on a small
island in the Niger ; and that two days journey below
Jenne, the river expands into a large lake called Dib¬
ble, from which the water issues in two large branches,
insulating a fertile and swampy country called Gin-
bala} and that the two great branches of the river re¬
unite at Kabra, which is one day’s journey to the
south of the city of Tombuctoo, of which it is the port.
The government of Tombuctoo is said to be in the
hands of the Moors j and that place is the principal
emporium of the Moorish commerce in Africa. Be¬
low Tombuctoo, to the eastward, in the Negro city of
Houssa, the capital of a great kingdom, and possessed
of extensive commerce. The Niger passes to the south
of Houssa at the distance of two days journey j but Mr
Park
Silla.
(J
Lfrica.
dan and
-ritia.
Park could learn nothing further concerning its course,
as the traders who arrive at Tombuctoo and Houssa
from the coast can say nothing more of it, than that
it runs towards the rising,of the sun to the end of the
world. Any farther intelligence that has hitherto been
obtained, concerning Soudan or Nigritia to the east¬
ward ol the route of Mr Park, is extremely uncertain,
being merely the result of inquiries made by Mr .Hor-
neman among the merchants of Fezzan during his re¬
sidence there. In the present imperfect state of our
knowledge, however, this information is entitled to
attention. He observes, that “ the Houssa are certain¬
ly Negroes, but not quite black j they are the most
intelligent people in the interior of Africa •, they are
distinguished from their neighbours by an interesting
AFRICA.
countenance ; their nose is small and not flattened j and
their features are not so disagreeable as those of the Ne¬
groes, and they have an extraordinary inclination for
pleasure, dancing, and singing. Their character is be¬
nevolent and mild. Industry and art, and the culti¬
vation of the natural productions of the land, prevail
in their country ; and in this respect they excel the
Fezzanians, who get the greatest part of their clothes
and household implements from the Soudanians. They
can dye in this country any colours but scarlet. The
culture ol their land is as perfect as that of the Euro¬
peans, although the same manner of doing it is very
troublesome. In short, says Mr Horneman, we have
very unjust ideas ol this people, not only with respect
to their cultivation and natural abilities, but also of
their strength and the extent of their possessions, which
are by no means so inconsiderable as thev have been
lepresented. I heir music is imperfect, compared to
the European j but the Houssanian women have skill
enough to affect their husbands thereby even to weep¬
ing,. and to inflame their courage to the greatest fury
against their enemies. The public singers are called
Kadanka.','>
The same traveller informs us, that to the eastward
of FLoussa are situated the dominions of the sultan of
Bornou. The people are blacker than the Houssanians,
and completely Negroes. They are strong, patient of
labour, and phlegmatic. Their food is a paste made
ot flour and flesh, and their liquor is an intoxicating
but nourishing kind of beer. Their best natural pro¬
duction is copper. The low country of Wangara is said
to be subject to Bornou. It is periodically overflowed
by the Niger ; but the course of that river farther east¬
ward is not known. Mr Horneman was informed that
it had at least a periodical communication with the long¬
er branch of the Nile, called the Bahr Abiad or White
river, which rises in the mountains A1 Komeri, or moun¬
tains of the Moon, about the seventh degree of N. Lat.
To the eastward of Wangara, at the distance of about
six degrees of longitude, is the countryof Darfoor already
mentioned ; beyond which lies Kordafan, another bar¬
barous state ; and still farther to the eastward is the
country of Abyssinia, in which the shorter branch of
the Nile, the Bahr Axrac or Blue river, takes its rise,
which was visited and traced to its source by our coun¬
tryman Mr Bruce. That traveller considered the Bahr
Azrac as the Nile, whereas in truth it is only one of
its tributary streams.
. ^le belt or stripe of territory of which we have
hitherto taken notice is situated between the 10th and
Vol. I. Part I. f
17th degrees. of N. Lat. To the southward of this
line the interior of Africa is still unknown, as it has
hitherto been visited by no European traveller. We
only know that it contains various nations or tribes of
Negroes, of different characters and degrees of civiliza¬
tion. It may be observed, however, that to the south
of Tombuctoo and Houssa lies the kingdom of Gago, Gago-
near a ridge of mountains which run from west to east,
and give rise to many streams that flow northward into
the Niger. It produces much gold, and the people are
warlike. Their armies are composed of cavalry 5 and
no warrior is permitted to take an enemy prisoner before
he has. obtained, by the mutilation of persons whom he
has slain, an hundred bloody trophies, similar to those
which, in the Jewish history, David is said to have won
from the Philistines and presented to King Saul as the
price of his daughter Michal (1 Samuel xviii. 25.) In
Gago, when the general takes the field he spreads a buf¬
falo’s hide upon the ground ; and pitching a spear at each
side, he causes the soldiers to march over it till a hole
be worn through the hide, when the army is under¬
stood to be sufficiently numerous. The king is absolute ;
but, when they are offended with his conduct, his sub¬
jects sometimes rebel and send him a present of parrots
eggs, with a message, importing that “ his subjects,
considering that he must be fatigued with the trouble
of government, are of opinion that it is time for him
to indulge in a little sleep.” If the rebellion appear
too formidable to be resisted, his majesty takes the
hint, and desires his women to strangle him 5 upon
which he is immediately succeeded by his son.
To the south of Gago, and near to the gulf of Guinea, Dahomy.
is the kingdom of Dahomy. The capital, called Abo-
my,.stands in N. Lat. 70 57'. The country is fertile and
cultivated, bearing every kind of grain, as well as indigo,
cotton, and sugar. The character of the people°is
strongly marked, and some of their customs are singular.
In their wars they are bold, and even ferocious ; but to¬
wards strangers they are hospitable, without any mixture
of rudeness. Their king possesses absolute power in
the most complete sense of the word. All children,
whether male or female, are considered as his property.
They are early separated from their parents, and receive
a sort of public education, with a view to destroy from
their minds all family connections. The king’s dwell-
ing occupies a space about a mile square. It con¬
sists of a multitude of huts formed of mud walls with
bamboo roofs; and the whole is enclosed by a mud wall
of 20 feet in height. The entrance of the king’s apart¬
ment is paved with human skulls, and the side walls are
ornamented with the jaw bones of men. On the thatch¬
ed roofs numerous human skulls are ranged on wooden
stakes; and he declares war by announcing that his house
wants thatch. He has commonly about 3000 females
immured in this dwelling; and about 500 are appropriat¬
ed to each of the principal officers. When a man wants
a wife he must purchase her from the king or some of
these officers. He must first lay down the price, which
is 20,000 cowries ; and must then be contented with the
wife that is allotted to him. At his succession the king
proclaims that he knows nobody, and is not inclined
to make any new acquaintance ; that he will administer
justice rigorously and impartially, but will listen to no
representations against his will ; and that he will receive
no presents except from his officers, who approach him
M m with
274 A F R
Africa. With the most abject submission. His whole subjects
V—"’ acknowledge themselves his slaves, and admit his right
to the absolute disposal of their property and persons.
Their character is nevertheless active and intrepid ; and
they sacrifice themselves in war without hesitation, in
obedience to his commands. Thus the Dahomans ap¬
pear to form a sort of exception to the general mildness
of the Negro character.
In addition to what has been here stated concerning
the black inhabitants of the southern regions of Africa,
it may be remarked, that a French traveller, Vaillant,
proceeding northward from the Cape of Good Hope,
has made repeated efforts to investigate the character
and state of the natives in that quarter. He has ex¬
tended his researches into what is called the country of
the Caffres, far beyond the limits that had been reach¬
ed by any other traveller, and has given us the names
of various African tribes, under the appellation of Gues-
siquus, Nfmiquas, Koraquas, Kahobiquas, and Hoiezou-
anas. These tribes differ considerably in their features
and make of body from the general Negro race, which
we have already described. In their moral and intel¬
lectual character, however, they are not a little inferi¬
or : Their wants are extremely few, and are supplied
by their flocks and herds without the necessity of agri¬
culture 5 and their lives pass away in a routine of list¬
less inactivity, or of simple and uninteresting occu¬
pations, the detail of which would afford little amuse¬
ment or instruction.
European We have already mentioned, that the European na-
establisli- tions, during these three last centuries, have establish¬
ments. _ e(j sma|i settlements or garrisons upon different parts
of the Negro coast, chiefly for the purpose of obtaining
slaves by trading with the natives. The number of
people that are annually exported from that country, in
consequence of this trade, by Europeans or Moors, is
very great. The Europeans have frequently carried
Slave from the west coast above ioo,oco slaves a year ; and
fct'a(ie* the caravans of Egypt and Fezzan carry off about
20,000 annually. The very great extent to which
this traffic is carried on the western coast undoubtedly
gives rise to many abuses among the native states in
that neighbourhood, and is productive of frequent wars
among them. Unfortunately, the nations of Europe
have hitherto made few efforts to compensate these
evils by any attempts to introduce their arts, their ci¬
vilization, or their science, among the natives. Till
lately, the Portuguese were the only nation that at¬
tempted the improvement of the Negroes. They did
not confine themselves to garrisons or trading factories,
but formed considerable colonies on the coasts. They
attempted to instruct the natives in the belter cultiva¬
tion of their soil ; and introduced their own religion
among them. It is even said, that in Loango, Congo,
Angola, and Benguela, they have been so sedulous in
the conversion of the Negroes, that they have made
them better Christians than themselves. It is worthy
of notice, as a fact of some importance in natural hi¬
story, that such of the descendants of the Portuguese
in these climates as have adopted the manners of the
Negroes, and their modes of life, are hardly to be di¬
stinguished in colour from the daikest Negroes. From
the weakness of the parent state, the Portuguese set¬
tlements, in many places, are greatly decayed ; and
their efforts for the civilization of the natives have
I C A.
not been sufficiently extensive or persevering : still, AfrjM
however, they are said to cairy on the slave-trade with v—I
more mildness and humanity than other nations. The
slaves are catechised and baptized before they are ship¬
ped ; which tends to diminish the terrors attending
transportation. The slave-ships of the Portuguese are
never crowded, and they are chiefly navigated by black
mariners.
In 1779, a Swedish society formed the project of
settling a European colony on the western coast of
Africa, with the view of disseminating the general
principles of civilization. This project was, at a later
period, eagerly pressed by Charles Berns Wadstrom,
a native of that country, but without success. After¬
wards the Danes established a small colony with the
same view, near the mouth of the river Volta, under
the superintendence of Doctor Isert. In the mean
time, the university of Cambridge in England, in 1785,
proposed, as the subject of a prize-essay, a question con¬
cerning the lawfulness of the slavery and commerce
of the h uman species. The prize was won by Mr
J. Clarkson ; and the question began to attract public
notice: Vast numbers of pamphlets were written j and
in a few years the whole nation interested itself in the
subject, and the slave-trade became an object of popular
indignation. Some legislative attempts were made to¬
wards its abolition, which were probably frustrated
by the convulsive state into which Europe was plunged
by the French revolution. In the mean time, as early
as 1783, Doctor H. Smeathman had proposed a spe¬
cific plan for the colonization of Africa. This plan
was not immediately attended to j but in the year
1787, after the subject had assumed a greater degree
of importance, an attempt was made to carry it into
execution, by sending about four hundred bla< ks and
sixty whites, chiefly people of abandoned characteis, col¬
lected about London, to Sierra Leona. In conse¬
quence of the kind of persons chosen as colonists, this
first attempt did not succeed. But in July 1791, a Sierra
number of persons who had contributed money for the Leona,
purpose of making a settlement with a view to the in-'
struction and civilization of the Africans, were incor¬
porated by act 4)f parliament under the name of the
Sierra Leona Company. At the termination of the
American war, many black loyalists had been conveyr-
ed to Nova Scotia, which they disliked, in consequence
of the sterility of the lands allotted to them, and the
severity of the climate. The new Sierra Leona Com¬
pany made proposals to these blacks to form a settle¬
ment upon-the coast of Africa, to which they were to
be conveyed at the expence of the Company. The
proposal was accepted by 1200 blacks, who arrived at
Sierra Leona in March 1792. After experiencing
considerable difficulties, the colony began to enjoy to¬
lerable prosperity, and riceived ambassadors from the
neighbouring Negro states ; but on the 28th Septem¬
ber 1794 a French squadron suddenly plundered and
destroyed the colonial town. This squadron had been
fitted out for the purpose of disturbing the trade of the
English slave-factories on the coast, and is said to have
been instigated by an American slave captain, who
had taken some offence at the governor, to make the
attack now mentioned. 1 he damage was repaired.
1 he settlement has since been visited by various mis¬
sionaries from different religious sects in Britain, with
ths
A F R
Vica. the view of extending the Christian religion. The co-
v—lony, however, still languishes. It has been engaged in
some unfortunate contests with the natives ; and it has
lately been found necessary to assist the Company with
the public money. It seems doubtful how far it is
likely ever to fulfil the purpose for which it was insti¬
tuted, chiefly in consequence of the difficulty of main-
I C A.
taining a very steady intercourse with the country
which founded it, and from the unfavourable nature of
the climate to the health ol the natives of Europe.
See an account of the latest discoveries in Africa,
and a view of the principal questions connected with the
geography of that region, under the article Africa in
the Supplement.
275
Africa.
A G A
man AFRICAN Company. See Company in this work,
jj and African Company in the Supplement.
African Association. See Association.
v African Institution. See Supplement.
AFRICANUS, Julius, an excellent historian of the
third century, the author of a chronicle which was
greatly esteemed, and in which he reckons 5500 years
from the creation of the world to Julius Csesar. This
work, of which we have now no more than what is to
be found in Eusebius, ended at the 221st year of the
vulgar sera. Africanus also wrote a letter to Origen
on the history of Susanna, which he reckoned suppo¬
sititious : and we have still a letter of his to Aristides,
in which he reconciles the seeming contradictions in
the two genealogies of Christ recorded by St Matthew
and St Luke.
AFSLAGERS, persons appointed by the burgo¬
masters of Amsterdam to preside over the public sales
made in that city. They must always have a clerk of
the secretary’s office with them, to take an account of
the sale. They correspond to our brokers, or auc¬
tioneers.
AFT, in the sea language, the same with Abaft.
AT 1 ERBIRTH, in Midwifery, signifies the mem¬
branes which surround the infant in the womb, gene¬
rally called the secundines. See Midwifery.
AFTERMATH, in Husbandry, signifies the grass
which springs or grows up after mowing.
AFTERNOON, the latter half of the artificial day,
or that space between noon and night.
AI I ER-PAINS, in Midwifery, excessive pains felt
in the groin, loins, &c. after the woman is delivered.
AFTER-SWARMS, in the management of bees,
are those which leave the hive some time after the first-
has swarmed. See Bfe.
AFWES PAD, a large copper-work belonging to
the crown of Sweden, which lies on the Dala, in the
province of Dalecarlia, in Sweden. It looks like a
town, and has its own church. Here they make cop¬
per plates ; and have a mint for small silver coin, as
well as a royal post-house. E. Long. 14. 10. N. Lat.
58. 10.
AGA, in the Turkish language, signifies a great lord
or commander. Hence the aga of the janizaries is the
commander in chief of that corps j as the general of
horse is denominated spachiclar aga. The aga of
janizaries is an officer of great importance. He is
the only person who is allowed to appear before the
Grand Signior without his arms across his breast in the
posture of a slave. Eunuchs at Constantinople are in
possession of most of the principal posts of the sera¬
glio: The title aga is given to them all, whether in
employment or out. This title is also given to all
AGA
rich men without employ, and especially to wealthy
landholders.
We find also agas in other countries. The chief offi¬
cers under the khan of Tartary are called by this name.
And among the Algerines, we read of chosen from
among the boluk bashis (the first rank of military offi¬
cers), and sent to govern in the chief towns and garri¬
sons of that state. The aga of Algiers is the president
of the divan, or senate. For some years, the aga was
the supreme officer; and governed the state in place of
the bashaw, whose power dwindled to a shadow. But
the soldiery rising against the boluk bashis, or agas,
massacred most of them, and transferred the sovereign
powei; to the caliph, with the title of Dey or King.
AGADES, a kingdom and city of Negroland in
Africa. It lies nearly under the tropic of Cancer, be¬
tween Gubur and Cano. The town stands on a river
that falls into the Niger ; it is walled, and the king’s
palace is in the midst of it. 1 he king has a retinue,
who serve as a guard. The inhabitants are not so black
as other Negroes, and consist of merchants and artificers.
T hose that inhabit the fields are shepherds or herdsmen,
whose cottages are made of boughs, and are carried
about from place to place on the backs of oxen. They
are fixed on the spot of ground where they intend to
feed their cattle. The houses in the city are stately,
and built after the Barbary fashion. This kingdom
was, and may he still, tributary to the king of Tom-
buctoo. It is well watered ; and there is great plenty
of grass, cattle, senna, and manna. The prevailing re¬
ligion is the Mahometan, but it is not rigidly practised.
N. Lat. 26. 10. E. Long. 9. 10.
AGALLOCHUM, a,very fragrant medLinal wood
brought from the East Indies. See Exclecaria, Bo¬
tany Index.
AGALMATA, in antiquity, a term originally used
to signify any kind of ornaments in a temple ; but af¬
terwards for the statues only, which were most con¬
spicuous.
AGAMEMNON, the son of Atreus by Erope, was
captain general of the Trojan expedition. It was fore¬
told to him by Cassandra, that his wife Clytemnestra
would be his death: yet he returned to her; and ac¬
cordingly was slain by iEgisthus, who had gained up¬
on his wife in his absence, and by her means got the
government into his own hands.
A G AN, in Geography, one of the Ladrone islands.
The circumnavigator, Magellan, was assassinated here
in the year 1525.
AGANIPPE, in antiquity, a fountain of Boeotia,
at Mount Helicon, on the borders between Phocis and
Boeotia, sacred to the Muses, and running into the river
Permessus ; (Pliny, Pausanias.) Ovid seems to make
M m 2 Aganippt
Aganippe
' II
Asard.
A G A [ 276 ] A G A
Aganippe and Hippocrene the same. Serenus more
truly distinguishes them, and ascribes the blending them
to poetical license.
AGANIPPIDES, in ancient poetry, a designation
given to the Muses, from a fountain of Mount Helicon,
called Aganippe.
AGAPE, in ecclesiastical history, the love-feast, or
feast of charity, in use among the primitive Christians 5
when a liberal contribution was made by the rich to
feed the poor. The word is Greek, and signifies love.
St Chrysostom gives the following account of this feast,
which he derives from the apostolical practice. Pie
says, “ The first Christians had all things in common,
as we read in the Acts of the Apostles 5 but when that
equality of possessions ceased, as it did even in the A-
postles time, the agape, or love-feast, was substituted
in the room of it. Upon certain days, after partaking
of the Lord’s supper, they met at a common feast 5 the
rich bringing provisions, and the poor who had nothing
being invited.” It was always attended with receiving
the holy sacrament •, but there is some difference between
the ancient and modern interpreters as to the circum¬
stance of time, viz. whether this feast was held before
or after the communion. St Chrysostom is of the lat¬
ter opinion jHhe learned Dr Cave of the former.—These
love-feasts, during the three first centuries, were held
iu the church without scandal or offence 5 but, in after
times, the heathens began to tax them with impurity.
This gave occasion to a reformation of these agapce.
The kiss of charity, with which the ceremony used to
end, was no longer given between difi'erent sexes ; and
it was expressly forbidden to have any beds or couches,
for the conveniency of those who should be disposed to
eat more at their ease. Notwithstanding these precau¬
tions, the abuses committed in them became so notori¬
ous, that the holding of them (in churches at least) was
solemnly condemned, at the council of Carthage, in the
year 307.
AGAPETtE, in ecclesiastical history, a name given
to certain virgins and widows, who, in the ancient church
associated themselves with, and attended on, ecclesia¬
stics, out of a motive of piety and charity.
In the primitive days there were women instituted
Deaconesses ; who, devoting themselves to the service
of the church, took up their abode with the ministers,
and assisted them in their functions. In the fervour of
the primitive piety, there was nothing scandalous in
these societies: but they afterwards degenerated into
libertinism $ insomuch, that St Jerome asks, with indig¬
nation, unde agapetarum pestis in ecchsias int rout'd 'Phis
gave occasion for councils to suppress them.—St Atha¬
nasius mentions a priest, named Leontius, who, to re¬
move, all occasion of suspicion, offered to mutilate him¬
self, to preserve his beloved companion.
AGARD, Arthur, a learned English antiquarian,
torn at Toston in Derbyshire in the year 1540. His
fondness for English antiquities induced him to make
many large collections 5 and his office as deputy cham¬
berlain of the exchequer, which he held 45 years, gave
him great opportunities of acquiring skill in that study.
Similarity of taste brought him acquainted with Sir
Robert Cotton and other learned men, who associated
themselves under the name of The Society of Antiqua¬
rians, of which society Mr Agard was a conspicuous
member. He made the Doomsday book his peculiar
study; and composed a work purposely to explain it,
under the title of Tractalus de usu ct obscurioribus ver¬
bis libri de Domesday: he also compiled a book for the
service of his successors in office, which he deposited with
the officers of the king’s receipt, as a proper index for
succeeding officers. All the rest of his collections,
containing at least twenty volumes, he bequeathed to
Sir Robert Cotton ; and died in 1615.
AGARIC, Female. See Boletus, Botany In¬
dex.
Agaric Mineral, a marly earth resembling the ve¬
getable of that name in colour and texture. It is found
in the fissures of rocks, and on the roofs of caverns j
and is sometimes used as an astringent in fluxes, hemor-
rhagies, &c.
AGARICUS, Mushroom. See Agaricus, Bo¬
tany Index.
AGATE, or Achat, (among the Greeks and La¬
tins, and Achates, from a river in Sicily, on the
banks of which it was first found), a very extensive ge¬
nus of the semipellucid gems.
These stones are variegated with veins and clouds,
but have no zones like those of the onyx. They are
composed of crystal debased by a large quantity of
earth, and not formed, either by repeated incrustations
round a central nucleus, or made up of plates laid even¬
ly on one another; but are merely the effect of one
simple concretion, and variegated only by the disposi¬
tion given by the fluid they were formed in to their
differently coloured veins or matters.
Agates are arranged according to the different co¬
lours of their ground. Of those with a white ground
there are three species. (1.) The dendrachates, mocoa
stone, ox arborescent agate. This seems to be the same
with what some authors call the achates with rosemary
in the middle, and others achates with little branches
of black leaves. (2.) The dull milky-looking agate.
This, though greatly inferior to the former, is yet a
very beautiful stone. It is common on the shores of ri¬
vers in the East Indies, and also in Germany and some
other parts of Europe. Our lapidaries cut it into coun¬
ters for card-playing, and other toys of small value.
(3.) The lead-coloured agate, called the phassachates by
the ancients.
Of the agates with a reddish ground there are four
species. (1.) An impure one of a flesh-coloured white,
which is but of little beauty in comparison with othes
agates. The admixture of flesh colour is but very
slight j and it is often found without any clouds, veins,
or other variegations ; but sometimes it is prettily veined
or variegated with spots of irregular figures, having
fimbriated edges. It is found in Germany, Italy, and
some other parts of Europe ; and is wrought into toys
of small value, and often into the German gunflints.
It has been sometimes found with evident specimens of
the perfect mosses bedded deep in it. (2.) That of a
pure blood colour, called hcemachates, or the bloody
agate, by the ancients. (3.) The clouded and spotted
agate, of a pale flesh colour, called by the ancients the
cornelian achates or sardachates. (4.) The red-lead
coloured one, variegated with yellow, called the coral
agate, or cor alia-achates, by the ancients.
Of the agates with a yellowish ground there are only
two known species 5 the one of the colour of yellow
wax, called cerachates by the ancients j the other a
very
A G A
[ 277 ] A G A
.gate, very elegant stone, of a yellow ground, variegated with
—v — 1 white, black, and green, called the Iconina, n\v\ Icon-
teseres, by the ancients.
Lastly, Ot the agates with a greenish ground, there
is only one known species, called by the ancients jas-
pachates.
Ot all these species there are a great many varieties;
some of them having upon them natural representations
of men and difierent kinds of animals, &c. Those
representations are not confined to the agates whose
ground is ot any particular colour, but are occasional¬
ly found on all the difierent species. Velschius had in
his custody a flesh-coloured agate, on one side of which
appeared a half moon in great perfection, represented
by a milky semicircle; on the other side, the phases of
vesper, or the evening star : whence he denominated it
an aphrodisian agate. An agate is mentioned by Kir-
phem, cher *, on which rvas the representation of a heroine
man. armed ; and one in the church of St Mark in Venice
!’a”' '’has the representation of a king’s head adorned with a
3 diadem. On another, in the museum of the prince
of Gonzaga, was represented the body of a man with
all his clothes in a running posture. A still more cu-
• gem. rious one is mentioned by De Bootf, wherein appears
c- 95- a circle struck in brown, as exactly as if done with a pair
of compasses, and in the middle of the circle the exact
figure of a bishop with a mitre on : but inverting the
stone a little, another figure appears ; and if it is turned
yet further, two others appear, the one of a man, and
the other of a woman. But the most celebrated agate
of this kind is that of Pyrrhus, wherein were represent¬
ed the nine Muses, with their proper attributes, and
V/' Apollo in the middle playing on the harp J. In the
emperor’s cabinet is an oriental agate of a surprising
bigness, being fashioned into a cup, whose diameter is
an ell, abating two inches. In the cavity is found de¬
lineated in black specks, B. xristor. s. xxx. Other
agates have also been found, representing the numbers
4191, 191 ; whence they were called arithmetical
agates, as those representing men or women have ob¬
tained the name of anthropomorphous.
Great medicinal qualities were formerly attributed to
the agate, such as resisting poisons, especially those of
the viper, scorpion,, and spider; but they are now very
justly rejected from medicinal practice. The oriental
ones are all said to be brought from the river Gambay.
A mine of agates was some time ago discovered in
Transylvania, of divers colours; and some of a large
size, weighing several pounds.
Agates may be stained artificially with solution of
silver in spirit of nitre, and afterwards exposing the
part to the sun ; and though these artificial colours
disappear on laying the stone for.a night in aquafortis,
yet a knowledge of the practicability of thus staining
agates, must render these curious figures above men¬
tioned strongly suspected of being the work not of na¬
ture but of art. Some account for these phenomena
*rom natural causes. Thus Kircher, who had seen
a stone of this kind in which yvere depicted the four
letters usually inscribed on crucifixes, 1. N. B. I. ap¬
prehends that some real crucifix had been buried un¬
der ground, among stones and other rubbish, where the
inscription happening to be parted from the cross, and
to be received among a soft mould or clay susceptible
of the impression of the letters, came afterwards to be
petrified. In the same manner he supposes the agate Agate,
ot Pyrrhus to have been formed. Others resolve much -y ■■
of the wonder into fancy, and suppose those stones
formed in the same manner with the camaieux * or Flo-* See Ca-
rentine stones. maiettx.
The agate is used for making cups, rings, seals,
handles for knives and forks, hilts for swords and
hangers, beads to pray with, smelling boxes, patch-
boxes, &c. being cut or sawed with no great difficul¬
ty. At Paris none have a right to deal in this com¬
modity except the wholesale mercers and goldsmiths.
Ihe sword cutlers are allowed to sell it, but only when
made into handles for couteaux de chasse, and ready set
in. The cutlers have the same privilege for their knives
and forks.
Considerable quantities of these stones are still found
near the river Achates in Sicily. There are found in
some of these the surprising representations above men¬
tioned, or others similar to them. By a dexterous ma-
nagement of these natural stains, medals have been pro¬
duced, which seem masterpieces of nature: for this stone
bears the graver well; and as pieces of all magnitudes
are found, they make all sorts of work of it. The high
altar of the cathedral of Messina is all over encrusted
with it. The lapidaries pretend that the Indian agates
are finer than the Sicilian ; but Father Labat t informs f Voyage
us, that in the same quarries, and even in the sametom.
block, there are found pieces much finer than others,v'P* I36-
and these fine pieces are sold for Indian agates in order
to enhance their prices.
Agate, among antiquaries, denotes a stone of this
kind, engraven by art. In this sense, agates make a
species of antique gems; in the workmanship whereof
we find eminent proofs of the great skill and dexterity
of the sculptors. Several, agates of exquisite beauty are
preserved in the cabinets of the curious ; but the facts
or histories represented on these antique agates, however
yvell executed, are now become so obscure, and their
explications so difficult, that several diverting mistakes
and disputes have arisen among those who undertook to
give their true meaning.
The great agate of the apotheosis of Augustus, in
the treasury of the holy chapel, when sent from Con¬
stantinople to St Lewis, passed for a triumph of Joseph.
An agate, which was in the French king’s cabinet^, h&Oi \Hist. Acad
been kept 700 years with great devotion, in the Bene-^- Inscrip.
dictine abbey of St Evre at-Ton], where it passed for10"1,1- p*
St John the Evangelist carried away by an eagle, and3,37’ 344‘
crowned by an angel; but the Heathenism of it having
been lately detected, the religious would no longer give
it a place among their relicks, but presented it in 1684
to the king. The antiquaries found it to be the apo¬
theosis of Germanicus. In like manner the triumph
of Joseph was found.to be a representation of Germa¬
nicus and Agrippina, under the figures of Ceres and
Triptolemus. Another was preserved, from time im¬
memorial, in one of the most ancient churches of
France, where it had passed for a representation of pa¬
radise and the fall of man ; there being found on it two
figures representing Adam and Eve, with a tree, a ser¬
pent, and a Hebrew inscription round it, taken from
the third chapter of Genesis, “ The woman saw that
the tree was good,” &c. The French academists, in¬
stead of our first parents, found Jupiter and Minerva
represented by the two figures : the inscription was ctf
a
A G D [ 278 ] AGE
a modern date, written in a rabbinical character, very
incorrect, and poorly engraven. The prevailing opi¬
nion was, that this agate represented simply the wor¬
ship of Jupiter and Minerva at Athens.
Agate is also the name of an instrument used by
gold-wire drawers; so called from the agate in the
middle of it, which forms its principal part.
AGATHIAS, or, as he calls himself in his epi¬
grams, Agathius, distinguished by the title of Sc/10-
lasticus, a Greek historian in the 6th century under
Justinian. He was born at Myrina, a colony of the
ancient ZEolians, in Asia the Less, at the mouth of
the river Phythicus. He was an advocate at Smyrna.
Though he had a taste for poetry, he was yet more fa¬
mous for his history, which begins with the 26th year
of Justinian’s reign, where Procopius ends. It was
printed in Greek and Latin by Vulcanius, at Leyden,
1 594, in 4to ; and at Paris at the king’s printing house,
j66o, in folio,
AGATHO, the Athenian, a tragic and comic poet,
was the disciple of Prodicus and Socrates, and applaud¬
ed by Plato in his Dialogues for his virtue and beauty.
H is first tragedy obtained the prize ; and he was crown¬
ed in the presence of upwards of 30,000 persons in the
4th year of the 90th Olympiad. There is nothing now
extant of his works, excepting a few quotations, in A-
ristotle, Athenaeus, and others.
AGATHOCLES, the famous tyrant of Sicily, was
the son of a potter at Reggio. He was a thief, a com¬
mon soldier, a centurion, a general, and a pirate, all in
regular succession. He defeated the Carthaginians se¬
veral times in Sicily, and was once defeated himself.
He first made himself tyrant of Syracuse, and then of
all Sicily j after which he vanquished the Carthagini¬
ans again both in Sicily and Africa. But at length ha¬
ving ill success, and being in arrears with his soldiers,
they mutinied, forced him to fly his camp, and cut the
throats of his children, whom he left behind. Recover¬
ing himself again, he relieved Corfu, besieged by Cas-
sander ; burnt the Macedonian fleet; returned to Sici¬
ly ; murdered the wives and children of those who had
murdered his : afterwards meeting with the soldiers
themselves, he put them all to the sword •, and, rava¬
ging the sea-coast of Italy, took the city of Hipponium.
He was at length poisoned by his grandson Archagathus,
in the ygd year of his age, 290 years before Christ,
having reigned 28 years.
AGATHYRNA, or Agathyrnum, Agathyrsa,
or Agathyrsum, in Ancient G(Ograp//y, a town of Si¬
cily ; now St Marco ; as old as the war of Troy, being
built by Agathyrnus, son of iEolus, on an eminence.
The gentilitious name is Agathyrnceus; or, accoi’ding
to the Roman idiom, Agathyrnensis.
AGAVE, American Aloe, in Botany. See Bo¬
tany Index.
AGDE, a city of France, in the department of He-
rault, formerly the province of Languedoc, in the ter¬
ritory of Agadez, with a bishop’s see. The diocese is
small, but is one of the richest countries in the king¬
dom. It produces fine wool, wine, oil, coin, and silk.
It is seated on. the river Herault, a mile and a quarter
from its mouth, where it falls into the gulf of Lyons,
and where there is a fort built to guard its entrance.
It contains 7200 inhabitants 5 the houses are built of
black stone, and there is an entrance into the city by
2
four gates. The greatest part of the inhabitants are mer- Adgc.
chants or seamen. The public buildings are but mean : Age.
the cathedral is small, and not very handsome : the hi- ^
shop’s palace is an old building, but convenient. The
city is extended along the river, where it forms a little
port wherein small craft may enter. There is a great
concourse of pilgrims and othex-devout people to the cha¬
pel of Notre Dame de Grace. It is a little without the
city, between which and the chapel there are about
thirteen or fourteen oratories, which they visit with na¬
ked feet. The convent of the Capuchins is well built,
and on the outside are lodgings and apartments for the
pilgrims who come to perform their neuvaine or nine
days devotion. The chapel, which contains the image
of the Virgin Mary, is distinct from the convent. E.
Long. 3. 28. N. Lat. 43. 19.
AGE, in the most general sense of the word, signi¬
fies the duration of any being, from its first coming in¬
to existence to the time of speaking of ii, if it still con¬
tinues ; or to its destruction, if it has ceased to exist
some time before we happen to mention it.
Among the ancient poets, this word was used for the
space of 30 years; in which sense, age amounts to
much the same with getieration. Thus, Nestor is said
to have lived three ages when he was 90 years old.—
By ancient Gx-eek historians, the time elapsed since the
beginning of the world is divided into three periods,
which they called ages. The first reaches from the
creation to the deluge which happened in Greece dur¬
ing the reign of Ogyges ; this they called the obscure
or uncertain age, because the history ol mankind is
altogether uncertain during that period. The second
they call the fabulous or heroic age, because it is the
period in which the fabulous exploits of their gods and
heroes are said to have been performed. It began with
the Ogygian deluge, and continued to the first Olym¬
piad ; where the third or historical age commenced.—
This division however, it must be observed, holds good
only with regard to the Gi'eeks and Romans, who had
no histories earlier than the first Olympiad ; the Jews,
Egyptians, Phoenicians, and Chaldees, not to mention
the Indians and Chinese, wTho pretend to much highei;
antiquity, are not included in it.
The interval since the first formation of man has
been divided by the poets into four ages, distinguished
by the epithets oigolden, silver, brazen, and iron. Du¬
ring the golden age, Saturn x'eigned in heaven, and
justice and innocence in this lower world. The earth
then yielded her productions without culture ; men
held all things in common, and lived in perfect friend¬
ship. This period is supposed to have lasted till the
expulsion of Saturn from his kingdom. The silver age
commenced when men began to deviate from the path*
of virtue : and, in consequence of this deviation, their
lives became less happy. The brazen age commenced
on a farther deviation, and the iron age took place in
consequence of one still greater. A late author, how¬
ever, reflecting on the barbarism of the first ages, will
have the order which the poets assign to the four ages
inverted ; the first being a time of rudeness and igno¬
rance, moi'e pi'operly denominated an iron than a gold¬
en age. When cities and states were founded, the sil¬
ver age commenced ; and since arts and sciences, navi¬
gation and commerce, have been cultivated, the golden
age has taken place.
A jQ E [279
In some ancient northern monuments, the rocky or
stony age corresponds to the brazen age of the Greeks.
It is calh d rocky, on account of Noah’s ark, which
rested on Mount Ararat ; whence men were said to be
descended or sprung from mountains: or from Deuca-
]
AGE
or woman being then capable of acting for themselves,
of managing their affairs, making contracts, disposing
of their estates, and the like.
Age of a Horse. See Horse.
D a - Age of Trees. Tliese after a certain age w'aste. An
bon and I^rrfia restoring the race of mankind, by oak at a hundred years old ceases to grow. The usual
throwing stones over their heads. The northern poets rule for judging of the age of wood, is by the number
also style the fourth age of the world the ashen age, of circles which appear in the substance of a trunk or
from a Gothic king Madenis, or Mannus, who on ac- stock cut perpendicularly, each circle being supposed
count of his great strength was said to be made of ash, the growth of a year 5 though some reject this method
or because in his time people began to make use of as precarious, alleging, that a simple circle
weapons made of that wood.
Among the Jews, the duration of the world is also
divided into three ages. 1. The seculum inane, or void
age, was the space of time from the creation to Moses.
2. The present age, denotes all the space of time from
Moses to the coming of the Messiah; and, 3. The age to
come, denotes the time from the coming of the Messiah
to the end of the world.
Various other divisions of the duration of the world
into ages have been made by historians.—The Sibyl¬
line oracles, wrote according to some, by Jews ac¬
quainted with the prophecies of the Old Testament,
divide the duration of the world' into ten ages ; and ac¬
cording to Josephus, each age contained six hundred
years. It appears, by Virgil’s fourth eclogue, and other
testimonies, that the age of Augustus was reputed the
end of those ten ages, consequently as the period of the
world’s duration.
By some, the space of time commencing from Con¬
stantine, and ending with the taking of Constantinople
by the Turks in the 15th century, is called the middle
age : but others choose rather to date the middle
age from the division of the empire made by Theodo¬
sius at the close of the 4th century, and extend it to
the time of the emperor Maximilian I. in the begin¬
ning of the i6(h century, when the empire was first
divided into circles.—The middle is by some denoted
the barbarous age, and the latter part of it the lowest
age. Some divide it into the non-academical and aca-
Pdemical wpk. The first includes the space of time from
the the 9th century, during which schools or
^(tJ^Bmies were lost in Europe. The second from the
century, when schools were restored, and universi¬
ties established, chiefly by the care of Charlemagne.
The several ages of the world may be reduced to
three grand epochs, viz. the age of the law of nature,
called by the Jews the void age, from Adam to Moses ;
the age of the Jewish law, from Mo^es to Christ ; and
the age of grace, from Christ to the present year.
Age is also frequently used in the same sense with
century, to denominate a duration of 100 years.
Age likewise signifies a certain period of the duration
of human life ; by some divided into four stages, name¬
ly, infancy, youth, manhood, and old age; the first ex¬
tending to the 15th year, the second to the 25th, the
third to the 50th, and the fourth to the end of life;
by others divided into infancy, childhood, youth, man¬
hood, and old age.
Age, in Zr7?tf, signifies a certain period of life, when
persons of both sexes are enabled to do certain acts.
Thus, one at twelve years of age ought to take the
oaths of allegiance to the king in a leet ; at fourteen
he may marry, choose his guardian, and claim his lands
held in soccage. Twenty-one is called full age, a man
is some¬
times the produce of several years ; besides that, after
a certain age, no new circles are formed.
fGErPrior, in Law, is when an action being brought
against a person under age, for lands descended to him,
he, by motion or petition, shows the matter to the
court, praying the action may be staid till his full age,
which the court generally agrees to.
AGELNOTH, Egelnoth, or yEthelnoth, in
Latin Achelnotus, archbishop of Canterbury, in the
reign of Canute the Great, succeeded Livingus in that
see in the year 1020. This prelate, surnamed the Good,
vyas son of Earl Agilmer, and at the time of his elec¬
tion, dean of Canterbury. After his promotion he
went to Rome, and received his pall from Pope Bene¬
dict VIII. In h is wav thither, as he passed through
Pavia, he purchased, for an hundred talents of silver
and one of gold, St Augustin’s arm, which was kept
there as a relic ; and sent it over to England as a pre¬
sent to Leolric earl of Coventry. Upon his return, be
is said to have raised the see of Canterbury to its for¬
mer lustre. He was much in favour with King Ca¬
nute, and employed his interest with that monarch to
good purposes. It was by his advice the king sent
over large sums of money for the support of the foreign
churches; and Malmsbury observes that this prince
was prompted to acts of piety, and restrained from ex¬
cesses, by the regard he had for the archbishop. Agei-
noth, after he had sat 17 years in the see of Canter¬
bury, departed this life on the 29th of October 1038,
and was succeeded by Eadsius, King Harold’s chap¬
lain. This archbishop was an author, having written,
I. A Panegyric on the blessed Virgin Mary. 2. A Let¬
ter to Earl Leofric concerning St Augustin. 3. Letters
to several persons.
AGEMA, in Macedonian antiquity, was a body of
soldiers, not unlike the Roman legion.
AGEMOGLANS, Agiamoglans, or Azamo-
GLANS, in the Turkish Polity, are children purchased
from the Tartars, or raised every third year, by way
of tribute, from the Christians tolerated in the Turkish
empire. These, after being circumcised and instructed
in the religion and language of their tyrannical masters,
are taught the exercises of war, till they are of a pro¬
per age for carrying arms; and from this corps the ja¬
nizaries are recruited. With regard to those who are
thought unfit for the army, they are employed in the
lowest offices of the seraglio. Their appointments also
are very small, not exceeding seven aspers and a half
per day, which amount to about threepence-halfpenny
of our monev.
AGEN, a city of France, on the river Garonne, the
capital of Agenois, in the province of Guienne, now
the department of the Lot and Garonne, and the see of
a bishop. The gates and old walls, which are yet
remaining,
Agen
Aaentes
AGE [
remaining, show that this city is very ancient, and that
its former circuit was not so great as the present. The
palace, wherein the presidial holds his sessions at this
J day, was heretofore called the castle of Montravel, and
is seated without the walls of the old city, and on the
side of the fosse. There are likewise the ruins of
another castle, called La Sagne, which was without the
walls, close by a brook. Though the situation of Agen
is convenient for trade and commerce, but very little
use is made of this advantage. Its population was
10,834 by the last enumeration. It is seated on the
bank of the river Garonne, in a pleasant country ;
but is itself a very mean and disagreeable place, the
houses being ill-built, and the streets narrow, crooked,
and dirty. E. Long. o. 35. N. Eat. 44. 12.
AGENDA, among philosophers and divines, signi¬
fies the duties which a man lies under an obligation to
perform: thus we meet with the agenda ot a Christian,
or the duties he ought to perform; in opposition to the
credenda, or things he is to believe.
Agenda, among merchants, a term sometimes used
for a memorandum-book, in which is set down all the
business to be transacted during the day, either at home
or abroad.
Agenda, among ecclesiastical writers, denotes the
service or office of the church. We meet with agenda
matutina et vespertina, “ the morning and evening
prayers 5” agenda diet, “ the office of the day,” whe¬
ther feast or fast j agenda mortuorum, called also sim¬
ply agenda, “ the service of the dead.”
Agenda is also applied to certain church-books,
compiled by public authority, prescribing the order and
manner to be observed by the ministers and people in
the principal ceremonies and devotions of the church.
In which sense agenda amounts to the same with what
is otherwise called ritual, liturgy, acalouthia, missal,
formulary, directory, &c.
AGENHINE, in our old writers, signifies a guest
that has lodged at an inn for three nights, after which
time he was accounted one of the family 5 and if he of¬
fended the king’s peace, his host was answerable for him.
It is also rvritten Hogenhine and Hogenhyne.
AGENOIS, in Geography, a country of France, in
the department of the Garonne, formerly the province
of Guienne. It contains about one hundred and twenty
square leagues ; is fertile and healthy j and, according
to Caesar, was inhabited by the Nitiobriges. It con¬
stituted part of the kingdom of Aquitania j was held
by the counts of Toulouse, and successively by the
English and French.
AGENORIA, in mythology, the goddess of cou¬
rage and industry, as Vacuna was of indolence.
AGENT, in a general sense, denotes any active
power or cause. Agents are either natural or moral.
Natural agents are such inanimate bodies as have a
power to act upon other bodies in a certain and deter¬
minate manner; as gravity, fire, &c. Moral agents,
on the contrary, are rational creatures, capable of re¬
gulating their actions by a certain rule.
Agent, is also used to denote a person intrusted
with the management of an affair, whether belonging
to a society, company, or private person.
Agentes in rebus, one of the ranks of officers in the
court of the Constantinopolitan emperors, whose busi-
3
AGE
280 ]
ness was to collect and convey the corn both for the
army and household j to carry letters and messages
from court to all parts of the empire; to regulate
couriers and their vehicles j to make frequent journeys
and expeditions through the provinces, in order to inspect
any motions, disturbances, or machinations tending that
way, and to give early notice thereof to the emperor.
The agentes in rebus are by some made synonymous
with our post-masters, but their functions were of great
extent. They correspond to what the Greeks call
7rvg6<p*got, and the Latins veredarii.
There were various orders or degrees of agentes in
rebus ; as tribuni, primicerii, senatores, ducenarii, biar-
chi, circitores, equites, tyrones, &c. through all which
they rose gradatim. Their chief, who resided at Con¬
stantinople, was denominated princeps; which was a
post of great dignity, being reckoned on a level with
that of proconsul. They were settled in every part of
the empire ; and are also said to have served as inter¬
preters.
ACER, in Roman antiquity, a certain portion of
land allowed to each citizen. See Agrarian Law.
ACER picenus, or Picenum, in Ancihnt Geography,
a territory of Italy to the south-east of Umbria, reach¬
ing from the Apennines to the Adriatic. The people
are called Picentes (Cicero, Livy,) distinct from the
Picentini on the Tuscan sea, though called by Greek
writers ILxevim*. This name is said to be derived from
the bird picus, under whose conduct they removed from
the Sabines, of whom they were a colony.
AGERATUM, Bastard Hemp-Agrimony, in
Botany. See Botany Index.
AGESILAUS, king of the Lacedaemonians, the son
of Archidamus, was raised to the throne in opposi¬
tion to the superior claim of his nephew Leotychides.
As soon as he came to the throne, he advised the La¬
cedaemonians to anticipate the king of Persia, who
was making great preparations for war, and to attack
him in his own dominions. He was himself chosen for
this expedition j and gained so many advantages over
the enemy, that if the league which the Athenians and
the Thebans formed against the Lacedaemonians had
not obliged him to return home, he would have carried
his victorious arms into the very heart of the Persian
empire. He gave up, however, all these triumphs
readily, to come to the succour of his country, which
he happily relieved by his victory over the allies in Bce-
otia. He obtained another near Corinth; bit to his
great mortification, the Thebans afterward gained se¬
veral over the Lacedaemonians. These misfortunes at
first raised a clamour against him. He had been sick
during the first advantages which the enemy gained;
but as soon as he was able to act in person, his valour
and prudence prevented the Thebans from reaping the
advantages of their victories 5 so that it was generally
Agmcj
A-gesilati
believed, had he been in health at the beginning, the
Lacedaemonians would have sustained no losses, and that
all would have been lost had it not been for his assist¬
ance. It cannot be denied but he loved Avar more
than the interest of his country required for if he
could haAre lived in peace, he had saved the Lacedae¬
monians several losses, and they Avould not have been
engaged in many enterprises which in the end contri¬
buted much to weaken their power. He died in the
third
A G G [2
csilaus third year ef the 104th Olympiad, being the 84th year
|j of his age, and 41st of his reign, and was succeeded by
gg?*' , his son Archidamus. Agesilaus would never suffer any
picture or sculpture to be made of him, and prohibited
it also by his will: this he is supposed to have done
from a consciousness of his own deformity $ for he was
of a shoit stature, and lame of one foot, so that stran¬
gers used to despise him at the first sight. His fame
went before him into Egypt, and there they had form¬
ed the highest ideas of Agesilaus. When he landed in
that country, the people ran in crowds to see him: but
great was their surprise when they saw an ill-dressed,
slovenly, mean-looking little fellow, lying upon the grass ;
they could not forbear laughing, and applied to him the
fable of the mountain in labour. He was, however,
the first to jest upon his own person 5 and such was the
gaiety of his temper, and the strength with which he
bore the roughest exercises, that these qualities made
amends for his corporeal defects. He was remarkable
for plainness and frugality in his dress and mode of
life.. “ Ibis (says Cornelius Nepos) is especially to be
admired in Agesilaus : when very great presents were
sent him by kings, governors, and states, he never
brought any of them to his own house 5 he changed
nothing of the diet, nothing of the apparel of the Lace¬
daemonians. He was contented with the same house in
which Euristhenes, the founder of his family, had
lived : and whoever entered there, could see no sign of
debauchery, none of luxury £ but on the contrary, many
of moderation and abstinence ; for it was furnished in
such a manner, that it differed in nothing from that of
any poor or private person.” Upon his arrival in
Egypt, all kinds of provisions were sent to him ; but
he chose only the most common, leaving the perfumes,
the confections, and all that was esteemed most delici¬
ous, to his servants. Agesilaus was extremely fond of
his children, and would often amuse himself by joining
in their diversions : one day ;when he was surprised
riding upon a stick with them, he said to a person who
had seen him in this posture, “ Forbear talking of it
till you are a father.”
^ AGGA, or Aggonna, a British settlement on the
Gold coast of Guinea. It is situated under the meri¬
dian of London, in 6 degrees of N. Lat.
AGGER, in the ancient military art, a work of for¬
tification, used both for the defence and the attack of
towns, camps, &c. In which sense it is the same with
what was otherwise called vallu/y, and in later times
oggesiurn; and among the moderns lines, sometimes,
cavaliers, terrasses, &c. The agger was usually a bank,
or elevation of earth or other matter, bound and sup¬
ported with timber ; having sometimes turrets on the
top, wherein the workmen, engineers, and soldiery,
were placed. It was also accompanied w'ith a ditch,
which served as its chief defence. The usual materials
of which it was made were earth, boughs, fascines,
stakes, and even trunks of trees, ropes, &c. variously
crossed, and interwoven somewhat in the figure of
stars 5 whence they were called stellati axes. ‘ When
tlupe were wanting, stones, bricks, tiles, supplied the
office : on some occasions arms, utensils, pack-saddles
were thrown in to fill it up. We even read of aggers
formed of the carcases of the slain 5 sometimes of dead
bones mixed with lime ; and even with the heads of
slaughtered citizens. For want of due binding, or so-
Vol. L Part I. 4
81 ] A G G
lid materials, aggers have sometimes tumbled down, A
with infinite mischief to the men. The besiegers used |)
to carry on a work of this kind nearer and nearer to- Aggregate,
wards the place, till at length they reached the very wall. v
Hie methods taken on the other side to defeat them
were., by fire, especially if the agger were of wood ; by
sapping and undermining, if of earth; and in some
cases, by erecting a counter agger.
The height of the agger was frequently equal to
that of the wall of the place. Caesar tells us of one he
made, which was 30 feet high and 330 feet broad.
Besides the use of aggers before towns, the generals
used to fortify their camps with such works; for want
of this precaution, armies have often been surprised and
ruined.
There were vast aggers made in towns and places on
the sea-side, fortified with towers, castles, &c. Those
made by Caesar and Pompey at Brundusium, are famous.
Sometimes aggers were even built across arms of the
sea, lakes, and morasses; as was done by Alexander be¬
fore Tyre, and by M. Antony and Cassius.—The wall
of Severus, in the north of England, may be consider¬
ed as a grand, agger, to which belong several lesser ones.
Agger, in ancient writers, likewise denotes the
middle part of a military road, raised into a ridge, with
a gentle slope on either side, to make a drain for the
water, and keep the way dry.
Hie term is also used for the whole road, or military
way. Where highways were to be made in low grounds,
as between two hills, the Romans used to raise them
above the adjacent land, so as to make them of a level
with the hills. These banks they called aggeres. Ber-
gier mentions several in Gallia Belgica, which were
thus raised, ten, fifteen, or twenty feet above ground.
— They are sometimes also caWeiS. aggeres calceati; and
now generally known by the name chausees or cause¬
ways.
AGGERHUYS, a city of Norway, capital of the
province of the same name, subject to Denmark, and
situated in E. Long. 28. 35. N. Lat. 59. 30.
AGGERS-HERRED, a district of Christiansand,
and a diocese of Norway. It consists of three juridical
places : namely, Ascher, West Barm, and Agger.
AGGLUTINANTS, in Pharmacy, a general name
for all medicines of a glutinous or viscid nature ; which,
by adhering to the solids, were supposed to contribute
to repair their loss.
AGGLUTINATION, in a general sense, denotes
the joining two or more things together, by means of
proper glue or cement.
Aggeutination, among physicians, implies the ac¬
tion of reuniting the parts of a body, separated by a
wound, cut, &c. It is also applied to the action of
such internal medicines as are supposed to be of an af-
gfutinating quality.
AGGREGATE, in a general sense, denotes the
sum of several things added together, or the collection
of them into one whole. Thus a house is an aggre¬
gate of stones, wood, mortar, &c. It differs from
mixed or compound; for, in the latter, the union
is more intimate than between the parts of an aggre¬
gate.
Aggregate, in Botany, is a term used to express
those flowers which are composed of parts or florets,
so united, by means either of the receptacle or calyx,
N a that
A G I [ 282 ] A G I
Aggrega- that no one of them can be taken away without de~
tion stroying the form of the whole. They are opposed to
H simple flowers, which have no such common part. See
Botany Index.
AGGREGATION, in physics, a species of union,
whereby several things which have no natural depen¬
dence or connexion with one another are collected to¬
gether, so as in some sense to constitute one. Tims, a
heap of sand, or a mass of ruins, are bodies by aggre¬
gation.
AGHER, a town of Ireland, situated in the southern
part of Ulster, not far from Clogher.
AGHRIM, a town of Ireland, in the county of
Wicklow, and province of Leinster, situated about 31
miles south-west of Wicklow.
AghriM, in Galway j a small village, distant about
32 miles from Dublin, and rendered memorable by a
decisive battle fought there, and at Kilcommodon-hill,
the 12th of July 1691, between General Ginkle and
Monsieur St Ruth, the commanders under King Wil¬
liam III. and James II.; when St Ruth, the general of
the Irish army, with 7000 of his men, was slain j but
of the English only 600. The victory was the more
considerable, as the English army consisted of no more
than 18,000 men j whereas the Irish were computed at
20,000 foot, and 5000 horse and dragoons. They lost
likewise nine pieces of brass cannon j all their ammuni¬
tion, tents, and baggage 5 and most of their small arms,
which they threw away to expedite their flight j with
11 standards, and 32 pair of colours.
AGIADES, in the Turkish armies, a kind of pio¬
neers employed in fortifying camps, smoothing of roads,
and the like offices.
AGILITY, an aptitude of the several parts of the
body to motion. The improving of agility was one of
the chief objects of the institution of games and exer¬
cises. The athletae made particular profession of the
science of cultivating and improving agility. Agility
of body is often supposed peculiar to some people •, yet
it seems less owing to any thing peculiar in their frame
and structure than to practice.
AGINCOURT, a village of the French Nether¬
lands, situated in E. Long. 2. 10. N. Lat. 50. 35.; fa¬
mous on account of the victory obtained by Henry V.
of Englhnd over the French, in 1415*
The army of Henry, after landing in France, was by
various accidents reduced to 10,000 men, of whom not
a few were sick, or slowly recovering from sickness $
—they had to traverse a long tract of country, inha¬
bited by exasperated enemies, from whom they were
to procure provisions, lodging, guides, intelligence, and
every thing they wanted ;—that country was defended
by many strong towns, intersected by deep rivers, and
guarded by an army of 100,000 or (according to some
contemporary writers) 140,000 men.
Henry, undaunted by all these dangers and difficul¬
ties, departed from Harfleur, marching his army in
three lirtes, with bodies of cavalry on the wings. He
proceeded by very easy journeys, that he might not fa¬
tigue hiis troops, or discourage them by the appearance
of a flight; observing the strictest discipline, and pay¬
ing generously for every thing he received ; which in¬
duced the Country people to bring provisions to his
Camp, ih spite of all the commands they had received
to the contrary. To keep his men id spirits, and from
repining, the king fared as ill as the meanest soldier, Agj
always appearing with a cheerful countenance, and
addressing them in the most friendly and encouraging
language. They arrived at the village of Agincourt
in the county of St Pol, on the evening of October
24th $ and there beheld the whole French army, at a
small distance, directly in their route. The king took
an attentive view of it from an eminence: and being
fully convinced that it was impossible to proceed any
further on his way to Calais without a battle, and equal¬
ly impossible to return to Harfleur with so great an
army in his rear, resolved to hazard an action next
morning, as the only means of preserving himself and
his little army from destruction.
The English army lodged that night in the villages
of Agincourt, Maisoncelle, and some others 5 where
they met with better accommodation than they had
been accustomed to for some time past, and spent part
of their time in mutual exhortations to fight bravely in
the approaching battle. The king, overhearing some
of his nobles expressing a wish, that the many brave
men who were idle in England were present to assist
them, is said to have cried out—“No! I would not
have one man more :—if we are defeated, we are too
many—if it shall please God to give us the victory, as
I trust he will, the smaller our number the greater our
glory.” The moon happening to shine very bright,
Henry, with some of his best officers, carefully exa¬
mined the ground, and pitched upon a field of battle,
admirably calculated to preserve a small army from be¬
ing surrounded by a great one. It was a gentle decli¬
vity from the village of Agincourt, of sufficient extent
for his small army, defended on either side by hedges,
trees, and brush-wood. Having placed guards and
kindled fires on all sides, the king and his army betook
themselves to rest *, except such as were of a more se¬
rious turn of mind, who, considering that as the last
night of their lives, spent it in devotion.
The French exulting in their numbers, confident of
victory, and abounding in provisions, spent the night
in noisy festivity, and in forming fanciful schemes a-
bout the disposal of their prisoners and their booty.
It was in general resolved to put all the English to the
sword, except the king and the chief nobility, who
were to be taken prisoners for the sake of their ran¬
soms.
On the morning of Friday the memorable 25th of
October, A. D. 141J, the day of Crispin and Crispia-
nus, the English and French armies were ranged in or¬
der of battle, each in three lines, with bodies of cavalry
on each wing. The constable d’Albert, who com¬
manded the French army, fell into the snare that was
laid for him, by drawing up his army in the narrow
plain between the two woods. This deprived him, in
a great measure, of the advantage he should have de¬
rived from the prodigious superiority of his numbers 5
obliged him to make his lines unnecessarily deep, about
30 men in file; to crowd his troops, particularly his
cavalry, so close together, that they could hardly move
or use their arms j and, in a word, was the chief cause
of all the disasters that followed. The French, it is
said, had a considerable number of cannon of different
sizes in the field ; but we do not hear that they did
any execution, probably for want of room. The first
line of the French army, which consisted of 8000 men
at-arms
A G I
ncourt. arms on foot mixed with 4000 archers, with 500
men-at-arms mounted on each wing, was commanded
by the constable d’Albert, the dukes of Orleans and
Bourbon, and many other nobles 5 the dukes of Aien-
£on, Brabant, and Bar, &c. conducted the second line;
and the earls of Marie, Damartine, Fauconberg, &c.
were at the head of the third line. The king of Eng¬
land employed various arts to supply his defect of num¬
bers. He placed 200 of his best archers in ambush, in
a low meadow, on the flank of the first line of the
French. His own first line consisted wholly of archers,
four in file ; each of whom, besides his bow and ar¬
rows, -had a battle-axe, a sword, and a stake pointed
with iron at both ends, which he fixed before him in
the ground, the point inclining outwards, to protect
him from cavalry. ^ 'Ibis was a new invention, and had
a happy effect. That he might not be encumbered, he
dismissed all his prisoners, on their word of honour to
surrender themselves at Calais, if he obtained the vic¬
tory; and lodged all his baggage in the village of A-
gincourt, in his rear, under a slender guard. The
command of the first line was, at his earnest request
committed to Edward duke of York, assisted by the
Lords Beaumont, Willoughby, and Fanhope ; the se¬
cond was conducted by the king, with his youngest bro¬
ther Humphry duke of Gloucester, the earls of Qx-
foid, Marshal, and Suffolk; and the third was led by
the duke of Exeter, the king’s uncle. The lines being
formed, the king, in shining armour, with a crown of
gold adorned with precious stones on his helmet, mount¬
ed on a fine white horse, rode along them, and addressed
each corps with a cheerful countenance and animating
speeches. Io inflame their resentment against their
enemies, he told them, that the French had determined
to cut of! three fingers of the right hand of every pri¬
soner : and to rouse their love of honour, he declared,
that every soldier in that army who behaved well,
should from henceforth be deemed a gentleman, and
entitled to bear coat armour.
When the two armies were drawn up in this man¬
ner, they stood a considerable time gazing at one an¬
other in solemn silence. But the king, dreading that
the t rench would discover the danger of their situation
and decline a battle, commanded the charge to be
-sounded, about ten o’clock in the forenoon. At that
instant, the first line of the English kneeled down,
and kissed the ground ; and then starting up, dischar¬
ged a fught of arrows, which did great execution a-
mong the crowded ranks of the French. Immediate¬
ly after, upon a signal being given, the archers in am¬
bush arose, and discharged their arrows on the flank of
the French line, and threw it into some disorder. The
battle now became general, and raged with uncommon
fury. The English archers, having expended all their
arrows, threw away their bows, and, rushing forward
made dreadful havock with their swords and battle-axes!
Ihe first line of the enemy was, by these means, de¬
feated ;^its leaders being either killed or taken prison¬
ers. The second line, commanded by the duke d’A-
len^on, (who had made a vow either to kill or take
the king of England, or to perish in the attempt),
now advanced to the charge, and was encountered by
the second line of the English, conducted by the kino-.
Ibis conflict was more close and furious than the for¬
mer. The duke of Gloucester, wounded and unhorsed,
[ 283 ]
A G I
oil the field. I he duke d’Alen?on forced his way to
e king, and assaulted him with great fury; but that
prince brought him to the ground, where he was in-
standy dispatched. Discouraged by this disaster, the
econd hue made no more resistance ; and the third fled
without striking a blow; yielding a complete and glo-
Zl C7alt»Eng,isb’afW “ ™'-‘
The king did not permit his men to pursue the fugi¬
tives to a great distance, but encouraged them to take
as many prisoners as they could on or near the field ; in
which they were so successful, that, in a little time, his
captives were more numerous than bis soldiers. A
great proportion of these prisoners were men of rank
and fortune ; for many of the French noblesse being on
oot, and loaded with their heavy armour, could not
make their escape. Among these were the dukes of
Orleans and Bourbon the marshal Boucicaut, the
counts d Eu, \endome, Richemont, and Harcourt; and
7000 barons, knights, and gentlemen. The French
left dead on the field of battle, the constable d’Albert
the three dukes of Alen?on, Brabant, and Bar, the
archbishop «f Sens one marshal, 13 earls, 92 barons,
1500 knights, and a far greater number of gentlemen,
besides several thousands of common soldiers. Even
the I reach historians acknowledge, that the loss of the
English was inconsiderable : those of our own cotempo¬
rary writers who make it the greatest, affirm, that it did
not exceed 100, and that the duke of York and the
eail of Suffolk were the only great men who fell on
tnat side in this memorable action.
AGIO, in commerce, is a terra chiefly used in Hol¬
land, and at Venice, to signify the difference between
the value of hank stock and the current coin. The
agio in Holland is generally three or four per cent, and
at Rome it is from 15 to 25 per cent.; but at Venice
the agio is fixed at 20 per cent.
, AGIOSTMANDRLTM, a wooden instrument used
r , rT,rtiek au<1 ot,ier Marches under the dominion
of the lurks, to call together assemblies of the people
1 he agiosymandrum was introduced in the place of bells
winch the Turks prohibited their Christian subjects the
use of, lest they should make them subservient to sedi¬
tion.
AGIS, king of Lacedaemon, was descended from
Agesilaus II. in a right line. He projected the refor¬
mation of his kingdom, by the restoring of the laws
of Lycurgus : but he fell under the weight of an en¬
terprise that could not but be disagreeable to all those
who had great possessions, and had been W accustom¬
ed to the sweets of a voluptuous life. Agis being in
the flower of his age, and having a very refined desire
ot glory, practised the ancient discipline first in his
own person : his clothes and his table were according
to the manners of former times ; which is so much the
more to be admired, because Agesistrata his mother
aad Archidamia his grandmother had brought him up
voluptuously. When he sounded the people’s minds, he
found the younger sort opposed his project less than
t lose who had enjoyed a relaxation of discipline several
years. The greatest difficulty was expected to arise
from the women. Ihey had at that time more credit
tnan ever ; for their power is never greater than when
luxury is in fashion. Agesilaus’s mother did not at all
^ n 2 relish
Agis.
A G I [2
relish the proposed reformation. She must have lost
her riches, which gave her a share in a thousand sorts
of intrigues j so she opposed the design at once, and
treated it as a chimera. But her brother Agesilaus,
whom Agis had engaged in his interests, knew how
to manage her in such a manner, that she promised to
second the enterprise. She endeavoured to gain the
women : but instead of suffering themselves to be per¬
suaded, they applied to Leonidas the other king of
Lacedaemon, and humbly besought him to frustrate
the designs of his colleague. Leonidas durst not op¬
pose it openly, for fear of irritating the people j to
whom the reformation W'as agreeable, because they
found their account in it. He contented himself with
countermining it by intrigues, and sowing suspicions as
if Agis had aspired to tyranny, by pulling down the
rich and raising the poor. Agis did not fail to pro¬
pose his new laws to the senate, relating to the dis¬
charge of debts, and a new division of the lands.. Leo¬
nidas, being supported by the rich, opposed this pro¬
ject so strongly, that there was one voice more against
it than for it. He paid dear for his success in this af¬
fair. Lysander, one of the Ephori, who had been
the grand promoter of the reformation *, called him to
account 5 alleged the celestial signs j and put to death
Cleombrotus, a prince of the royal blood and son-in-
law to Leonidas, to make sure of the kingdom. Leo¬
nidas being frightened at this, took refuge in a tem¬
ple ; whither his daughter, the wife of Cleombrotus,
followed him. He was summoned ; and because he
did not appear, he was degraded of his dignity, which
was conferred on Cleombrotus. He obtained leave to
retire to Tegsea. The new Ephori had Lysander and
Mandroclidas tried for innovation : these persuaded the
two kings to unite and turn out these Ephori. The
thing was brought about •, but not without a great up¬
roar in the city. Agesilaus, one of the Ephori that
succeeded those that were just turned out, would have
caused Leonidas to be killed on the way to Tegsea, if
Agis had not sent him a strong guard. The reforma¬
tion might then have been established, if Agesilaus
had not found means to elude the good intentions of
the two kings. Whilst this was transacting, the A-
chaians asked assistance j which was given them, and
Agis had the command of the troops. He acquired
a good deal off reputation in this campaign. At his
return, he forind his affairs so embroiled by the ill
conduct of Agesilaus, that it was impossible for him
to maintain himself. Leonidas was recalled to La¬
cedaemon : Agis retired into one temple and Cleo-
menes into another. The wife of the latter behaved
herself in such a manner that she became the admi¬
ration of every body. Leonidas was contented with
banishing his son-in-law ; after which he applied him¬
self entirely to the ruin of Agis. One of the Ephori,
who had no mind to return what Agesistrata had lent
him, was the principal instrument of the misfortune
of this family. Agis never went out of his sanctuary
but to bathe. One day, as he was returning from
thence to the temple, he was seized by that Ephorus
and carried to prison. Then he was brought to his
trial and condemned to death, and delivered to the
executioner. His mother and grandmother used all
the intreaty and importunity imaginable, that, as he
was king of Lacedaemon, he might at least be permit-
A G I
84 ]
ted to plead his cause before the people. But they
were apprehensive lest his words would make too great jl
an impression, and therefore they ordered him to be l>^ato
strangled that very hour. The Ephorus who was in
debt to Agesistrata permitted that princess to go into
the prison ; which he granted likewise to Agis’s grand¬
mother : but he gave orders to strangle them one after
another. Agesistrata died in a manner that was ex¬
tremely to her honour. The wife of Agis, who was
a princess of great fortune and prudence, and one of
the finest ladies in Greece, was forced away from her
apartment by King Leonidas, and obliged to marry his
son, who was then very young, and hardly fit for mar¬
riage.
AGISTMENT, Agistage, or Agistation, in
Law, the taking in other people’s cattle to graze at so
much per week. The term is peculiarly used for the
taking cattle to feed in the king’s forests, as well as for
the profits arising from that practice.—It is also used,
in a metaphorical sense, for any tax, burden, or charge 5
thus, the tax levied for repairing the banks of Romney-
marsh was called agistamentum.
AGISTOR, or Agistator, an officer belonging
to forests, who has the care of cattle taken in to be
grazed, and levies the moneys due on that account.
They are generally called quest-takers or gift-takers,
and are created by letters-patent. Each royal forest
has four agistors.
AGISYMBA, in Ancient Geography, a district of
Libya Interior, according to Agathemerus, situated to
the south-east of the yEthiopes Anthropophagi •, the
parallel passing through which, at 160 to the south of
the equator, was the utmost extent of the knowledge
of the ancients to the south (Ptolemy).
AGITATION, the act of shaking a body, or toss¬
ing it backwards and forwards.
Agitation, in Physic, is often used for an intestine
commotion of the parts of a natural body. Fermenta¬
tion and effervescence are attended with a brisk agita¬
tion of the particles.
Agitation is one of the chief causes or instruments
of mixtion : by the agitation of the parts of the blood
and chyle, in their continual circulation, sanguification
is in a good measure effected. Butter is made out of
milk by the same means : in which operation, a sepa¬
ration is made of the oleous parts from the serous, and
a conjunction of the oleous together. Digestion itself
is only supposed to be an insensible kind of agitation.
Agitation is reputed one of the symptoms of in¬
spiration. Petit informs us *, that in the last century,# p^J
there arose in a church of Italy, for the space of a year, |
a vapour of an extraordinary kind, which put all theti.^|
people into trembling and agitations, and unless they
got away betimes, set them a dancing, with strange^
contortions and gesticulations. This seems to verify
what has been related of the temple of Delphi.
Agitation is also used in Medicine for a species of
exercise popularly called swinging. Maurice prince of
Orange found this method a relief against the severe
pains of the gout and stone. Bartholine mentions fits
of the toothach, deafness, &c. removed by vehement
agitations of the body.
AGITATOR, in antiquity, a term sometimes used
for a charioteer, especially those who drove in the cir¬
cus at the curule games.
Agitators,
A G N [2
itators AGITATORS, in the English history, certain officers
[J set up in the army in 1647, to take care of its interests.
:lloeta;',—Cromwell joined the agitators, only with a view to
serve his own ends j which being once accomplished, he
found means to get them abolished.
AGLAIA, the name of the youngest of the three
Graces, espoused to Vulcan.
AGLIONBY, John, an English divine, chaplain
in ordinary to King James I. was born in Cumberland,
and admitted a student at Oxford in 1583. He was a
man ot universal learning, and had a very considerable
hand in the translation of the New Testament appointed
by King James I. in 1604. He died in 1609.
AGMEN, in antiquity, properly denotes a Roman
army in march : in which sense, it stands contradistin¬
guished from acies, which denoted the army in battle
array j though, on some occasions, we find the two
words used indifferently for each other. The Roman
armies, in their marches, were divided into primum
agmen, answering to our van-guard 5 medium agmen,
our main-guard ; andpostremum agmen, the rear-guard.
The order of their march was thus : After the first sig¬
nal with the trumpets, &c. the tents were taken down,
and the baggage packed up 5 at the second signal, the
baggage was to be loaded on the horses and carriages $
and, at the third signal, they were to begin their march.
First came the extraordinarii; then the auxiliaries of
the first wing, with their baggage ; these were followed
by the legions. The cavalry marched either on each
side or behind.
AGNATE, in Law, any male relation by the fa¬
ther’s side.
AGNEL, an ancient French gold coin, first struck
under the reign of St Louis, worth about twelve sols
six deniers. Ihe agnel is also called sometimes mouton
d'or, and agnel d'oi-. The denomination is supposed to
have arisen from the figure of a lamb {agnus) or sheep,
struck on one side.
AGNES, Saint, in Geogi'aphy, one of the Scilly
isles, on the west of England, which is of small extent,
but well cultivated, and fertile in corn and grass. On
the most elevated part of the island stands the light¬
house, built of stone, which is 51 feet high. The
whole inhabitants consist of about 50 families. It is
situated in N. Lat. 49. 56. W. Long. 6. 46.
AGNESI, Maria Gaetana, an Italian lady cele¬
brated for her skill in mathematics. See Supplement.
AGNO, a river of Naples, which taking its rise in
the mountains of Terra di Lavora, falls into the Me¬
diterranean, about seven miles north of Puzzuoli.
AGNOETiE (from uyvoia, to be ignorant of), in
church history, a sect of ancient heretics, who main¬
tained that Christ, considered as to his human nature,
was ignorant of certain things, and particularly of the
tune of the day of judgment. Eulogius, patriarch of
Alexandria, ascribes this heresy to certain solitaries in
the neighbourhood of Jerusalem, who built their opi¬
nion upon the text Mark xiii. 32. “ Of that day and
hour knoweth no man, no not the angels who are in
heaven, neither the Son, but the Father only.” The
same passage was made use of by the Arians; and
hence the orthodox divines of those days were induced
to give various explications thereof. Some allege, that
our Saviour here had no regard to his divine nature,
but only spoke of his human. Others understand it
5 ] AGO
thus. That the knowledge of the day of judgment does A-noet*
not concern our Saviour considered in his quality of ^ j|
Messiah, but God only $ which is the most natural so- Agon,
lution. 1——y—
AGNOMEN, in Roman antiquity, a kind of fourth
or mnoiary name, given to a person on account of some
extraordinary action, virtue, or other accomplishment.
I bus the agnomen Africanus was bestowed upon Pub¬
lius Cornelius Scipio, on account of his great achieve-
ments in Africa.—The agnomen was the third in order
ot the three Roman names: thus, in Marcus Tullius
Cicero, Marcus is the praenomen, Tullius the nomen,
and Cicero the agnomen.
AGNUS, or Lamb, in Zoology, the young of the
ovis or sheep. See OviS. 8
A.gnus Castus, in Botany, the trivial name of a spe¬
cies of the vitex. See Vitex, Botany Index. The
Greeks call it etyvo?, chaste ; to which has since been
added the reduplicative castus, q. d. chaste, chaste. It
was famous among the ancients as a specific for the
pieservation of chastity. Ihe Athenian ladies, who
made profession ot chastity, lay upon leaves of agnus
castus during the feasts of Ceres.—From the time of
Dioscorides the seeds of agnus castus have been much
celebrated for their antiaphrodisiac virtue. Modern
writers ascribe to them an opposite effect 5 but they are
seldom used in practice.
■Agnus L)ei, in the church of Rome, a cake of wax
stamped with the figure of a lamb supporting the ban¬
ner of the cross. These being consecrated by the
pope with great solemnity, and distributed among the
people, are supposed to have great virtues ; as, to pre¬
serve those who carry them worthily, and with faith,
from all manner of accidents j to expel evil spirits, &c..
The name literally signifies Lamb of God: this being
supposed an image or representation of the Lamb of
God who took away the sins of the world. They co¬
ver it up with a piece of stuff cut in form of a heart,
and carry it very devoutly in their processions.—The
Romish priests and religious derive considerable pecu¬
niary advantage from selling these Agnus Dei’s to some*
and presenting them to others. The pope provides a
regular supply, by consecrating once in seven years:
they are distributed by the master of the wardrobe, and
received by the cardinals and other prelates, with great
reverence, in their caps and mitres.—This ceremony
they pretend to derive from an ancient custom of the
church, wherein part of the paschal taper consecrated on
Holy Thursday was distributed among the people, to
perfume .their houses, fields, &c. in order to drive a-
way devils, and to preserve them from storms and tem¬
pests. I he Agnus Dei is forbidden to be brought into
England under pain ot incurring 0,premunire $ 13 Eliz.
cap. 2.
Agnus Dei is also a popular name for that part of
the mass wherein the priest, striking his breast three
times, rehearses, with a loud voice, a prayer beginning
with the words Agnus Dei.—It is said to have been
first brought into the missal by Rope Sergius I.
AGOGE, among ancient qmsicians, a species of
modulation, wherein the notes proceed by continuous
degrees.
AGON, among the ancients, implied any dispute
or contest, whether it had regard to bodily exercises or
the accomplishments of the mind j and therefore poets,.
musicians,.
AGO [ 286 ] A G R
Agon musicians, painters, &c. had their agones, as well as the
li athletse. Games of this kind were celebrated at most
Agony. ^ 0f ^]ie jieathen festivals with great solemnity, either an-
^ nually, or at certain periods of years. Among the lat¬
ter were celebrated at Athens, the agon gymnicus, the
agon ISfemeus instituted by the Argives in the 53d O-
lympiad, and the agon Olympius instituted by Hercules
430 years before the first Olympiad.—The Romans al¬
so, in imitation of the Greeks, instituted contests of this
kind. The emperor Aurelian established one under
the name of agon soli's, the contest of the sun ; Diocle-
sian another, which he called agon capitolinus, which
was celebrated every fourth year, after the manner of
the Olympic games. Hence the years, instead of lustra,
are sometimes numbered by agones.
Agon also signified one of the ministers employ¬
ed in the heathen sacrifices, and whose business it
was to strike the victim. The name is supposed to
have been derived from hence, that standing ready
to give the stroke, he asked, Agon*? or AgoneV Shall
I strike.
AGONALES, an epithet given to the Salii.
AGONALIA, in Roman antiquity, festivals cele¬
brated in honour of Janus or the god Agonius, whom
the Romans invoked before undertaking any affair of
importance.
AGONALIS circus, now La Lia,%%a JSlavona, a
long, large, beautiful street in the heart of Rome, adorn¬
ed with fountains, and the obelisk of Caracalla, still re¬
taining the form of that circus. The reason of the name
Agonalis is either unknown or doubtful. Ovid seems
to derive it from the agones, or solemn games, there
celebrated j supposed to have been the Ludi Apollinares,
ov Actiaci, instituted by Augustus 5 whence the circus
was called Apollinaris ; also Alexandrinus, from the em¬
peror Alexander Severus, who either enclosed or re-
paii’ed it.
AGONISMA, in antiquity, denotes the prize given
to the victor in any combat or dispute.
AGONIST ARCH A, from «y«v, “ combat,” and
“ chief,” in antiquity, seems to have been much
the same with agonotheta; though some suggest a dif¬
ference, making it the office of the former to preside at
and direct the private exercises of the atbletse, which
they went through by way of practice, before they
made their appearance on the public theatres or amphi¬
theatres.
AGONISTIC!, in church history, a name given by
Honatus to such of his disciples as he sent to fairs, mar¬
kets, and other public places, to propagate his doctrine ;
for which icason they were also called Circutores, Cir-
celliones, Catropitce, Coropitce, and at Rome Montenses.
They were called Agonistici, from the Greek «yov,
“ combat,” in regard they were sent as it were to fight
and subdue the people to their opinions.
AGONIUM, in Roman antiquity, was used for the
day on which the rex sacrormn sacrificed a victim, as
well as for the place where the games were celebrated,
otherwise called agon.
AGONOTHETA, or Agonothetes, in Grecian
antiquity, was the president or superintendant of the sa¬
cred games $ who not only defrayed the expence attend¬
ing them, but inspected the manners and discipline of
the athletic, and adjudged the prizes to the victors.
AGONY, any extreme pain. It is also used for
3
a course of pain and sickness having usually stupified
and indisposed the nerves for any quick sensations.
However, various means have been thought of for mi¬
tigating the agony of death. Lord Bacon considers
this as part of the province of a physician ; and that
not only where such a mitigation may tend to a reco¬
very, but also when, there being no further hope of a
recovery, it can only tend to make the passage out of
life more calm and easy. Complacency in death, which
Augustus so much desired, is certainly no small part of
happiness. Accordingly, the author last cited ranks
euthanasia, or the art of dying easily, among the deside¬
rata of science ; and does not even seem to disapprove
of the course Epicurus took for that end,
——Hinc stygias ehrius hausit aquas.
Opium has been applied for this purpose, with the ap¬
plause of some, but the condemnation of more.
AGONYCLIT7E, or Agonyclites, in church
history, a sect of Christians, in the yth century, who
prayed always standing, as thinking it unlawful to kneel.
AG OR ASUS, in heathen antiquity, an appellation
given to such deities as had statues in the market¬
places ; particularly Mercury, whose statue was to be
seen in almost every public place.
AGORANOMUS, in Grecian antiquity, a magi¬
strate of Athens, who had the regulation of weights
and measures, the prices of provisions, &c.— The ago-
ranomi, at Athens, were ten in number, five belonging
to the city, and as many to the Piraeus ; though others
make them 15 in all, of whom they assign 10 to the ci¬
ty. To these a certain toll or tribute rvas paid by all
who brought any thing to sell in the market.
AGOUTI, or Aguti. See Mus.
AGRA, a large city in Hindustan on the river Jum¬
na, and capital of a province of the same name. The
houses consist of several stories, and the streets are so
narrow’ as scarcely to admit a palanqueen. The great¬
est part of it is now a heap of ruins, and nearly unin¬
habited. On the opposite side of the river are several
handsome tombs. The Taje Mahal, perhaps the most
superb mausoleum in the world, is situated about three
miles below the city, and is constructed of white mar¬
ble inlaid with precious stones. It was built by the
emperor Shah Jehan between the years 1631 and 1640,
for the cemetery of his wife, and is said to have cost
750,000k sterling. Agra was taken from the Moguls
in 1784 by Madajee Sindia the Mahratta chief, and
remained in the hands of his successor till 1803, when
it was captured by the British army under Lord Lake.
E. Long. 76. 56. N. Lat. 27. 12.
AGRARIAN LAWS, among the Romans, those
relating to the division and distribution of lands ; of
which there were a great number ; but that called the
Agrarian Laru, by way of eminence, was published by
Spurius Cassius, about the year of Rome 268, for di¬
viding the conquered lands equally among all the citi¬
zens, and limiting the number of acres which each
citizen might enjoy.—-The Roman lands were of seve¬
ral kinds; some conquered from the enemies, and not
yet brought to the public account; others brought in-
AGE [5
man deed to the public, but clandestinely usurped by pri¬
ll vate great men j lastly, others purchased with the* pub-
^ . l>c money, in order to be divided. Agrarian laws,
either for dividing lands taken from the enemy, or the
public lands, or those purchased with the public mo¬
ney, were easily passed without disturbance ; but those
■whereby private rich men were to be deprived of their
lands, and the common people put in possession of what
had been held by the nobility, were never attempted
without great disturbances.
Several have pleaded for the necessity of agrarian
law’s among us : but no author has entered so deeply
into the subject as Mr Harrington in his Ocea?ia ; which
the reader may consult.
AGK.EDA, a town of Spain, in Old Castile, near
the frontiers of Arragon, and about three leagues south¬
west of Taracon.
AGRIA, called by the Germans Eger, is a strong
town in Upper Hungary, containing 8000 inhabitants,
and is a bishop’s see. It is situated on a river of the
same name, and has a citadel called Enaw. It was
besieged by the Turks in 1552, with 70,000 men : but
they lost 8000 in one day, and were obliged to raise the
siege, though the garrison consisted only'of 2000 Hun¬
garians, assisted by the women, who performed won¬
ders on this occasion. However, it was afterwards
taken by Mahomet III. in 1596 5 but was retaken by
the emperor in 1687: since which time it has conti¬
nued under the dominion of the house of Austria. It
is 47 miles north-east of Buda, and south-west of
Cassovia. E. Long. 20. 10. N. Lat. 48. 10.
AGRICOLA, Cnacus Julius, born at Frejus, in
Provence, was, in Vespasian’s time, made lieutenant to
\ettius Bolanus m Britain j and upon his return, was
ranked by that emperor among the patricians, and
made governor of Aquitania. This post he held three
years; and upon his return was chosen consul, and af¬
terward appointed governor of Britain, where he great¬
ly distinguished himself. He reformed many abuses oc¬
casioned by the avarice or negligence of former gover¬
nors, put a stop to extortion, and caused justice to be
impartially administered. Vespasian dying about this
time, his son Titus, knowing the great merit of Agri-
cola, continued him in the government. In the »prin<r
he marched towards the north, where he made some
new conquests, and ordered forts to be built for the
Romans to winter in. He spent the following rvinter
in concerting schemes to bring the Britons to conform
to the Roman customs. He thought the best way of
diverting them from rising and taking arms, vras to
soften their rough manners, by proposing to them new
kinds of pleasure, and inspiring them with a desire of
imitating the Roman manners. Soon after this, the
country was adorned with magnificent temples, porti¬
coes, baths, and many other fine buildings. The British
nobles had at length their sons educated in learning ;
and they who before had the utmost aversion to the Ro¬
man language, now began to study it with great assi¬
duity : they wore likewise the Roman habit •, and, as
Tacitus observes, they were brought to consider those
things as marks of politeness, which were only so many
badges of slavery. Agricola, in his third campaign, ad¬
vanced as far as the Tweed j and in his fourth, he sub¬
dued the nations betwixt, the Tweed and the friths
of Edinburgh and Clyde, into which the rivers Glotta
>87 ] AGE
and Bodotria discharge themselves 5 and here he built
fortresses to shut up the nations yet unconquered. In
is iifu, he marched beyond the friths; where he
made some new acquisitions, and fixed garrisons along
the western coasts, over against Ireland. In his sixth
campaign he passed the river Bodotria ; ordering his
1 eet, the first which the Romans ever had in those
parts, to row along the coasts, and take a view of the
northern parts. In the following spring, the Britons
raised an army of 30,000 men; and the command was
given to Galgacus, who, according to Tacitus, made
an excellent speech to his countrymen on this occasion.
Agncola likewise addressed his men in very strong and
eloquent terms. The Romans gained the victory, and
10,000 of the Britons are said to have been killed.
j. bis happened in the reign of the emperor Homitian ;
who, growing jealous of the glory of Agricola, recall¬
ed him, under pretence of making him governor of
Syria. Agricola died soon after; and his death is su¬
spected to have been occasioned by poison given him
by that emperor. Tacitus the historian married his
daughter, wrote his life, and laments his death in the
most pathetic manner.
Agricola, George, a German physician, famous
tor his skill in metals. He was born at Glaucha, in
Misnia, the 24th of March 1494. The discoveries
which he made hi the mountains of Bohemia, gave him
so great a desire of examining accurately into everv
thing relating to metals, that though he had engaged
in the practice of physic at Joachimstal by advice of
his friends, he still prosecuted his study of fossils with
great assiduity; and at length removed to Chemnitz,
where he entirely devoted himself to this study. He
spent in pursuit of it the pension he had of Maurice
duke of Saxony, and part of his own estate; so that he
reaped more reputation than profit from his labours. He
wrote several pieces upon this and other subjects; and
died at Chemnitz the 21st of November 1555, a very
firm Papist. In his younger years he seemed not averse
to the Protestant doctrine ; and he highly disapproved
of the scandalous traffic of indulgences, and several
other things in the church of Rome. The following
hues of his were posted up in the streets of Zwickaw,
in the year 1519 ?
Si nos injecta salvebit Vistula nvmmo,
Heu nimium infelix tu mihi, pauper, eris !
Si nos, Christe, tua servatos morte bedsti,
.7 um nihil in mihi, pauper, eris.
If wealth alone salvation can procure,
How sad a state for ever waits the poor !
But if thou, Christ, our only saviour be,
1 hy merits still may bless ev’n poverty !
In the latter part of his life, however, he had attacked
the Protestant religion t which rendered him so odious
to the Lutherans, that they suffered his body to remain
unburied for five days together; so that it was obliged
to he removed from Chemnitz to Zeits, where it was
interred in the principal church.
Agricola, John, a Saxon divine, born at Eisleben
in 1492. He went as chaplain to Count Mansfield,
when that nobleman attended the elector of Saxony to
the diet at Spire in 1526, and that of Augsburg in 1530,
He was of a restless, ambitious temper, rivalled and
wrote
A G R - [ 288 ] A G R
Ajmcftla. wrote against Melancthon, and gave Count Mansfeld
i-y 11 J occasion to reproach him severely. Pie obtained a pro¬
fessorship at Wittemberg, where he taught particular
doctrines, and became founder of the sect of Antino-
mians ; which occasioned warm disputes between him
and Luther, who had before been his very good friend.
But though he was never able to recover the favour
either of the elector of Saxony or of Luther, he receiv- AgricoJ
ed some consolation from the fame he acquired at Ber- -y-*
lin : where he became preacher at court j and was cho¬
sen in 1 548, in conjunction with Julius Phlug and
Michael Heldingus, to compose the famous Interim,
which made so much noise in the world. He died at
Berlin in 1566.
AGRICULTURE.
Definitiou. A GBICULTUItE in general, or in the abstract,
may be defined to be, The art of making the
earth to produce in large quantities, and in the great¬
est perfection of which their nature is capable, those
2 vegetables which are necessary to the subsistence, or
Differs from useful for the accommodation of mankind. Agricul-
gardening. £ure dJfl’gj.g fr0m gardening in this respect, that the
gardener is chiefly occupied in rearing small quantities
of the nicer and more delicate vegetables, which are
rather valued as objects of luxury than as articles of
food j whereas the agriculturist labours upon a larger
scale, with a view to supply himself and his countrymen
3 with the necessaries of life.
Is a sepa- In civilized societies, agriculture, or the cultivation
rate art. 0f t]ie gojj^ becomes a separate business or employ¬
ment j and agriculturists, or the persons engaged in
agriculture, receive the appellation of farmers or hus¬
bandmen.
Includes the To enable the agriculturist or liusbandman to con-
rearing of duct his business with success, it is necessary that he
eattle. should not confine his attention to the mere cultiva¬
tion of the soil, or the rearing of vegetables. The
vegetables which are capable of affording a comfort¬
able subsistence to the human constitution are few in
number j and it has been found by experience, that
they cannot be profitably sown and reproduced year
. after year upon the same spot of ground. Hence it
becomes necessary at times to rear upon it grasses or
other vegetables which are unfit for affording nourish¬
ment to man. But although men cannot eat grass,
they may, nevertheless, contrive to obtain subsistence
from it in an indirect manner. They may give it to
cattle, whose ordinary and natural food it is 5 and hav¬
ing thus, as it were, converted the grass into the flesh
of animals, they can devour these animals ; and in this
way, obtain a richer and more stimulating food than
any vegetable production can possibly aflord : It is
therefore a part of the business of the husbandman to
rear and to feed those animals which are used as food
in the society of which he is a member, that he may
be enabled at all times to derive profit from the poi'-
tion of territory that he cultivates. It is also necessary
towards conducting his operations with success, that he
should rear and feed other animals, not as a source of
human subsistence, but for the sake of the services
which they are capable of aftording j for it has pleased
the beneficent Contriver of this world, to place upon
it beings of a subordinate nature, capable of assisting
mankind in their labours, without being degraded by
the state of servitude in which they are placed. To the
cultivators of the soil, these animals, from their strength
and patience of labour, are particularly useful, and
even absolutely necessary in our cold and barren cli¬
mates. They must therefore be fed and lodged with
the greatest care. . 1
Hence the employment of the husbandman is of anlrapomnj
extensive nature, requiring much foresight, and a consi-ot the »itj
derable knowledge of the relations that subsist between
the most important objects in nature—the soil, the sea¬
sons, the animals, and the plants, so far as they are con¬
nected with the subsistence of mankind. It is by bring¬
ing to perfection this art that man becomes truly the
lord of t!;e universe. He subdues by his operations
every part of the surface of the earth, and acquires over
the animals which inhabit it, a solid right of dominion
or of property, in consequence of having reared, and
afforded them subsistence by his 'skill and his labour.
He uses them indeed as food 5 but before he can do so,
he must first bestow upon them subsistence, attend to
their multiplication, and to their health and welfare.
As they possess no foresight, the purpose to which they
are destined is to them no evil.
It is only in proportion to the degree in which this
important art of agriculture has flourished, that nations
have been, or ever can be, permanently prosperous.
Every improvement that is made in it is a moral bene¬
fit conferred upon mankind j for by increasing the quan¬
tity of human food, or facilitating the production of
it, one of two things must always happen : Either the
number of our species will be increased, that is to say,
a greater multitude of rational and intelligent beings
will exist in the creation 5 or a greater number of those
who already exist, will find leisure for the improvement
of their intellectual characters by studying and carry¬
ing to perfection the sciences and arts. Thus, the
strength of nations is increased in proportion to the
degree in which their soil is skilfully cultivated, and
their independence is secured by finding upon the spot
which they inhabit all that is necessary for their sub¬
sistence. 6
It is a fortunate circumstance, that the art of theltsadwi
husbandman, which is the foundation of all others, and at tag64 w,
all times indispensable to human existence, is in everytl10*^
respect conducive to the welfare of those engaged in it.
The practice of it bestows health upon the body ; and
by the variety of occupations which it affords, it also
bestows a considerable degree of reflection upon the
minds of the lowest pei'sons occupied in it 5 while, at '
the same time, it prevents their acquiring that spirit
of artifice and cunning, which in all countries is apt
to degrade the character of those engaged in the in¬
ferior branches of commercial employment. Nor does
it fail, in all ranks and conditions of life, to produce a
more candid and liberal character than ahy other em¬
ployment,
listory.
AGRICULTURE.
7
ployment. No British husbandman has ever refused
or even hesitated to allow to be communicated to the
public every branch o{ his art, and every improvement
which he and his forefathers may have made in it j
whereas, in all the branches of manufacture or of com¬
merce, every transaction, as far as possible, is covered
with a mysterious veil of secrecy, and every improve¬
ment, as far as possible, is concealed by its inventor, and
sometimes undoubtedly perishes with him.
Ihe antiquity of this art is undoubtedly beyond
that of all others j for we are informed by Scripture,
that Adam was sent from the garden of Eden, to till
the ground; and, this being the case, he certainly
must have known how to do so.—It would be ridicu¬
lous, however, to imagine that he was acquainted with
all the methods of plowing, harrowing, fallowing,
&c. which are now made use of; and it would be
equally so to suppose, that he used such clumsy and
unartful instruments as wooden hooks, horns of oxen,
&c, to dig the ground, which were afterwards employ¬
ed for this purpose by certain savages ; but as we know
nothing of the particular circumstances in which he was
situated, we can know as little concerning his method
of agriculture.
The prodigious length of life which the antedilu¬
vians enjoyed, must have been very favourable to the
advancement of arts and sciences, especially agriculture,
to which it behoved them to apply themselves in a par¬
ticular manner, in order to procure their subsistence.
It is probable, therefore, that even in the antediluvian
world, arts and sciences had made great progress, nay,
might be farther advanced in some respects than they
are at present. Of this, however, we can form no
judgment, as there are no histories of those times, and
the Scripture gives us very slight hints concerning
these matters.
No doubt, by the terrible catastrophe of the flood,
which overwhelmed the whole world, many sciences
would be entirely lost, and agriculture would suffer j as
it was impossible that Noah or his children could put
in practice, or perhaps know, all the different methods
of cultivating the ground that were formerly used. The
common methods, however, we cannot but suppose to
have been known to him and his children, and by them
transmitted to their posterity ; so that as long as man¬
kind continued in one body without being dispersed
into different nations, the arts, agriculture especially,
would necessarily advance ; and that they did so, is evi¬
dent from the undertaking of the tower of Babel. It is
from the dispersion of mankind consequent upon the
confusion of tongues, that we must date the origin of
savage nations. In all societies where different arts are
cultivated, there are some persons who have a kind of
general knowledge of most of those practised through
the whole society, while others are in a manner ignorant
of every one of them. If we suppose a few people of
understanding to separate from the rest, and become the
founders of a nation, it will probably be a civilized
one,, and the arts will begin to flourish from its very
origin ; but, if a nation is founded by others whose
intellects are in a manner callous to every human science
(and of this kind there are many in the most learned
countries), the little knowledge or memory of art that
was among the original founders will be lost, and such
a people will continue in a state of barbarism for many
> OL. I. Part I. f
ages, unless the arts be brought to them from other
nations.
I iom this, or similar causes, all nations of equal an¬
tiquity have not byen equally savage, nor is there any
solid reason for concluding that all nations were origi¬
nally unskilled in agriculture ; though, as we know not
the original instruments of husbandry used by mankind
when living in one society, we cannot fix the date of
the improvements in this art. Different nations have
always been in a different state of civilization : and a-
gnculture, as well as other arts, has always been in dif¬
ferent degrees of improvement among different nations
at the same time.
Fiom the earliest accounts of the eastern nations, we
have reason to think, that agriculture has at all times
been understood by them in considerable perfection :
seeing they were always supplied not only with the ne¬
cessaries, but the greatest luxuries of life.
. 80011 as the descendants of Abraham were settled
in Palestine, they generally became husbandmen, from
the chiefs of the tribe of Judah to the lowest branch of
the family of Benjamin. High rank or birth did not
at that time make any distinction, for agriculture was
considered as the most honourable of all employments:
witness the illustrious examples of Gideon, Saul, and
David.
The Chaldeans, who inhabited the country where
agriculture had its birth, carried that valuable art to a
degree of excellence unknown in former times. They
cultivated their lands with great assiduity, and seem to
have found out some means of restoring fertility to an
exhausted soil, by having plentiful harvests in succes¬
sion ; on which account they were not obliged, as their
predecessors had been, to change their situations, in or¬
der to obtain a sufficiency for themselves and their nu¬
merous flocks and herds.
The Egyptians, who from the natural fertility of
their country by the overflowing of the Nile, raised
every year vast quantities of corn, were so sensible of
the blessings resulting from agriculture, that they ascri¬
bed the invention of that art to Osiris. They also re¬
garded Isis, their second deity, as the discoverer of the
the use of wheat and barley, which before grew wild irt
the fields, and were not applied by that people to the
purposes of food. Their superstitious gratitude was car¬
ried so far, as to worship those animals which were em¬
ployed in tillage, and even the produce of their lands,
as leeks, onions, &c.
l he divine honours paid to Bacchus in India were
derived from the same source, he being considered in
that country as the inventor of planting vineyards, and
the other arts attendant upon agriculture.
It is also related of the ancient Persians, on the most
respectable authority, that their kings laid aside their
grandeur once every month to eat with husbandmen.
Th.is is a striking instance of the high estimation in
which they held agriculture } for at that time arts were
practised among that people in great perfection, parti¬
cularly those of weaving, needle-work, and embroidery.
The precepts of their religion taught by their ancient
magi, or priests, included the practice of agriculture.
The saint among them was obliged to work out his sal¬
vation by pursuing all the labours of agriculture : And
it was a maxim of the Zendavesta, that he who sows
the ground with care and diligence, acquires a greater
O o degres
2S9
290 A G R I C U
degree of religions merit, than lie could have gained by
the repetition of ten thousand prayers.
The Phoenicians, so well known in Scripture by the
name of Philistines, were also remarkable for their at¬
tention to and skill in agriculture. But finding them¬
selves too much disturbed and confined by the incursions
and conquests of the Israelites, they spread themselves
throughout the greatest part of the Mediterranean
islands, and carried with them their knowledge in the
arts of cultivation.
Mago, a famous general of the Carthaginians, is
said to have written no less than 28 books on the sub¬
ject $ which Columella tells us were translated into
Latin by the express order of the Roman senate. We
are informed by the ancient writers, that Ceres was
born in Sicily, where she first invented the arts of til¬
lage and of sowing corn. For this essential service,
she was, agreeably to the superstition of those ages,
deified and worshipped as the goddess of plenty. The
truth of this is, that, in the time of Ceres, the island,
through her endeavours and the industry* of the people,
became very fruitful in corn ; and agriculture was there
esteemed so honourable an employment, that even their
kings did not disdain to practise it with their own
. hands.
But time, which at first gave birth to arts, often
caused them to be forgotten when they were removed
from the place of their origin. The descendants of
Noah, who settled in Europe, doubtless carried their
knowledge of agriculture with them into the regions
which they successively occupied. But those who took
possession of Greece were such an uncivilized race, that
they fed on roots, herbs, and acorns, after the manner
of beasts. Pelasgus had taught them the culture of
the oak, and the use of acorns as food j for which
service, we are told, divine honours were paid him by
the people.
The Athenians, who were the first people that ac¬
quired any tincture of politeness, taught the use of corn
to the rest of the Greeks. They also instructed them
how to cultivate the ground, and to prepare it for the
reception of the seed. This art, we are told, was
taught them by Triptolemus. The Greeks soon per¬
ceived that bread was more wholesome, and its taste
more delicate, than that of acorns and the wild roots of
the fields; accordingly they thanked the gods for such
an unexpected and beneficial present, and honoured
their benefactor.
As the arts of cultivation increased, and the bles¬
sings they afforded became generally experienced, the
people soon preferred them to whatever the ravages of
conquest, and the cruel depredations of savage life,
could procure. And accordingly we find, that the
Athenian kings, thinking it more glorious to govern a
small state wisely, than to aggrandise themselves, and
enlarge the extent of their dominions by foreign con¬
quest, withdrew their subjects from war, and mostly
employed them in cultivating the earth. Thus, by
continued application, they brought agriculture to a
considerable degree of perfection, and soon reduced it to
an art.
Hesiod was the first we know of among the Greeks
who wrote on this interesting subject. According to
the custom of the oriental authors, he wrote in poetry,
And embellished his poem with luxuriant description
L T U R E. Histor
and sublime imagery. He calls his poem Hrot'ks and
Days, because agriculture requires exact observations
on times and seasons.
Xenophon has also, in his Oeconomics, remarked,
that agriculture is the nursing mother of the arts. For,
says he, “ where agriculture succeeds prosperously,
there the arts thrive; but where the earth necessarily
lies uncultivated, there the other arts are destroyed.”
Other eminent Greek writers upon agriculture were,
Democritus of Abdera, Socraticus, Archytas Taren-
tinus, Aristotle, and Theophrastus, from whom the art
received considerable improvements.
The ancient Romans esteemed agriculture so honour¬
able an employment, that the most illustrious senators
of the empire, in the intervals of public concerns, ap¬
plied themselves to this profession ; and such was the
simplicity of those ages, that they assumed no appear¬
ance of magnificence and splendour, or of majesty, but
when they appeared in public. At their return from
the toils of war, the taking of cities, and the subduing
of hostile nations, their greatest generals were impatient
till they were again employed in the arts of cultiva¬
tion.
Regulus, when in Africa, requested of the senate
to be recalled, lest his farm might suffer, for want of
proper cultivation, in his absence, and the senate wrote
him for answer, that it should be taken care of at the
public ex pence, while he continued to lead their ar¬
mies.
Cato the censor, after having governed extensive
provinces, and subdued many w’arlike nations, did not
think it below his dignity to write a Treatise on Agri¬
culture. This work (as we are told by Servius) he
dedicated to his own son, it being the first Latin trea¬
tise written on this important subject; and it has been
handed down to us in all its purity', in the manner that
Cato wrote it.
Yarro composed a treatise on the same subject, and
on a more regular plan. This work is embellished
with all the Greek and Latin erudition of that learned
author, who died 28 years before the commencement
of the Christian sera. Virgil who lived about the same
time, has, in his Georgies, adorned this subject with
the language of the Muses, and finely illustrated the
precepts and rules of husbandry left by Hesiod, Mago,
and Varro.
Columella, who flourished in the reign of the empe¬
ror Claudius, wrote 12 books on husbandry, replete
with important instruction.
From this period to that of the reign of Constantine
Poganatus, husbandry continued in a declining state ;
but that wise emperor caused a large collection of the
most useful precepts relating to agriculture to be ex¬
tracted from the best writers, and published them un¬
der the title of Geopanics. It has been asserted, that he
made this collection with his own hand ; and the truth
of the assertion is not improbable, as it is well known
that after he had conquered the Saracens and Arabians^
he not only practised and encouraged, but studied the
arts of peace, fixing his principal attention on agricul¬
ture as their best foundation.
After the death of Constantine, however, the in¬
creasing attention of the people to commerce, and the
ignorance and gross superstition of the ages which suc-
ceededj seem to have rendered agriculture an almost ne¬
glected
listory. A G R I C U
glected science. T. he irruptions of the northern na¬
tions soon abolished any improved system. These innu¬
merable and enterprising barbarians, who overran all
Europe, were originally shepherds or hunters, like the
present Tartars and the savages of America. They
contented themselves with possessing, without labour or
trouble, those vast countries rendered deserts by their
own ravages, cultivating only a very small spot near
their habitations 5 and in this trifling husbandry only
the meanest slaves were employed : so that the art itself,
which formerly was thought worthy of the study of
kings, was now looked upon as mean and ignoble ; a
prejudice which is scarcely effaced at present, or at least
but very lately.—During this period, therefore, we find
no vestiges of any thing tolerably written on the sub¬
ject. No new attempts were made to revive it, or to
improve it, till the year 1478, when Crescenzio pub¬
lished an excellent performance on the subject at Flo¬
rence. This roused the slumbering attention of his
countrymen, several of whom soon followed his example.
Among these Tatti, Stephano Augustino Gallo, Sanso¬
vino, Lauro, and Tarello, deserve particular notice.
From the fall of the Roman empire, till the revival
of learning in the fifteenth century, little is known of
the state of agriculture in any part of Europe j and
even that little must be gleaned from the incidental no¬
tices of historians, who were too much occupied in re¬
cording the achievements of war, with the rude policy
and intestine broils of their respective countries, to
give much attention to the peaceful, and at that time
degraded, labours of the husbandman. The policy of
the feudal system, the distribution of society which it
occasioned, and the perpetual dissensions and petty
hostilities which it engendered, furnish the best evi¬
dence of the low state of an art which can flourish only
under the protection of law, and be carried on with
success only by the energy of free men. But, during
this long interval, the population of Europe was divided
into two great classes, of which by far the larger one
was composed of bondmen, without property, or the
power of acquiring it, and small tenants, very little
superior to bondmen ; and the other class, consisting
chiefly of the great barons and their retainers, was more
frequently employed in laying waste the fields of their
rivals than in improving their own. The superstition of
the times, which destined a large portion of the country
to the support of the church, and which, in some mea¬
sure, secured it from predatory incursions, was the
principal source of what little skill and industry were
then displayed in the cultivation of the soil. “ If we
consider the ancient state of Europe,” says Mr Hume,
(a) “ we shall find that the far greater part of the so¬
ciety were every where bereaved of their personal
liberty, and lived entirely at the will of their masters.
Every one that was not noble was a slave ; the peasants
were sold along with the land j the few inhabitants of
cities were not in a better condition ; even the gentry
themselves were subjected to a long train of subordi¬
nation under the greater barons, or chief vassals of the
L T U R E.
crown, who, though seemingly placed in a high state
oi splendour, yet, having but a slender protection from
law, were exposed to every tempest of the state, and
by the precarious condition in which they lived, paid
dearly for the power of oppressing and tyrannizing over
heir inferiors.—The villains were entirely occupied
in the cultivation of their master’s land, and paid their
rents either in corn and cattle, and other produce of
the farm, or in servile offices, which they performed
about the baron’s family, and upon farms which he re¬
tained m his own possession. In proportion as agri¬
culture improved, and money increased, it was found
that these services, though extremely burdensome to the
villain, were of little advantage to the master ; and
that the produce of a large estate could be much more
conveniently disposed of by the peasants themselves
who raised it, than by the landlord or his bailiff, who
were formerly accustomed to receive it. A commuta¬
tion was, therefore, made of rents for services, and of
money-rents for those in kind $ and as men in a subse¬
quent age discovered, that farms wese better cultivated
where the farmer enjoyed security in his possession, the
practice of granting leases to the peasant began to
prevail, which entirely broke the bonds of servitude,
aheady much relaxed from the former practices. The
latest laws which we find in England, for enforcing or
regulating this species of servitude, were enacted in the
reign of Henry VII. And though the antient sta¬
tutes on this subject remain still unrepealed by Parlia¬
ment, it appears, that before the end of Elizabeth, the
distinction between villain and free-man, was totally,
though insensibly, abolished j and that no person re¬
mained in the state, to whom the former laws could be
applied.”
But, long before the fifteenth century, it is certain
that there was a class of tenants, holding on leases for
lives, or for a term of years, and paying a rent in land
produce, in services, or in money. Whether they gra¬
dually sprung up from the class of bondmen, according
to Lord Karnes, (b) or existed from the earliest period
of the feudal constitution, according to other writers, (c)
their number cannot be supposed to have been consider¬
able during the middle _ ages. The stock which these
tenants employed in cultivation, commonly belonged to
the proprietor, who received a proportion of the produce
as rent;—a system, which still exists in France, where
such tenants are called metayers, and some vestiges of
which may yet be traced in the steel-bow of the law of
Scotland. Leases of the 13th century still remain j (n)
and both the laws and chartularies, (e) clearly prove
the existence in Scotland, of a class of cultivator's, dis¬
tinct from the serfs or bondmen. Yet the condition of
these tenants seems to have been very different from
that of the tenants of the present day; and the lease
approached nearer in its form to a feu-charter, than to
the mutual agreement now in use. It was of the na¬
ture of a beneficiary grant by the proprietor, under
certain conditions, and for a limited period : the consent
of the tenant seems never to have been .doubted. In
O 0 2 the
(a) History of England, chap. 23. (B) Karnes’s Law Tracts.
rf .8 Treatise on Leases. (d) Sir John Cullum’s History and Antiquities of Hawsted (Suffolk).
(e) Chalmers’s Caledonia, Book 4. chap. 6. ’ \ *
291
AGRICULTURE.
the common expression, granting a lease, we have re¬
tained an idea of the original character of the deed even
to the present time.
The corn crops cultivated during this period seem to
have been of the same species, though all of them pro¬
bably much inferior in quality to what they are in the
present day. Wheat, the most valuable grain, must
have borne a small proportion, at least in Britain, to
that of other crops 5 the remarkable fluctuation of
price; its extreme scarcity, indicated by the extrava¬
gant rate at which it was sometimes sold j as well as
the preparatory cultivation required, may convince us,
that its consumption was confined to the higher orders,
and that its growth was by no means extensive, llye
and oats furnished the bread and drink of the great
body of the people of Europe. Cultivated herbage and
roots were then unknown in the agriculture of Britain.
Jt was not till the end of the reign of Henry VIII.
that any salads, carrots, or other edible roots, were
produced in England. The little of these vegetables
that was used, was formerly imported from Holland
and Flanders. Queen Catherine, when she wanted a
salad, was obliged to despatch a messenger thither on
purpose (f).
The ignorance and insecurity of those ages, which
necessarily confined the cultivation of corn to a com¬
paratively small portion of country, left all the rest of
it in a state of nature, to be depastured by the inferior
animals, then only occasionally subjected to the care
and controul of man. Cultivators were crowded to¬
gether in miserable hamlets; the ground contiguous
Was kept continually under tillage; and beyond this,
wastes and woodlands of much greater extent were ap¬
propriated to the maintenance of their flocks and herds,
which pastured indiscriminately with little attention
from their owners.
The low price of butcher meat, though it was then
the food of the common people, when compared with
the price of corn, has been justly noticed by several
writers, as a decisive proof of the small progress of ci¬
vilization and industry.
At what time agriculture was introduced into Bri¬
tain is uncertain. When Julius Caesar first invaded
this island, it was not wholly unknown. That con¬
queror was of opinion, that agriculture was first intro¬
duced by some of those colonies from Gaul which had
settled in the southern parts of Britain, about 100 years
* Ccnar & before the Roman invasion*.
Jictl. Gall. It is not to be expected that we can now be acquaint-
M>. ▼. c. n. ed with many of the practices of these ancient husband¬
men. It appears, however, that they were not unac¬
quainted with the use of manures, particularly marl.
! P&7*. Ifaf. This we have on the authority of Pliny f, who tells us,
Hot that it was peculiar to the people of Gaul and of Bri-
**** 9* tain y that its effects continued 80 years j and that no
man was ever known to marl his field twice, &.c.—It
is, highly probable, too, that lime was at this time also
used as a manure in Britain, it being certainly made
use of in Gaul for this purpose at the time of Julius
tfSesar’s invasion.
The establishment of the Romans in Britain produ-
Histor
ced great improvements in agriculture, insomuch that
prodigious quantities of corn were annually exported
from the island j but when the Roman power began to
decline, this, like all the other arts, declined also, and
was almost totally destroyed by the departure of that
people. The unhappy Britons were now exposed to
frequent incursions of the Scots and Piets, who destroy¬
ed the fruits of their labours, and interrupted them in
the exercise of their art. After the arrival of the Sax¬
ons in the year 449, they were involved in such long
wars, and underwent so many calamities, that the hus¬
bandmen gradually lost much of their skill, and were at
last driven from those parts of their country which were
most proper for cultivation.
After the Britons retired into Wales, though it ap¬
pears from the laws made relative to this art, that agri¬
culture was thought worthy of the attention of the le¬
gislature, yet their instruments appear to have been very
unartful. It was enacted that no man should undertake
to guide a plough who could not make one j and that
the driver should make the ropes of twisted willows,
with which it was drawn. It was usual for six or eight
persons to form themselves into a society for fitting out
one of these ploughs, providing it with oxen and every
thing necessary for ploughing j and many minute and
curious laws were made for the regulation of such so¬
cieties. If any person laid dung on a field with the
consent of the proprietor, he was by law allowed the
use of that land for one year. If the dung was carried
out in a cart in great abundance, he was to have the
use of the land for three years. Whoever cut down a
wood, and converted the ground into arable, with the
consent of the owner, was to have the use ef it for five
years. If any one folded his cattle, for one year, upon
a piece of ground belonging to another, with the own¬
er’s consent, he was allowed the use of that field for
five years.
Thus, though the Britons had in a great measure
lost the knowledge of agriculture, they appear to have
been very assiduous in giving encouragement to such a*
would attempt a revival of it; but among the Anglo-
Saxons, things were not at present in so good a state-
These restless and haughty warriors, having contract¬
ed a distaste and contempt for agriculture, were at
pains to enact laws to prevent its being followed by any
other than women and slaves. When they first arrived
in Britain, they had no occasion for this art, being
supplied by the natives with all the necessaries of life.
After the commencement of hostilities, the Saxon#
subsisted chiefly by plunder: but having driven out or
extirpated most of the ancient Britons, and divided
their lands among themselves, they found themselves in
danger of starving, there being now no enemy to plun¬
der j and therefore they were obliged to apply to agri¬
culture.
The Saxon princes and great men, who, in the divi¬
sion of the lands, had received the greatest shares, are
said to have subdivided their estates, into two parts,
which were called the in-lands and the out-lands. The
in-lands were those which lay most contiguous to the
mansion-house of their owner, which he kept in hi#
own
(f) Hume’s History of England, cbpp. 23.
393
istory.
AGRICULTURE.
own possession, and cultivated by his slaves, under the
direction of a bailiff, for the purpose of raising pro¬
visions for the family. The out-lands were those at a
greater distance from the house, and were let to the
ceorls, or farmers of those times, at very moderate
rents. By the laws of Ina king of the West Saxons,
who reigned in the end of the seventh and beginning
of the eighth ceutury, a farm consisting of ten hides,
or plough-lands, was to pay the following rent: “ Ten
casks of honey j three hundred loaves of bread ; twelve
casks of strong ale j thirty casks of small ale ; two
oxen ; ten wedders 5 ten geese j twenty hens j ten
cheeses-, one cask of butter; five salmon; twenty pounds
of forage; and one hundred eels.” From this low
rent, the imperfection of agriculture at that time is
easily discoverable ; but it is still more so from the low
prices at which land was then sold. In the ancient
history of the church of Ely, published by Dr Gale,
there are accounts of many purchases of lands by iEdel-
wold the founder of that church, and by other bene¬
factors, in the reign of Edgar the Peaceable, in the
tenth century. By a comparison of these accounts it
appears, that the ordinary price of an acre of the best
land in that part of England, in those times, was no
more than 16 Saxon pennies, or about four shillings of
our money: a very trifling price, even in comparison
with that of other commodities at the same time : for, by
comparing other accounts, it appears, that four sheep
were then equal in value to an acre of the best land,
and one horse of the same value with three acres. The
frequent and deplorable famines which afflicted Eng¬
land about this time, are further instances of the wretch¬
ed state of agriculture. In 1043, a quarter of wheat
sold for 60 Saxon pennies (15 of our shillings), at that
time eqpal in value to seven or eight pounds of our mo¬
ney now.
The invasion of the Normans in 1066, contributed
very much to the improvement of agriculture ; for, by
that event, many thousands of husbandmen from Flan¬
ders, France, and Normandy, settled in Britain, ob¬
tained estates or farms, and cultivated them after the
manner of their country. The implements of husband¬
ry, used at this time, were of the same kind with those
employed at present ; but some of them were less per¬
fect in their construction. The plough, for example,
had but one stilt or handle, which the ploughman
guided with one hand, having in his other hand an in¬
strument which served both for cleaning and mending
the plough, as well as for breaking the clods. The
Norman plough had two wheels ; and in the light soil
of Normandy, was commonly drawn by one or two
oxen; but, in England, a greater number was often
necessary. In Wales, the person who conducted the
oxen in the plough walked backwards. Their carts,
harrows, scythes, sickles, and flails, from the figures
of them still remaining, appear to have been nearly of
the same construction with those that are now used. In
Wales they did not use a sickle for reaping their corns,
bnt an instrument like the blade of a knife, with a
wooden handle at each end.—Their chief manure, next
to dung, seems still to have been marl., Summer-faJ-
lowing of lands designed for wheat, and ploughing them
several times, appear to have been frequent practices of
the English farmers in this period*
01 the state of agriculture in England, we mav
obtain a nearer view, by shortly adverting to some of
the lavvs from the Conquest, down to the beginning of
the reign of Henry VII. in 1485, when the feudal
system, which had been gradually falling into decay,
was almost dissolved in that country*
One ol the earliest and greatest grievances, was
the levying of purveyance. This originally compre¬
hended the necessary provisions, carriages, &c. which
the nearest farmers were obliged to furnish to the king’s
armies at the current prices; and to his houses and
castles in time of war. It was called the great purvey¬
ance, and the officers who collected those necessaries
were called purveyors. The smaller purveyance in¬
cluded the necessary provisions and carriages for the
king’s household, when living at home, or travelling
through the kingdom, which the tenants on the king’s
demesne lands were obliged to furnish gratis ; and the
practice came to be adopted by the barons and great
men, in every tour which they thought proper to make
in the country. These exactions were so grievous, and
levied in so licentious a manner, that the farmers,
when they heard of the court’s approach, often deserted
their houses, as if the country had been invaded by an
enemy. “Purveyance,”saysDirom,(g) “was, perhaps,
for many centuries, the chief obstruction to the agri¬
culture and improvement of Great Britain. Many laws
were made for the reformation and regulation oipur¬
veyance, but without effect; and the practice continued
down to so late a period as the reign of James the First:.”
The home trade in corn and other products was re¬
strained, by acts against forestallers in 1360, and at se¬
veral subsequent periods. For many years after the Con¬
quest, the greater part of the trade of England was car¬
ried on in markets and fairs ; and a very considerable
part of the revenue of the crown arose from the duties
payable to the king upon the goods brought to them far
sale. The barons had also tolls at the fairs within their
respective jurisdictions. When farmers and merchants
were bringing their corn and other necessaries to be sold
there, they were sometimes met on the way by persona,
who purchased their commodities in order to retail
them at a higher price. Thus, the king and the lord
of the manor, lost the several duties payable to them ;
and the price, it was thought, was at the same timi
raised to the inhabitants. Such were the original fore¬
stallers, who were subjected by several statutes to se¬
vere penalties. This crime of forestalling, and the
kindred ones of regrating and ingrossing, were care¬
fully defined, and the different degrees of punishment
specified, in a new statute in 1552, to he afterwards
noticed. An early law of 1266, for regulating the as¬
size of bread and ale, furnishes a clear proof of the
little intercourse that must have subsisted at that time
between town and country. “ Brewers in cities,” says
the statute, “ may well afford to sell two gallons of
beer or ale for a penny, and out af cities three or four
gallons for a penny.”
Several
(G) Inquiry into the Corn Laws.
294
AGRICULTURE. Hist,
Several laws were made in the 14th and 15th cen¬
turies, permitting the exportation of grain, when the
price of wheat did not exceed six shillings and eight-
pence a quarter j and in 1463 importation was pro¬
hibited when the price was lower. The last statute,
however, was little attended to, and foreign grain was
admitted as before ; while the state of the country, and
the restrictions on internal commerce, scarcely permit¬
ted any advantage to be derived from the acts allow¬
ing exportation.
In the elaborate work of Mr Chalmers already re¬
ferred to, a great many valuable notices are collected
regarding the husbandry of Scotland during these ages.
It is evident from his researches, that the progress of
cultivation, in the 13th century, had been greater than
we should have expected from the turbulence of the
times, and the comparatively rude and uncivilized state
of society. Purveyance, and other obstructions to im¬
provement, were nearly the same in Scotland as in Eng¬
land ; the laws regarding the corn trade appear in some
instances to have been copied from those of England ;
and in the northern, as in the southern part of the island,
the clergy were by far the most skilful and industrious
husbandmen.
Yet it is difficult to reconcile the idea of any consi¬
derable improvement, particularly in so far as regards
the extensive cultivation of wheat, (which Mr Chalmers
infers from the authorities he quotes), w'ith an act pass¬
ed in 1426, which ordained every husbandmen, tilling
with a plough of eight oxen, to sow at least a firlot
(little more than a Winchester bushel) of wheat, and
half a firlot of pease, with a proportion of beans 5 or
with the state of the districts where wheat is said to
have been extensively grown, only a few years ago.
By statute 1449, the tenant was for the first time
secured in possession during the term of his lease, against
a purchaser of the land ; and in 1469? he was protected
from having his property carried oil for the landlord’s
debts, beyond the amount of rent actually due ; a sta¬
tute which proves his miserable condition before that
time.
Soon after the beginning of the 16th century, agri¬
culture partook of the general improvement which fol¬
lowed the invention of the art of printing, the revival
of literature, and the more settled authority of govern¬
ment $ and, instead of the occasional notices of histo¬
rians, we can now refer to regular treatises, written
by men who engaged eagerly in this neglected, and
hitherto degraded, occupation. We shall therefore give
a short account of the principal works, as well as of the
laws and general policy of Britain in regard to agri¬
culture, from the early part of the 16th century to the
llevolution in 1688, when a new era commenced in the
legislation of corn, and soon after in the practice of the
cultivator.
The first, and by far the best of our early works, is
The Book of Husbandry, printed in I534> commonly
ascribed to Fitzherbert, a Judge of the Common Pleas
in the reign of Henry VIII. This was followed, in
1539> bY of Surveying and Improvements, by
the same author. In the former treatise we have a clear
and minute description of the rural practices of that pe¬
riod j and from the latter may be learned a good deal
of the economy of the feudal system in its decline. The
Book of Husbandry has scarcely been excelled by any
later production, in as far as concerns the subjects of
which it treats j for at that time, cultivated herbage
and edible roots were still unknown in England. The
author writes from his own experience of more than
forty years j and, if we except his biblical allusions,
and one or two vestiges of the superstition of the Ro¬
man Avriters about the influence of the moon, there is
very little of this valuable work that should be omitted,
and not a great deal that need be added, in so far as
regards the culture of corn, in a manual of husbandry
adapted even to the present time. Fitzherbert touches
on almost every department of the art 5 and, in about
a hundred octavo pages, has contrived to condense
more practical information, than will be found scattered
through as many volumes of later times j and yet he is
minute even to an extreme on points of real utility.
There is no reason to say, with Mr Hai te, that he had
revived the husbandry of the Romans ; he merely de¬
scribes the practices of the age in which he lived j and
from his commentary on the old statute extenta manerii,
in his Book of Surveying, in which be does not allude to
any recent improvements, it is probable that the ma¬
nagement which he details had been long established.
But it may surprise some of the agriculturists of the
present day to be told, that, after the lapse of almost
three centuries, Fitzherbert’s practice, in some material
branches, has not been improved upon j and that in se¬
veral districts abuses still exist, which were as clearly
pointed out by him at that early period, as by any writer
of the present age.
The Book of Husbandry begins with the plough, and
other instruments, which are concisely and particularly
described j and then about a third part of it is occupied
with the several operations, as they succeed one another
throughout the year. Among other things in this part
of the work, the following deserve notice. “ Somme
(ploughs) wyll tourn the sheld bredith at every landes
ende, and plorve all one waythe same kind of
plough that is now found so useful on hilly grounds.
Of wheel ploughs, he observes, that “ they be good on
even grounde that lyeth lyghte j” and on such lands
they are still most commonly employed. Cart wheels
were sometimes bound with iron, of which he greatly
approves. On the much agitated question about the
employment of horses or oxen in labour, the most im¬
portant arguments are distinctly stated. “ In somme
places,” he says, “ a horse plough is better,” and in
others an oxen plough, to which, upon the whole, he
gives the preference ; and to this, considering the prac¬
tices of that period, they were probably entitled. Beans
and pease seem to have been common crops. He men¬
tions the different kinds of wheat, barley, and oats;
and, after describing the method of harrowing “ all
maner of cornnes,” we find the roller employed.
“ They use to role theyr barley grounde after a showr
of rayne, to make the ground even to mowe.” Under
the article “ To Falowe,” he observes, “ the greatter
clottes (clods), the better wheate, for the clottes kepe
the wheate warm all wynter 5 and at March they will
melte, and breake and fal in manye small peces, the
whiche is a newe dongynge and refreshynge of the
corne.” This is agreeable to the present practice,
founded on the very same reasons. “ In May, the
shepe folde is to be set out $” but Fitzherbert does not
much approve of folding, and points out its disadvan¬
tages
295
[story. A G R I C
tages in a very judicious manner. “ In the later end
of May, and the begynnynge of June, is tyme to wede
the corneand then we have an accurate description
of the different weeds, and the instruments and mode
of weeding. Next comes a second ploughing of the
fallow; and afterwards, in the latter end of June,
mowing the meadows begins. Of this operation, and of
the forks and rakes, and the haymaking, there is a
very good account. The corn harvest naturally fol¬
lows ; rye and wheat were usually shorn, and barley
and oats cut with the scythe. This intelligent writer
does not approve of the practice, which still prevails in
some places, of cutting wheat high, and then mowing
the stubbles. “ In Somersetshire,” he says, “ they do
shere theyr wheat very lowe ; and the wheate strawe
that they purpose to make thacke of, they do not
threshe it, but cut off the ears, and bind it in sheues,
and call it rede, and therewith they thacke theyr
houses.” He recommends the practice of setting up
corn in shocks, with two sheaves to cover eight, in¬
stead of ten sheaves, as at present; probably owing to
the straw being then shorter. The corn was commonly
housed ; but if there be a want of room, he advises that
the ricks be built on a scaffold, and not upon the
ground. Corn-stacks are now beginning to he built on
pillars and frames. The fallow received.a third plough¬
ing in September, and was sown about Michaelmas.
“ Wheat is moost commonlye sowen under the forowe,
that is to say, cast it uppon the falowe, and then plowe
it under.” And this branch of his subject is concluded
with directions about thrashing, winnowing, and other
kinds of barn-work.
Fitzherbert next proceeds to livestock. “ An hous-
bande,” he says, “ can not well thryue by his corne,
without he haue other cattell, nor bv his cattell, with¬
out corne.—And bycause that shepe, in myne opynyon,
is the mooste profytablest cattell that any man can haue;
therefore I pourpose to speake fyrst of shepe.” His
remarks on this subject are so accurate, that one might
imagine they came from a storemaster of the present
day; and the minutiae which he details are exactly
what the writer of this article has seen practised in the
hilly parts of this country. In some places at present,
“ they neuer seuer their lambes from their dammes ; 
and the poore of the peeke (high) countreye, and such
other places, where, as they vse to mylke theyr ewes,
they vse to wayne theyr lambes at I 2 wekes olde, and
to mylke theyr ewes fiue or syxe wekes ;—but that (he
observes) is greate hurte to the ewes, and wyll cause
them that they will not take the ramme at the tyme of
the yere for pouertye, but goo barreyne.—In June is
tyme to shere shepe *, and ere they be shorne, they
must be verye well washen, the which shall be to the
owner greate profyte in the sale of his wool, and also to
the clothe maker.” It appears that hand-washing was
then a common practice y and yet, in the west and
north of Scotland, at this day, sheep are never washed
at all. His remarks on horses, cattle, &c. are not less
interesting; and there is a very good account of the
diseases of each species, and some just observations on
the advantage of mixing different kinds on the same
pasture. Swine and bees conclude this branch of the
work.
The author then points out the great advantages of
enclosures ; recommends “ quyeksettynge, dychynge,
J L T U R E.
anti hedgeyng ;” and gives particular directions about
the seites, and the method of training a hedge, as well
as concerning the planting and management of trees.
,e ,1ave a short information “for a yonge gen-
tylman that intendeth to thrye;” and “ a prolouge^for
the wiues occupation in some instances rather too
home y lor the present time. Among other things, she
is to make her husband and herself somme clothes
and she maye haue the lockes of the shepe eyther to
make blankettes and couerlettes, or bothe.” This is
not so much amiss; but what follows will bring our
learned judge into disrepute, even with our most indus¬
trious housewives. “ It is a wyues occupation, to wy-
11 owe all maner of cornes, to make malte, to washe and
wrynge, to make heye, shere corne, and, in time of
nede, to helpe her husbande to fyll the mucke wavne
or dounge carte, dryue the ploughe, to loode hey
corne, and suche other. And to go or ride to the mar¬
ket, to sel butter, chese, mylke, egges, chekyns, capons,,
hennes, pygges, gese, and all maner of cornes.” The
rest of the book contains some useful advices about di¬
ligence and economy; and concludes, after the manner
oi the age, with many pious exhortations.
Such is I itzherbert’s Book of Husba7idnj, and such
was the state of agriculture in England in the early
part of the 16th century, and probably for a long time
belore ; for he nowhere speaks of the practices which
he describes or recommends as of recent introduc¬
tion.
The Book of Surveyinge adds considerably to our-
knowledge ol the rural economy of that age. ' “ Four
maner of commens” are described ; several kinds off
mills for corn, and other purposes, and also “ quernes
thau goo with hand ;” different orders of tenants, down
to the “ boundmen,” who “ in some places contynue as
yet;”—“ and many tymes, by colour thereof, there be
many freemen taken as boundmen, and their lands and
goods is taken from them.” Lime and marl are men¬
tioned as common manures ; and the former was some¬
times spread on the surface to destroy heath. Both
draining and irrigation are noticed ; though the latter
but slightly. And the work concludes with an inquiry
“ Howe to make a township that is worth XX. marke
a yere, worth XX. li. a year:” from which we shall
give a specimen of the author’s manner, as well as of
the economy of the age.
“ It is undoubted, that to every towmshyppe that
standeth in tyllage in the playne countrey, there be
errable landes to plowe, and sowe, and leyse to tye or
tedder theyr horses and mares upon, and common pas¬
ture to kepe, and pasture theyr catell, beestes, and
shepe upon. And also they have medowe grounde to
get theyr hey upon. Than to let it be known how many,
acres of errable lande euery man hath in tyllage, and
of the same acres in euery felde to chaunge with his
neyghbours, and to leye them toguyther, and to make
bym one seuerall close in euery felde, for his errable
landes and his leyse in euery felde, to leye them to-
gyther in one felde, and to make one seuerall close for
them alh And also another seuerall close for his por¬
tion of his common pasture, and also his porcion of his
medowe in a seuerall close by itselfe, and al kept in
seueral both in wynter and somer; and euery cottage
shall have his portion assigned hym accordynge to his
rent, and than shall nat the ryche man ouerpresse the
pooce
296
poore man with his cattell, and euery man may eatc
his own close at his pleasure. And vndoubted, that
hay and strawe that will find one beest in the house
wyll finde two beestes in the close, and better they shall
lyke. For those beestis in the house have short heare
and thynne, and towards March they will pylle and
be bare. And therefore they may nat abyde in the
fylde byfore the heerdmen in winter tyme for colde.
And those that lie in a close under a hedge have longe
heare and thyck, and they wyll neuer pylle nor be bare,
and by this reeson the husbande maye kepe twyse so
many catell as he did before.
“ This is the cause of this approwment. Nowe
evlery husbande hath sixe seuerall closes, whereof iii.
be for corne, the fourthe for his leyse, the fyfte for his
Commen pastures, and the sixte for his haye ; and in
wynter time there is but one occupied with corne, and
than hath the husbande other fyue to occupy tylle lente
come, and that he hath his falowe felde, his ley felde,
and his pasture felde al sommer. And when he hath
mowen his medowe, than he hath his medowe grounde,
800 that if he hath any weyke catell that Avoid be
amended, or dyvers manner of catell, he may put them
in any close he wyll, the which is a great aduantage *,
and if all shulde lye commen, than wolde the edyche of
the corne feldes and the aftermath of all the meadowes
be eaten in X. or XII. dayes. And the rych men that
hath moche catell, wold have the advantage, and the
pooi’e man can have no helpe nor relefe in wynter,
whan he hath moste nede and if an acre of lande be
worthe sixe pens or it be enclosed, it will be worth
VIII. pens whan it is enclosed, by reason of the com-
postyng and dongyng of the cattell that shall go and
lye upon it both day and nighte ; and if any of his thre
closes that he hath'for his corne be Avorn or ware bare,
than he may breke and plowe up his close that he
hadde for his layse, or the close that he hadde for his
commen pasture, or bothe, and sowe them Avith corne,
and let the other lye for a time, and so shall he have
ahvay reist grounde, the which Avill bear moche corne
with lytel donge j and also he shall have a great pro-
fyte of the Avod in the hedges Avhan it is growen, and
not only these profytes and advantages beforesaid, but
he shall sane moche more than al these ; for by reason
of these closes, he shall save meate, drinke, and wages'
of a shepeherde, the Avages of the heerdman, and the
wages of the swine heerde, the which may fortune to
be as chargeable as all his holle rent, and also his corne
shall be better saued from eatinge or distroyeng Avith
catel. For dout ye nat but heerdemen Avith their catell,
shepeherdes Avith their shepe and tieng of horses and
mares, distroyeth moch corne, the which the hedges
wold saue. Paraduenture some men would say, that
this shuld be against the common Aveale, bicause the
shepeherdes, heerdmen, and SAvyneherdes, shuld than
be put out of Avages. To that it may be answered,
though these occupations be not used, there be as many
mewe occupations that Avere not used before. As get-
tyng of quickesettes, diching, hedging, and plashing,
the Avhich the same men may use and occupye.”
The next author who writes professedly on agricul-
Histo
ture is Tusser, Avhose Five Hundred Points of Hus~
bandry was published in 1562, and has been recom¬
mended by Lord Molesworth to be taught in schools(H).
The edition of 1604 is the one Ave make use of here,
in Avhich the Pook of Husbandry consists of 118 pages;
and then folloAVS the Points of Housewferie, occupying
42 pages more. It is Avritten in verse. Amidst a
vast heap of rubbish, there are some useful notices con¬
cerning the state of agriculture in different parts of
England. Hops, Avhich had been introduced in the
early part of the 16th century, and on the culture of
which a treatise Avas published in 1574 by Reynolds
Scott, are mentioned as a well knoAvn crop. Buck-
Avheat Avas soavo after barley. It seems to have been
the practice then, in some places, to “ geld fillies'''' as
Avell as colts. Hemp and flax are mentioned as common
crops. Enclosures must have been numerous in seve¬
ral counties ; and there is a very good “ comparison
between champion (open fields) Country, and severall”
Avhich Blythe afterwards transcribed into his Improver
Improved. Carrots, cabbages, turnips, and rape, are
mentioned among the herbs and roots for the kitchen.
There is nothing to be found in Tusser about serfs, or
bondmen, as in Fitzherbert’s Avorks. This author’s
division of the crop is rather curious, though probably
quite inaccurate, if he means that the Avhole rent
might be paid by a tenth of the corn. But this, per*
haps, is not his meaning.
“ One part cast forth for rent due out of hand.
One other part for seed to sow thy land.
Another part leaue parson for his tith.
Another part for harvest, sickle and sith.
One part for ploughwrite, cartAvrite, knacker and
smith.
One part to uphold thy teemes that dratv therewith.
Another part for servant and workman’s wages laie.
One part likeAvise for filbellie dale by daie.
One part thy wife for needful things doth crave.
Thyself and thy child the last part would have.’’
The next writer is Bai'naby Googe, Avhose Whole
Art of Husbandry Avas printed in and again by
Markham in 1614. The first edition is merely a trans¬
lation of a German Avork ; and very little is said of
English husbandry in the second, though Markham
made some trifling interpolations, in order, as it is al¬
leged, to adapt the German husbandry to the English
climate. It is, for the most part, made up of gleaning*
from all the ancient Writers of Greece and Rome, whose
absurdities are faithfully retained; with here and there
some description of the practices of the age, in Avhich
there is little of novelty or importance. Googe men¬
tions a number of English writers who lived about the
time of Fitzherbert, whose Avorks have not been pre¬
served.
For more than 50 years after this, or till near the
middle of the 17th century, there are no systematic
works on husbandry, though several treatises on parti¬
cular departments of it. From these it is evident,
that all the different operations of the farmer Avere per¬
formed with more care and correctness than formerly ;
that
AGRICULTURE.
(h) Some considerations for the promoting of Agriculture and employing the poor. Dublin, 1723.
a
istory. A G II I C
that the fallows were better worked ; the fields kept
freer of weeds, and much more attention paid to ma¬
nures of every kind. A few of the writers of this pe-
jiod deserve to be shortly noticed.
Sir Hugh Plat, in his Jewel House of Art and Na¬
ture, printed in 1594, (which Weston in his Catalogue
erroneously gives to Gabriel Plattes), makes some use¬
ful observations on manures, but chiefly collected from
other writers. His censure of the practice of leaving
farm dung lying scattered about is among the most va¬
luable.
Sir John Norden’s Surveyor's Dialogue, printed in
1607, and reprinted with additions in 1618, is a work
of considerable merit. The first three books of it re¬
late to the rights of the Lord of the Manor, and the
various tenures by which landed property was then held,
with the obligations which they imposed: Among others,
we find the singular custom, so humorously described
in the Spectator, about the incontinent widow riding up¬
on a ram. In the fifth book, there are a good many judi¬
cious observations on the “ different natures of grounds,
how they may be employed, how they may be bettered,
reformed and amended.” The famous meadows near
Salisbury are mentioned j and when cattle have fed
their fill, hogs, it is pretended, “ are made fat with
the remnant, namely with the knots and sappe of the
grasse.” So-many extravagant assertions have been
made about these meadows by several of our early
writers, that we ought to receive their statements with
some degree of scepticism, wherever they seem to ap¬
proach the marvellous. “ Clouer grasse, or the grasse
honey suckle,” (white clover), is directed to be sown
with other hay seeds. “ Carrot rootes” were then rais¬
ed in several parts of England, and sometimes by far¬
mers. London sti'eet and stable dung was carried to
a distance by water j though it appears from later wri¬
ters to have been got almost for the trouble of removing.
And leases ol twenty-one years are recommended for
persons of small capital, as better than employing it in
purchasing land -an opinion that prevails very gene¬
rally among our present farmers.
Bees seem to have been great favourites with these
early writers 5 and among others, there is a treatise by
Butler, a gentleman of Oxford, called the Feminine
Monarchic, or the History of Bees, printed in 1609,
full of all manner of quaintness and pedantry.
We shall pass over Markham, Mascall, Gabriel
Plattes, and several other authors of this period, the
best part of their writings being preserved by Blythe
and Hartlib, of whom we shall say a little immediately.
In Sir Ptichard Weston’s Discourse on the Husbandry
of Brabant and Flanders, published by Hartlib in 164 if,
we may mark the dawn of the vast improvements which
have since been effected in Britain. This gentleman
was ambassador from England to the elector palatine
and king of Bohemia in 1619, and had the merit of be¬
ing the first who introduced the great clover, as it was
tb n called, into English agriculture about 1645, and
probably turnips also. His directions for the cultiva¬
tion of clover are better than was to be expected. It
thrives best, he says, when you sow it on the worst and
barrenest grounds, such as our worst heath ground is
in England. The ground is to be pared and burnt;
wnslacked lime must be added to the ashes. The ground
is next to be well ploughed and harrowed ; and about
Vol. I. Part I. f
U L T U R E.
ten pounds of clover seed must be sown on an acre, in
April or the end of March. If you intend to preserve
seed, then the second crop must be let stand till it come
to a lull and dead ripeness j and you shall have at the
least five bushels per acre. Being once sown, it will
last nve years ; and then being ploughed, it will yield
three or four years together rich crops of wheat, and
alter that a crop of oats, with which clover seed is to
sowed again. It is in itself an excellent manure, Sir
Kichard adds ; and so it should be, to enable land to
bear this treatment. In less than ten years after its
introduction, that is, before 1655, tIie culture of clover
exactly according to the present method, seems to have
been well known in England 5 and it had then made its
way even to Ireland.
A great many works on agriculture appeared durum-
the time of the commonwealth, of which Blythe’s Im¬
prover Improved, and Hartlib’s Legacy, are the most
valuable. The first edition of the former was publish¬
ed in 1649, an^ ^e latter in 1650 ; and both of then*
were enlarged in subsequent editions. In the first edi¬
tion of the Improver Improved, no mention is made of
clover, nor in the second of turnips ; but, in the third,
published in 1662, clover is treated of at some length 5
and turnips are recommended as an excellent cattle
crop, the culture of which should be extended from the
kitchen garden to the field. Sir Richard Weston must
have cultivated turnips before this 5 for Blythe says,
that “ Sir Richard affirmed to himself, he did feed his
swine with them 5 they were first given boiled, but af¬
terwards the swine came to eat them raw,” and “ would
run after the carts and pull them forth as they gathered
them j” an expression which conveys an idea°of their
being cultivated in the fields.
Blythe’s book is the first systematic work, in which
there are some traces of the convertible husbandry, so
beneficially established since, by interposing clover and
turnip between culmiferous crops. He is a great ene¬
my to commons and common fields 3 and to retaining
land in old pasture, unless it be of the best quality.
His description of different kinds of ploughs is interest¬
ing 3 and he justly recommends such as were drawn by
two horses (some even by one horse) in preference to
the weighty clumsy machines, which required four-
horses or oxen, or more. Almost all the manures now-
used seem to have been then well known 3 and he brought
lime himself from a distance of 20 miles. , He speaks
of an instrument which ploughed, sowed, and harrowed
at the same time ; and the setting of corn was then a
subject of much discussion. “ It was not many years,”
says Blythe, “ since the famous city of London peti¬
tioned the parliament of England against two anusancies
or offensive commodities, which were likely to come in¬
to gieat use and esteem 3 and that was Newcastle coal,
in regard of their stench, &c. 3 and hops, in regard
they would spoyle the taste of drink, and endanger the
people!” b
Hartlib’s Legacy is a very heterogeneous perform¬
ance, containing, among some very judicious directions,
a great deal of rash speculation. Several of the defi¬
ciencies which the writer (R. Child) complains of ia
English agriculture, must be placed to the account of
our climate, and never have been nor can be supplied.
Some of his recommendations are quite unsuitable to
the state of the country, and display more of general
P p knowledge
298
AGRICULTURE. Histo
knowledge and good Intention, than of either the theory
or practice of agriculture. Among the subjects de¬
serving notice, may be mentioned the practice of steep¬
ing and liming seed corn as a preventive of smut;
changing every year the species of grain, and bringing
seed corn from a distance ; ploughing down green crops
as manure ; and feeding horses with broken oats and
chaff. This writer seems to differ a good deal from
Blythe about the advantage of interchanging tillage
and pasture. “ It were no losse to this island,” he
savs, “ if that we should not plough at all, if so be that
we could certainly have corn at a reasonable rate, and
likewise vent for all our manufactures of wool ; and
one reason for this is, that pasture employeth more
hands than tillage, instead of depopulating the country,
as was commonly imagined. The grout which he men¬
tions “ as coming over to us in Holland ships,” about
which he desires information, was probably the same
with our present shelled barley ; and mills for manu¬
facturing it were introduced into Scotland from Hol¬
land, towards the beginning of the last century. . .
To the third edition published in 1655, are subjoined
Dr Beatie’s Annotations, with the writer of the Le¬
gacy’s answers ; both of them ingenious, and sometimes
instructive. But this cannot be said of Gabriel Plattes’s
Mercurtus Lcetijiccins, also added to this^ edition,
which is a most extravagant production. There are
also several communications from Hartlib’s different
correspondents; of which the most interesting are those
on the early cultivation, and great value of clover.
Hartlib himself does not appear much in this collection.
But he seems to have been a very useful person in edit¬
ing the works of others, and as a collector of miscella¬
neous information on rural subjects. It is strange that
neither Blythe nor Hartlib, nor any of Hartlib’s cor¬
respondents, had ever heard of I1 itzheibei’t s works.
Among the other writers previous to the revolution,
we shall only mention Kay the botanist and Lvelyn,
both men of great talents and research, whose works
are still in high estimation. A new edition of Eve¬
lyn’s Silva and Terra was published in 1777 by Dr
Hunter, with large notes and elegant engravings, and
reprinted in 1812. ,
Some of the works of tho sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries are now very scarce, and most of them little
known to agriculturists of the present day. In almost
all of them there is much that is now useless, and not
a little trifling and foolish; yet the labour of perusal is
not altogether fruitless. He wlm wishes to view the
condition of the great body of the people during this
period, as well as the cultivator who still obstinately
resists every new practice, may, each of them, be gra¬
tified and instructed, in tracing the gradual progress of
improvement, both in enjoyment, and in useful industry.
The preceding review commences with a period of feu¬
dal anarchy and despotism, and conies down to the time
when the exertions of individual interest were protect¬
ed and encouraged by the firm administration of equal
Jaws; when the prosperity of Great Britain was no
longer retarded by internal commotions, nor endangered
by hostile invasion.
The laws of this period, in so far as they relate to
agriculture and rural economy, display a similar pro¬
gress in improvement.
From the beginning of the reign of Henry VII. to
3
the end of Elizabeth’s, a number of statues were made
for the encouragement of tillage, though probably to
little purpose. The great grievance of those days, was
the practice of laying arable land to pasture, and suf¬
fering the farm-houses to fall to ruin. “ Where, in
some towns,” says the statute 4th Henry VIE (1488),
“ two hundred persons were occupied and livedo! their
lawful labours, now there are occupied two or three
herdsmen, and the residue fall into idleness;” therefore
it is ordained, that houses which, within three years,
have been let for farm, with twenty acres of land, lying
in tillage or husbandry, shall be upheld, under the pe¬
nalty of half the profits to be forfeited to the king or
the lord of the fee. Almost half a century afterwards,
the practice had become still more alarming ; and in
1534, a new act was tried, apparently with as little
success. “ Some have 24,000 sheep, some 20,000,
some 10,000, some 6000, some 4000, and some more
and some less ;” and yet it is alleged the price of wool
had nearly doubled, “ sheep being come to a few per¬
sons hands.” A penalty was therefore imposed on all
who kept above 2000 sheep; and no person was to take
in farm more than two tenements of husbandry. By
the 39th Elizabeth (1597), arable land made pasture
since the 1st Elizabeth, shall be again converted into
tillage, and what is arable shall not be converted into
pasture.
Many laws were enacted during this period against
vagabonds, as they were called ; and persons who could
not find employment seem to have been sometimes con¬
founded with those who really preferred idleness and
plunder. The dissolution of the feudal system, and the
suppression of the monasteries, necessarily deprived a
great part of the rural population of the means of sup¬
port. They could not be employed in cultivating the
soil; for there was no middle class of farmers possessed
of capital to be vested in improvements; and what
little disposable capital was in the hands of great pro¬
prietors, could not, in these rude times, be so advan¬
tageously embarked in the expensive and precarious la¬
bours of growing corn, as in pasturage, which required
much less skill and superintendance. Besides, there was
a constant demand for wool on the Continent; while the
corn market was not only confined by laws against ex¬
portation, but fettered by restrictions on the internal
trade. In this state of things, it would have been
wiser to have encouraged manufactures, as furnishing
the natural outlet to the surplus of the agricultural po¬
pulation, than to have interfered with private interest,
under pretence of encouraging husbandry. But, in¬
stead of this, the interest of the labouring classes, who
were, in some instances, prohibited from going to great
cities and becoming artificers, as well as of the proprie¬
tors in the management of their estates, were to be sa¬
crificed to the most mistaken views of national policy.
The laws regarding the wages of labour, and the price
of provisions, are a further proof of the ignorance of the
age in matters of political economy, particularly in re¬
gard to the proper subjects of legislation.
By the statute 1552, it is declared, that any person
that shall buy merchandize, victual, &c. coming to mar¬
ket; or make any bargain tor buying the same, before
they shall be in the market ready to be sold ; or shall
make any motion for enhancing the price ; or dissuade
any person from coming to market; or forbear to bring
story.
any of the things to market, See. shall be deemed & fore-
staller. Any person who buys and sells again in the
same market, or within four miles thereof, shall be re¬
puted a regrater. Any person buying corn growing in
the fields, or any other corn, with intent to sell again,
shall be reputed an unlawful ingrosser. ft was also de¬
clared, that no person shall sell cattle within five weeks
after he bought them. Licenses, indeed, were to be
granted in certain cases, and particularly when the
price of wheat was at or under six shillings and eight-
pence a quarter, and other kinds of grain in that pro¬
portion.
The laws regarding the exportation and importation
of corn, during this period, could have had little effect
in encouraging agriculture, though, towards the latter
part of it, they gradually approached that system which
was finally established at and soon after the Revolution.
From the time of the above mentioned statute against
forestallers, which effectually prevented exportation, as
well as the freedom of the home trade, when corn was
above the price therein specified, dow;n to 1688, there
are at least twelve separate enactments on this subject j
and some of them are so nearly the same, that it is pro¬
bable they were not very carefully observed. The
price at which wheat was allowed to be exported, was
raised from 6s. 8d. a quarter, the price fixed by the 1st
and 2d of Philip and Mary (1553), to 10s. in 1623 j
to 20s. in 1593 *, to 26s. 8d. in 1604 j to 32s. in 1623 5
to 40s. in 1660; to 48s. in 1663 ; and at last, in
1670, exportation was permitted without limitation.
Certain duties, however, were payable, which in some
eases seem to have amounted to a prohibition, and un¬
til 1660 importation was not restrained even in years
ef plenty and cheapness. In permitting exportation,
the object appears to have been revenue rather than the
encouragement of production.
The first statute for levying tolls at turnpikes, to
make or repair roads in England, passed in 1663.
Of the state of agriculture in Scotland in the 16th,
and the greater part of the 17th centuries, very little
is known ; no professed treatise on the subject appear¬
ed till after the Revolution. The south-eastern coun¬
ties were the earliest improved, and yet, in 1660, their
condition seems to have been very wretched. Ray,
who made a tour along the eastern coast in that year,
says “ We observed little or no fallow grounds in
Scotland ; some ley ground we saw which they manured
with sea wreck. The men seemed to be very lazy,
and may be frequently observed to plough in their
cloaks. It is the fashion of them to wear cloaks when
they go abroad, but especially on Sundays. They have
neither good bread, cheese, nor drink. They cannot
make them, nor will they learn. Their butter is very
indifferent, and one would wonder how they could con¬
trive to make it so bad. They use much pottage
made of coahvort, which they call kail, sometimes
broth of decorticated barley. The ordinary country
houses are pitiful cots, built of stone, and covered with
turfs, having in them but one room, many of them no
chimneys, the windows very small holes, and not
299
The ground in the valleys and plains bears
ve,T g0°d corn, but especially bears barley or bigge,
and oats, but rarely wheat and rye (i).”
. *s probable that no great change had taken place
in Scotland, from the end of the fifteenth century, ex¬
cept that tenants gradually became possessed of a little
stock of their own, instead of having their farms stock¬
ed by the landlord. “ The minority of James V., the
the reign of Mary Stewart, the infancy of her son, and
the civil wars of her grandson Charles I., were all
periods of lasting waste. The very laws which were
made during successive reigns, for protecting the tillers
of the soil from spoil, are the best proofs of the deplor¬
able state of the husbandman (k).”
let m the 17th century were those laws made, which
paved the way for the present improved system of agri¬
culture in Scotland. By statute 1633, landholders
were enabled to have their tithes valued, and to bnv
them either at 9 or at 6 years purchase, according to
the nature of the property. The statute 1685 con¬
ferring on landlords a power to entail their estates, was
indeed of a very different tendency, in regard to its
effects on agriculture. But the two acts in 1695, for
the division of commons, and separation of intermixed
properties, have facilitated in an eminent degree the
progress of improvement.
Irom the Revolution to the accession of his present
Majesty, the progress of agriculture was by no means
so considerable as we should be led to imagine from
the great exportation of corn. It is the opinion of
well informed writers (l), that very little improvement
had taken place, either in the cultivation of the soil,
or in the management of live stock, from the Restora¬
tion down to the middle of last century. Even clover
and turnips, the great support of the present impro¬
ved system of agriculture, were confined to a few di¬
stricts, and, at the latter period, were scarcely culti¬
vated at all by common farmers in the northern part
of the island. Of the writers of this period, therefore,
we shall notice only such as describe some improve¬
ment in the modes of culture, or some extension of the
practices that were formerly little known.
In Houghton’s Collections on Husbandry and Trade,
a periodical work begun in 1681, we have the first no¬
tices of sheep being fed on the ground with turnips.
“ Some in Essex have their fallow after turnips, which
feed their sheep in winter, by which means their tur¬
nips are scooped, and so made capable to hold dews and
rain water, which, by corrupting, imbibes the nitre of
the air, and when the shell breaks, it runs about and
fertilizes. By feeding the sheep, the land is dunged
as if it had been folded, and those turnips, though few
or none be carried off for human use, are a very excel¬
lent improvement 5 nay, some reckon it so, though they
only plough the turnips in, without feeding(M).” This
was writtten in February 1694; but ten years before,
Worlidge, one of his correspondents, observes, “ sheep
fatten very well on turnips, which prove an excellent
nourishment for them in hard winters, when fodder is
scarce; for they will not only eat the greens, but feed
on
AGRICULTURE.
glazed.
(1) Select Remains of John Ray. Lond. 1760. (k) Chalmers’s Caledonia, Vol. II. p. 732.
(l) Annals of Agriculture, No. 270, Harte’s Essays. Comber on National Subsistence, p. 161.
(m) Houghton’s Collections on Husbandry and Trade, Vol. I. p. 213. Edit. 1728.
P P 2
A G R I C U
on the roots in the ground, and scoop them hollow even
to the very skin.”—“ Ten acres,” he adds, “ sown
with clover, turnips, &c. will feed as many sheep as one
hundred acres thereof would before have done (n).”
At this time potatoes were beginning to attract no¬
tice. “ The potato,” says Houghton, “ is a baccife-
rous herb, with esculent roots, bearing winged leaves,
and a bell flower.”
“ Th is, I have been informed, was brought first out
of Virginia by Sir Walter Raleigh ; and he stopping at
Ireland, some was planted there, where it thrived very
well, and to good purpose 5 for in their succeeding
wars, when all the corn above ground was destroyed,
this supported them ; for the soldiers, unless they had
dug up all the ground where they grew, and almost
sifted it, could not extirpate them. From thence they
were brought to Lancashire, where they are very nu¬
merous, and now they begin to spread all the kingdom
over. They are a pleasant food boil’d or roasted, and
eaten with butter and sugar. There is a sort brought
from Spain, that are of a longer form, and are more
luscious than ours 5 they are much set by, and sold for
sixpence or eightpence the pound (o).”
The next tvriter is Mortimer, whose Whole Art oj
Husbandry tvas published in ih]o6, and has since run
through several editions. It is a regular systematic
work of considerable merit ; and it does not appear
that much improvement has been made in the practices
he describes, in many parts of Britain. Irom the
third edition of Hartlib’s Legacy, we learn that clover
was cut green, and given to cattle ; and it appears that
this practice of soiling, as it is now called, had become
very common about the beginning of last century,
wherever clover was cultivated. Rye-grass was now
sown along with it. Turnips were hand-hoed, and ex¬
tensively employed in feeding sheep and cattle, in the
same manner as at present.
The first considerable improv'ement in the practice
of that period, was introduced by Jethro Tull, a gen¬
tleman of Berkshire, Avho began to drill wheat and
other crops, about the year 1701, and Avhose Horse-
hoeing Husbandry was published in 1731. In giving
a short account of the innovations of this eccentric
writer, it is not meant to enter into any discussion of
their merits. It will not detract much from his repu¬
tation to admit, that, like most other men who leave
the beaten path, he was sometimes misled by inexpe¬
rience, and sometimes deceived by a too sanguine ima¬
gination. Had Tull confined his recommendation of
the drill husbandry, to leguminous and bulbous-rooted
plants generally, and to the cereal gramma only in par¬
ticular circumstances j and had he, without puzzling
himself about the food of plants, been contented Avith
pointing out the great advantage of pulverizing the soil
in most cases, and extirpating AA'eeds in every case, he
would certainly have deserved a high rank among the
benefactors of his country. A knowledge of his doc¬
trines and practice, hoAvever, Aviil serve as a necessary
introduction to the present approved modes of culture.
Tull’s theory is promulgated with great confidence;
and in the controversy which he thought proper to main¬
tain in support of it, he scrupled not to employ ridicule
L T U R E. ' ' Histor
as well as reasoning. Besides the Roman writers dc re
rustica, Virgil in particular, Avhom he treats Avith high
disdain, he is almost equally severe on Hr Woodward,
Bradley, and other Avriters of his own time.
As the distance betAveen his rows appeared much
greater than was necessary for the range of the roots
of the plants, Tull begins by showing, that these roots
extend much farther than is commonly believed ; and
then proceeds to inquire into the nature of their food.
After examining several hypotheses, he decides this to
be fine particles of earth. The chief, and almost the
only use of dung, he thinks, is to divide the earth ; to
dissolve “ the terrestrial matter Avhich affords nutri¬
ment to the mouths of vegetable roots ;” and this can
be done more completely by tillage, ft is therefore
necessary, not only to puWerize the soil by repeated
ploughings before it be seeded 5 but as it becomes gra¬
dually more and more compressed afterwards, recourse
must be had to tillage, Avhile the plants are growing,
and this is Hoeing ; which also destroys the weeds that
Avould deprive the plants of their nourishment.
The leading features of Tull’s husbandry, are his
practice of laying the land into narrorv ridges of five or
six feet, and upon the middle of these, drilling one, two,
or three rows ; distant from one another about seven
inches Avhen there were three ; and ten inches when
only two. The distance of the plants on one ridge,
from those on the contiguous one, he called an inter¬
val; the distance betAveen the rows on the same ridge
a space, or partition : the former was stirred repeated¬
ly by the horse-hoe, the latter by the hand-hoe.
The extraordinary attention this ingenious person
gave to his mode of culture, is perhaps Avithout a paral¬
lel. “ I formerly Avas at much pains,” he says, “ and
at some charge, in improving my drills, for planting the
rows at very near distances ", and had brought them to
such perfection, that one horse would drarv a drill with
eleven shares, making the rows at three inches and a
half distance from one another 5 and, at the same time,
sow in them three very different sorts of seeds, which
did not mix •, and these too at different depths. As
the barley-rows were seven inches asunder, the barley
lay four inches deep. A little more than three inches
above that, in the same channels, was clover $ betwixt
every tAvo of these roAvs Avas a rotv of St Foin, covered
half an inch deep.
“ I had a good crop of barley the first year ; the
next year two crops of broad clover, where that Avas
sown *, and Avhere hop-cloArer was sown, a mixed crop
of that and St Foin •, but I am since, by experience, so
fully convinced of the folly of these, or any other mixed
crops, and more especially of narrow spaces, that I have
demolished these instruments (in their full perfection)
as a vain curiosity, the drift and use of them being con¬
trary to the true principles and practice of horse-hoe¬
ing (p).”
In the culture of wheat, he began with ridges six
feet broad, or eleven on a breadth of 66 feet j but on
this he afterAvards had fourteen ridges. After trying
different numbers of rows on a ridge, he at last preler-
red two, with an intervening space of about ten inches.
He alloAved only three pecks of seed for an acre. The
(n) Houghton’s Collections, Vol. IV. p. 142—144.
(p) Horse-Hoeing Husbandry, p. 62. Lond. 1762.
(o) lb. Vol. II. p. 468.
tistoiy. A G R I C
iirst lioeing was performed by turning a furrow from
the row, as soon as the plant had put forth four or live
leaves; so that it was done before, or at the beginning
of winter. The next hoeing was in spring, by which
the earth was returned to the plants. The subsequent
operations depended upon the circumstances and con¬
dition of the land, and the state of the weather. The
next year’s crop of wheat was sown upon the intervals
which had been unoccupied the former year ; but this
he does not seem to think was a matter of much conse¬
quence. “ My field,” he observes, “ whereon is now
the thirteenth crop of wheat, has shown that the rows
may successfully stand upon any part of the ground.
The ridges of this field were, for the twelfth crop,
changed from six feet to four feet six inches. In order
for this altex-ation, the ridges were ploughed down, and
then the next ridges were laid out the same way as the
former, but one foot six inches narrower, and the dou¬
ble rows drilled on tncir tops ; whereby, of consequence,
there must be some rows standing on every part of the
ground, both on the former partitions, and on every part
of the intervals. Notwithstanding this, there was no
manner of difference in the goodness of the rows j and
the whole field was in every part of it equal, and the
best, I believe, that ever grew on it. It is now the
thirteenth crop, likely to be good, though the land was
not ploughed crossw’ays (q).”
It follows from this singular management, that Tull
thought a succession of crops of different species alto¬
gether unnecessary ; and he labours hard to prove a-
gainst Dr Woodward, that the advantages of such a
change, under his plan of tillage, were quite chimeri¬
cal ; though he seems to admit the benefit of a change
of the seed itself. But the best method of determin¬
ing the question would have been, to have slated the
amount of his crops per acre, and the quality of the
grain, instead of resting the superiority of his manage¬
ment on the alleged saving of expence, when compared
with the common broad-cast husbandry.
On the culture of turnip, both his principles and his
practice are much more correct. The ridges were of
the same breadth as for wheat; but only one row was
drilled on each. His management, while the crop
was growing, differs very little from the present prac¬
tice. When drilled on the level, it is impossible, he
observes, to hoe-plough them so well as when they are
planted upon ridges. But the seed was deposited at
different depths, the half about four inches deep, and
the other half exactly over that, at the depth of half
an inch. “ Thus planted, let the weather be never so
dry, the deepest seed will come up; but if it rainetli im¬
mediately after planting, the shallow will come up first.
We also make it come up at four times, by mixing our
seed, half new and half old, the new coming up a day
quicker than the old. These four comings up give it so
many chances for escaping the fly; it being often seen,
that the seed sown over night will be destroyed by the
fly, when that sown the next morning will escape, aqd
vice versa : Or you may hoe-plough them when the
fly is like to devour them } this will bury the greatest
part of those enemies : Or else you may drill in another
low without new-ploughing the land.”
u L T U R E.
Drilling, and horse and hand-hoeiug, seem to have
been in use before the publication of Tull’s hook.
“ Hoeing,” he says, “ may be divided into deep, which
is our horse-hoeing j and shallow, which is the English
hand-hoeing 5 and also the shallow horse-hoeinsr used
in some places betwixt rows, where the intervals are
very narrow, as sixteen or eighteen inches.—This is
hut an imitation ol the hand-hoe, or a succedaneum to
it, and can neither supply the use of dung, nor of fal¬
low, and may be properly called scratch-hoeing:'' But
in his mode of forming ridges, his practice seems to
have been original; his implements display much in¬
genuity 5 and his claim to the title of l ather of the
present horse-hoeing husbandry of Great Britain seems
indisputable. A translation of Tull’s hook was under¬
taken at one and the same time in France, by three
different persons of consideration, without the privity
of each other.— ivvo ol them afterwards put their
papers into the hands of the third, M. Du Hamel du
Manfcau, of the Royal Academy of Sciences at Paris,
who published a treatise on husbandry, on the prmci-
ciples of Mr Tull, a few years after. But Tull seems
to have had very few followers in England for more
than thirty years. The present method of drilling and
horse-hoeing turnips, was not introduced into North¬
umberland till about the year 1780 (r) ; and it was-
then borrowed from Scotland, the farmers of which had
the merit of first adopting Tull’s management in the
culture of this root about 1760, and from whom it
has since made its way, but slowly, in the southern part
of the island.
Among the English writers of this period, mav ho
mentioned Bradley, Lawrence, Hales, Miller, Ellis,
Smith, Hill, Hitt, Lisle, and Home. Most of their
works went through several editions in a few years 
at once a prool ol the estimation in which they were
held, and of the direction of the public mind towards
an investigation of the principles and practice of
agriculture.
Of the progress of the art in Scotland, till towards
the end of the 17th century, we are almost entirely
ignorant. The first work, written by Donaldson, was
printed in 1697, under the title of Husbandry Anato¬
mised ; or, An Inquiry into the present Manner of
Teiling and Manuring the Ground in Scotland. It ap¬
pears from this treatise, that the state of the art was
not more advanced at that time in North Britain, than
it had been in England in the tune ol F itz.herbert.
Farms were divided into infield and outfield; corn
crops followed one another, without the intervention of
fallow, cultivated herbage or turnips, though something
is said about fallowing the outfield j enclosures were
very rare j tne tenantry had not begun to emerge from a
state of great poverty and depression 5 and the wages of
labour, compared with the price of corn, were much
lower than at present ; though that price, at least in
ordinary years, must appear extremely moderate in our
times. Leases for a term of years, however, were not
uncommon; hut the want of capital rendered it impos¬
sible for the tenantry to attempt any spirited improve¬
ments.
Donaldson first points out the common management
of
(q) Horse-Hoeing Husbandry, p. 424. Lond. 1762.
(r) Northumberland Survey, p. ioo„.
302
AGRICULTURE. Historj
of that period, which he shows to have been very un¬
productive ; and afterwards recommends what he thinks
would be a more profitable course. Of the “ dale
ground (he says), that is, such lands as are partly hills
and partly valleys, of which sorts may be comprehend¬
ed the greatest part of arable ground in this kingdom,
I shall suppose a farmer to have a lease or tack of
threescore acres, at three hundred merks of rent per
annum (i61. 13s. 4d. sterling). Perhaps some, who are
not acquainted with rural affairs, may think this cheap 5
but those who are the possessors thereof think other¬
wise, and find difficulty enough to get the same paid,
according to their present way of manuring thereof.
But that I may proceed to the comparison, I shall show
how commonly this farm room is managed. It is com¬
monly divided into two parts, viz. one-third croft, and
two-thirds outfield, as it is termed. The croft is usually
divided into three parts j to wit, one-third barley, which
is always dunged that year barley is sown thereon j
another third oats j and the last third pease. The out¬
side field is divided into two parts ; to wit, the one-
half oats, and the other half grass, two years succes¬
sively, The product, which may be supposed to he on
each acx*e of croft, four bolls (three Winchester quar¬
ters) *, and that of the outfield, three (two and one-
fourth quarters) : the quota is seven score bolls, which
we shall also reckon at five pounds (8s. ^d.) per boll,
cheap year and dear year, one with another. This in
all is worth 700I. (58I. 6s. 8d. sterling).
“ Then let us see what profit he can make of his
cattle. According to the division of his lands, there is
twenty acres of grass, which cannot be expected to be
very good, because it gets not leave to lie above two
years, and therefore cannot he well soarded. How¬
ever, usually, besides four horses, which are kept for
ploughing the said land, ten or twelve nolt are also
kept upon a farm room of the above-mentioned bounds;
but, in respect of (he badness of the grass, as said is,
little profit is had of them. Perhaps two or three
stone of butter is the most can be made of the milk of
his kine the whole summer; and not above two heffers
brought up each year. As to what profit may be made
by bringing up young horses, I shall say nothing, sup¬
posing he keeps his stock good by those of his own up¬
bringing. The whole product, then, of his cattle, can¬
not be reckoned above fifty merks (2I. 15s. 6d.). For
in respect his beasts are in a manner half starved, they
are generally small ; so that scarce may a heffer be
sold at above twelve pounds (il. sterling). The whole
product of this farm room, therefore, exceeds not the
value of 733I. (61I. is. 8d. sterling), or thereabout.”
The labourers employed on this farm, were two men
and one woman, besides a herd in summer, and other
servants in harvest.
Donaldson then proceeds to point out a difierenf
mode of management, which he calculates to be more
profitable; but no notice is taken of either clover or
turnips, as crops to be raised in his new course,
though they are incidentally noticed in other parts of
the work.
“ I also recommend potatoes, as a very profitable
root for husbandmen and others that have numerous fa¬
milies. And because there is a peculiar way of plant¬
ing this root, not commonly known in this country, I
shall here shew what way it is ordinarily planted or
set. The ground must be dry ; and so much the bet¬
ter it is, if it have a good soard of grass. The beds
or riggs are made about eight feet broad, good store of
dung being laid upon your ground ; horse or sheep dung
is the most proper manure for them. Throw each po¬
tato or sett (for they were sometimes cut into setts) into
a knot of dung, and afterwards dig earth out of the
furrows, and cover them all over, about some three or
four inches deep ; the furrows left between your riggs
must be about two feet broad, and little less will they
be in depth, before your potatoes be covered. You
need not plant this root in your garden ; they are com¬
monly set in the fields, and wildest of ground, for en¬
riching of it.” As to their consumption, they were
sometimes “ boiled and broken, and stirred with butter
and new milk ; also roasted, and eaten with butter;
yea, some make bread of them, by mixing them with
oat or barley-meal ; others parboil them, and bake
them with apples, after the manner of tarts.”
There is a good deal in this little treatise about
sheep, and other branches of husbandry ; and if the
writer was well informed, as in most instances he ap¬
pears to have been, his account of prices, of wages, and
generally of the practices of that period, is very inte¬
resting.
The next work on the husbandry of Scotland, is,
The Country Man’s Rudiments, or An Advice to the
Farmers in East Lothian, hoiv to labour and improve
their grounds, said to have been written by Lord Bel-
haven, about the time of the Union, and reprinted in
1723. In this we have a deplorable picture of the
state of agriculture, in what is now the most highly im¬
proved county in Scotland. His Lordship begins wTith
a very high encomium on his own performance. “ I
dare be bold to say, there was never such a good easy
method of husbandry as this, so succinct, extensive,
and methodical in all its parts, published before.” And
he bespeaks the favour of those to whom he addresses
himself, by adding, “ neither shall I affright you with
hedging, ditching, marling, chalking, paring and burn¬
ing, draining, watering and such like, which are all
very good improvements indeed, and very agreeable
with the soil and situation of East Lothian ; but I
know ye cannot bear as yet such a crowd of improve¬
ments, this being only intended to initiate you in the
true method and principles of husbandry.” The farm
rooms in East Lothian, as in other districts, were di¬
vided into infield and outfield, the former of which got
all the dung. “ The infield, where wheat is sown, is
generally divided by the tenant into four divisions or
breaks, as they call them, viz. one of wheat, one of
barley, one of pease, and one of oats ; so that the wheat
is sowed after the pease, the barley after the wheat,
and the oats after the barley. The outfield land is or¬
dinarily made use of promiscuously for feeding of their
cowts, horse, sheep, and oxen : ’tis also dunged by their
sheep, who lay in earthen folds ; and sometimes when
they have much of it, they fauch or fallow a part of it
yearly.” Under this management, the produce seems
to have been three times the seed ; and yet, says his
Lordship, “ if in East Lothian, they did not leave a
higher stubble than in other places of the kingdom,
their grounds would be in a much worse condition than
at present they are, though bad enough.—A good crop
of corn makes a good stubble, and a good stubble is the
equallest
3°3
listory. AGRICULTURE.
equailest mucking that is. Among the advantages of the Society recommended to all gentlemen and far-
enclosures, he observes, “ you will gain much more la- mers.
hour from your servants, a great part of whose time The next work is by the same Mr Maxwell, printed
was taken up in gathering thistles, and other garbage, in 1757, antl entitled the Practical Husbandman : be-
for their hoises to teed upon in their stables; and ing a collection of miscellaneous papers on Husbandry y
thereby the great trampling and pulling up, and other 8fc. In this book, the greater part of the Select Trans-
destruction of the corns, white they are vet tender, will actions is republished, with a number of new papers,
be prevented.” Potatoes and turnips are recommended among which, an Essay on the Husbandry of Scotland]
to be sown in the yard (kitchen garden). Clover does with a proposal for the improvement of it, is the most
not seem to have been known. Kents were paid in valuable. In this he lays it down as a rule, that it is
corn ; and, for the largest farm, which he thinks should bad husbandry to take two crops of grain successively,
employ no more than two ploughs, the rent was “ about which marks a considerable progress in the knowledge’
six chalders of victual, when the ground is very good, of modern husbandry ; though he adds, that in Scot-
and four in that which is not so good. But I am most land, the best husbandmen after a fallow take a crop of
fully convinced they should take long leases or tacks, wheat; after the wheat, pease ; then barley, and then
that they may not be straitened with time in the im- oats; and after that they fallow again. The want of
provement of their rooms ; and this is profitable both enclosures was still a matter of complaint. The ground
for master and tenant.” continued to be cropped so iong as it produced two
Such was the state of the husbandry of Scotland in seeds : the best farmers were contented with four seeds,
the early part of last century, i he first attempts at which was more than the general produce,
improvement cannot be traced farther back than 1723, The first act of parliament for collecting tolls on the
when a number of landholders formed themselves into a highway in Scotland, was passed in 1750, for repair-
Society of Improvers in the knowledge of Agriculture ing the road from Dunglass bridge to Haddington. In
in Scotland. The earl of Stair, one of their most ac- ten years after, several acts followed for the counties
tive members, is said to have been the first who culti- of Edinburgh and Lanark, and for making the roads
vated urnips in that country. The Select Transactions between Edinburgh and Glasgow. The benefit which
of this Society were collected and published in 1743, agriculture has derived from good roads, it would not
by Mr Maxwell, who took a large part in its proceed- be easy to estimate. The want of them was one great
ings. It is evident from this book, that the Society had cause of the slow progress of the art in former times,
exerted itself in a very laudable manner, and apparent- The Revolution in 1688 was the epoch of that sys-
ly with considerable success, in introducing cultivated tern of Corn Laws, to which very great influence has
herbage and turnips, as well as in improving on the been ascribed, both on the agriculture and general,
former methods of culture. But there is reason to he- prosperity of the country. In 1670, exportation was
lieve, that the influence of the example of its members, permitted, whatever the price might be ; and importa-.
did not extend to the common tenantry, who are always tion was virtually prohibited, by a duty of 16s. per.
unwilling to adopt the practices of those who are placed quarter, when wheat did not exceed 53s. 4d.; of 8s.
in a higher rank, and supposed to cultivate land for when above that, and not exceeding 80s.; and, when
pleasure, rather than profit. Though this Society, the above 8os., the duty of 5s. 4d., imposed by the act
earliest probably in the united kingdom, soon counted 1663, continued to be payable. Still, however, as there
upwards of three hundred members, it existed little was a duty payable on exportation ; and as importa-
more than twenty years. Maxwell delivered lectures tion, from some defect in the law respecting the mode,
on agriculture for one or two sessions at Edinburgh, of ascertaining the prices at which the different duties
which, from the specimen he has left, ought to have were exigible, still continued at the low duty, the sys-
been encouraged. tern by which exportation was encouraged, and impor-
In the introductory paper in Maxwell’s Collection, tation in ordinary cases prohibited, was not completely
we are told, “ that the practice of draining, enclosing, established till 1688 and 1700. In the former of these
summer-fallowing, sowing flax, hemp, rape, turnip, and years, a bounty of 5s. a quarter tvas given on exporta-
grass seeds ; planting cabbages after, and potatoes with, tion, when the price of wheat did not exceed 48s.; and
the plough, in fields of great extent, is introduced; and in the latter, the duties on exportation were wholly re-
that, according to the general opinion, more corn grows pealed. Under these laws, not only was the excess of
now yeaHy where it was never known to grow before, exports very considerable, but the prices of grain, down
these twenty years last past, than perhaps a sixth of all to 1765, were much lower than during an equal num-
that the kingdom was in use to produce, at any time her of years preceding 1688. This is not the place to •
before.” inquire how far these laws had an influence in producing
In this work, we find the first notice of a thrashing this phenomenon ; but the facts themselves are indis-,
machine; it was invented by Mr Michael Menzies, putable. Yet the mere circumstance of large exporta-
advocate, and he obtained a patent for it. Upon a re- tions of grain does by no means prove the prosperity of,
presentation made to the Society, that it was to be seen agriculture ; far less is its cheapness in the home mar-
going in several places, they appointed two of their kets any evidence of the comfortable subsistence of
number to inspect it; and in their report they, say, the lower orders. Corn seems to have been raised in.
that one man would be sufficient to manage a machine such abundance, not merely because the market was
which would do the work of six. One of the machines extended by means of the bounty, but because there,
was “ moved by a great water wheel and triddles ;” was little demand for other products of the soil, which,
and another, “ by a little wheel of three feet diameter, have, since that time, withdrawn a large portion of the
moved by a small quantity of water” This machine^ best arable land from the growth of corn.. And the,
price :
30i
A G R I C U
price was low, because neither the number nor wealth
of the consumers had increased in a proportion corre¬
sponding to the supply. Before the accession of his
present Majesty, the number of acts for enclosure was
only two hundred and forty-four;—a clear proof that
agricultural improvements proceeded much more slowly
than they have done since. And it cannot be disputed,
that, owing to the imperfect culture of that period,
when ameliorating crops did not enter largely into the
courses of management, any given extent of land did
not produce so much corn, as under the improved rota¬
tions of modern husbandry.
The exportation of wool was prohibited in 1647, in
1660, and in 1688 ; and the prohibition strictly en¬
forced by subsequent statutes. The effect of this on
its price, and the state of the wool trade, from the earli¬
est period to the middle of last century, are distinctly
exhibited by the learned and laborious author of Me¬
moirs on Wool, printed in 1747*
The gradual advance in the price of land produce,
soon after the year 1760, occasioned by the increase of
population, and of wealth derived from manufactures
and commerce, has given a more powerful stimulus to
rural industry, augmented agricultural capital in a
greater degree, and called forth a more skilful and en¬
terprising race of cultivators, than all the laws for re¬
gulating the corn trade could ever have effected. Most
of the inventions for increasing produce and economiz¬
ing labour, have either been introduced, or improved
and greatly extended since that time ; and by means
of both, the free surplus has been vastly increased for
the supply of the general consumption. The passing
of more than 3000 bills of enclosure, in the present
reign, is a proof how much more rapidly the cultivation
of new land has proceeded than in the former period ;
and the garden-like appearance of the country, as well
as the striking improvement in the condition of all
classes of the rural population, display, in the most de¬
cided manner, the skill and the success with which this
great branch of national industry is now followed
throughout the greater part of Britain.
In a view of the progress of husbandry, any consi¬
derable improvements in the species of crops cultivated,
and the order in which they succeed one another, in
agricultural machinery, and in the kinds and varie¬
ties of live stock, are entitled to hold a very prominent
place. But our limits do not permit ns to do more,
than just to notice a few of the most important. Be¬
sides that they are too recent, and, in general, too well
known to require any particular description, all the
most valuable discoveries, and the most beneficial prac¬
tices of this period, have been explained with sufficient
minuteness in the numerous agricultural works that
have lately issued from the press $ and most of them in
the pages of this journal.
The swing plough, improved by Small, the thrashing
machine, brought to perfection by Meikle, and the
reaping machine, now in a very promising state, by
far the most important inventions in agricultural ma¬
chinery, must be already well known to our readers.
The great line of distinction between the present
and the former courses of cropping, consists in the al¬
ternation of what are called exhausting and ameliorat¬
ing crops. The best cultivators rarely take two corn
crops in succession j but a culmiferous crop is almost
L T U R E. History
universally succeeded, in all well cultivated districts,
by a leguminous crop, or one of herbage, cut or pastur¬
ed, or turnips, cabbages, rape, &c. $ or when the soil is
unsuited to turnips, by a fummer fallow, recurring at as
distant an interval as the state of the soil, in regard to
cleanness will permit. In common language, a green
or a pulse crop, or a plain fallow, is interposed between
every two white corn crops. These green crops not
only preserve the fertility of the soil, but, when sown
in rows, as most of them usually are, they afford an op¬
portunity of extirpating weeds, by the use of the horse
and hand hoe j and even when sown broadcast, bv
their complete possession of the ground, if it is pro¬
perly prepared, the growth of weeds is effectually
checked. In other respects, these intermediate crops
are of the utmost impoitance in every good course of
management. Whether they be eaten on the ground,
or carried to the farm-houses and straw-yards, much
valuable manure is obtained from their consumption $
and on sandy or gravelly soils, when only a part of a
turnip crop is eaten by sheep on the ground, the greatest
defect of such land is removed by their treading j and,
in many cases, rendered capable of producing as va¬
luable a crop of wheat as soils of a closer texture. It
is for these reasons, that by the cultivation of clover
and turnips in particular, in regular alternation with
corn, the soil is so much enriched, as to yield as much
corn on one half of any given extent of land, as the
whole did under the old course of successive crops of
corn j and, unless upon strong clays, an unproductive
fallow is wholly dispensed with.
But these crops are not less valuable in another
point of view. Before the introduction of clover and
turnips, there was nothing for the maintenance of live
stock, but natural herbage in summer, with the addi¬
tion of coarse hay and straw in winter $ and in the
northern parts of the island in particular, where the
winters are long and severe, it was seldom possible to
do more, for about half the year, than preserve cattle
and sheep from starving. Even in the most favour¬
able situations, very little butcher’s meat could be
brought to market from December to June, unless at
an expense which the great body of consumers were
quite unable to reimburse. The more early maturity
of cattle and sheep, and the regular supply of the mar¬
ket throughout the year, are therefore chiefly owing to
turnips and clover ; as well as the vast increase in the
number of the live stock kept on arable land, and the
great degree of perfection to which some breeds have
been brought, by the skilful experiments of several
eminent agriculturists.
Among these, the first place is unquestionably due
to Mr Kobert Bakevvell of Dishley, in Leicestershire.
By his skilful selection at first, and constant care af¬
terwards to breed from the best animals, without any
regard to their consanguinity, he at last obtained a
variety of sheep, which, for early maturity, and tho
property of returning a great produce of mutton for
the food they consume, as well as for the small propor¬
tion which the weight of the offal bears to that of the
four quarters, are altogether unequalled either in tbit
or any other country. The Dishley or New Leicester
sheep, and their crosses, are now spread over the
principal corn districts of Britain ; and, from their
quiet domesticated habits, are probably still the most
profitable
istory. - A G R I C U
profitahie oi ail tlie varieties of sheep, on farms where
the rearing and fattening of live stock are combined
with the best courses of tillage crops.
The practice of Mr Bakewell and his followers, fur¬
nishes an instance of the benefits of a division of labour
in a department of business where it was little to be
expected. Their males were let out every year to
breeders from all parts of Tngland ; and thus, by ju¬
diciously crossing the old races, all the valuable pro¬
perties of the Dishley variety descended, after three or
four generations, to their posterity. By no other
means could this new breed have spread so rapidly, nor
have been made to accommodate itself so easily to a
change of climate and pasture. Another recommenda¬
tion ol this plan was, that the ram-hirer had a choice
among a number ol males, of somewhat different pro¬
perties, and in a more or less advanced stage of im¬
provement, from which it was his business to select
such as suited his particular object. These were rear¬
ed by experienced men, who gave their principal at¬
tention to this branch alone j and having the best
females as well as males, they were able to furnish the
necessary supply of young males in the greatest varietv,
to those farmers whose time was occupied with other
pursuits. The prices at which Mr Bakewell’s rams
were hired, appear enormous. In 1789, he received
twelve hundred guineas for the hire of three brought at
one birth 5 two thousand for seven; and, for his whole
letting, at least three thousand guineas.
Merino sheep were first brought into England in
1788, when his Majesty procured a small flock by way
of lortugal. In 1791, another flock was imported
from Spam. In 1804, when his Majesty’s annual
sales commenced, this race began to attract much
notice. Dr Parry of Bath has crossed the Eyeland
or Herefordshire sheep with the Merinos, and brouo-ht
the wool of the fourth generation to a degree of fine¬
ness not excelled by that of the pure Merino itself-
jvlnle the carcase, in which is the great defect of the
Merinos, has been much improved. Lord Sommerville
and many other gentlemen, have done themselves much
honour by establishing this race, so necessary to the
prosperity of our woollen manufactures, and in remov-
ing^its defects by their judicious management.
' One of the most valuable plants, introduced into
cultivation since 1760, is the ruia-baga or Swedish
jamp, which in some degree supplies the great dcsi-
iietatum of late spring food for live-stock, after the
common turnip is generally much damaged, and some¬
times almost wholly destroyed, by the severity and
changes of the weather. The Scotch yellow turnip is
joi the same reason a most useful variety, coming in
between the white turnips and the Swedish, in some
situations supplying the place of the latter, and yield-
ing generally a larger produce.
A variety of oats, called the potato oat, was acciden-
aiy discovefed in Cumberland in 1788. It comes
early, and gives a large produce both in grain and in
/p’ °n S0°d soils. It lias spread over all the north
0 Lngland and south of Scotland, and is now almost
lie only kind sown on many of the best farms. But
vJr ody begUn t0 degenerate. A great many
j et'es of summer wheat have been introduced of
te, but they are only partially cultivated.
v76Vhe corn Iaws established in the end of the
v ol. I, Part I.
L T U R E.
17th century began to be repealed, and exportation was
prohibited, and importation permitted, without payment
0 duties, by annual acts, during the seven subsequent
years. A new system was established in 1773, allow¬
ing importation, when the price of wheat was at or
above 48s. per quarter, at the low duty of 6d. Ex¬
portation was prohibited when the price was 44s.; and
below that, the former bounty of 5s. per quarter con¬
tinued to be payable.
By the act 1791, the bounty on exportation, when
the price was under 443. per quarter, remained unalter¬
ed ; but exportation was permitted till the price was
46s. Importation was virtually prohibited by high
duties when the price was below 50s., and permitted
on payment of a duty of 6d. when at or above 54s.
. the corn laws were altered for the third
time, and the bounty on exportation was paid till the
price of wheat was 48s. per quarter; and at 54s. ex¬
portation was prohibited. The high duty of 24s. 3d.
was payable on importation till the price was 63s.;
above 63s. and under 66s., a duty of 2s. 6d. ; and
above 66s. the low duty of 6d. By an act in 1805,
importation into any part of Britain is to be regulated
by the aggregate average price of the twelve maritime
districts of England. Importation was never stopt un¬
der the law of 1804, till February 1813.
During the last twenty-two years, about 60 millions
of pounds sterling have been paid for foreign grain. In
bad seasons, the prices have been enhanced to a most
alarming degree, notwithstanding large bounties have »
been paid on importation. The average price of every
successive period of ten years, since 1765, has risen
considerably ; and since 1795, the price has been sel¬
dom less than double the average of the first 60 vears
of the last century.
The corn laws, after much discussion in Parliament,
a very general opposition on the part of the manufac¬
turing and commercial classes, with a great number of
publications on both sides, have recently undergone
another change, which will probably be not more Tast¬
ing than those that have preceded it. By the 54th of
the king, ch. 69. (17th dune 1814) the exportation of
corn, meal, malt and flour, from any part of the united
kingdom, is permitted at all times, without payment of
any duty, or receiving any bounty; and by the 55th,
ch. 26. (23d March 1815) importation is altogether
prohibited (except for the warehouse, from whence it
may be taken out for sale, when the prices are such as
would permit importation) till the price of wheat is
80s.; rye, pease and beans, 53s.; barley, bear or bigg,
40s.; and oats 27s. per quarter. Above these prices,
these different kinds of corn are admitted, without pay¬
ment of any duty whatever. From the British colo¬
nies in America, corn may be imported for home-con¬
sumption, without payment of any duty, when the prices
are at or above—wheat,67s.; rye,pease, and beans, 44s.;
barley, bear or bigg, 33s.; and oats, 22s. per quarter.
Almost all the restrictions on the inland corn trade,
were removed by the act 1772 5 an<^ the more just views
of the present age have given freedom to the trade, in
point of fact, though some of the old laws against fore¬
stalling, &c. are still unrepealed. Yet it is not many
years since punishments were inflicted for these imagi¬
nary crimes.
The agriculture of Scotland has been greatly benefit*
Q q ed
305
3g6 . A G R I C U
ed by an act in 1770, which relaxed the rigour of strict
entails, and extended the powers of proprietors, in so
far as regards the improvement of their estates, and the
granting of leases.
There is nothing that shows more clearly the rapid
progress of agriculture in Britain, than the great num¬
ber of societies that have been lately formed, one or
more in almost every county, for the diffusion ol know¬
ledge, and the encouragement of correct operations and
beneficial discoveries. We have already noticed the
society of improvers, established in Scotland in I723*
Besides those respectable associations, which have lor
their object the encouragement of arts, manufactures,
and commerce, generally, several large institutions
have been formed, whose chief purpose is the improve¬
ment of agriculture. Among these, the Bath and TPest
of England Society, established in I777> an^ ^ie
land Society of Scotland, in 1784, hold a conspicuous
rank •, and the establishment of the Board ot Agricul¬
ture, in 1793? ought to form a new era in the history
of the agriculture and rural economy of Britain. Ihe
reports of the different counties, many of them surveyed
a second time, and now reprinted, according to an uni¬
form plan, have been followed by the General Report of
the Agricultural State and Political Circumstances of
Scotland; and a similar work for England is understood
to be in the contemplation of the Board.
A great many excellent works on agriculture and
relative subjects, have been published since 1760 j and,
among these, several periodical ones have been very
favourably received, and widely circulated. But as
they are comparatively recent, and the best of them
well known, it is unnecessary to give any particular ac¬
count, either of their merits or defects.
Within the last six years, the agriculture of Britain
has experienced a shock, from which it cannot recover
for a much longer period. In that time, the loss of
capital, owing to the extraordinary depression of almost
all sorts of land produce, cannot have been less than one
year’s rental of the whole island. The replies sent to
the circular letter of the Board of Agriculture, regard¬
ing the agricultural state of the kingdom, in February,
March, and April last, furnish a body of evidence
which cannot be controverted, and exhibit a picture of
widely spread ruin among the agricultural classes, and
of distress among all that immediately depend upon
them, to which there is probably no parallel. This is
not the place to inquire into the causes ot this melan¬
choly reverse \ but it will not readily be ascribed, by
those who are best acquainted with the subject, either
to the uncommon fertility of the seasons, or a too ex¬
tensive cultivation.
About the year 1600, France made some consider¬
able efforts to revive the arts of husbandry, as appears
from several large works, particularly Les Moyens de
devenir Riche; and the Cosmopolite, by Bernard de
Palissy, a poor porter, who seems to have been placed
by fortune in a station for which nature never intend
ed him 5 Le Theatre d'Agriculture, by Deferres } and
VAgriculture et Maison Rustique, by Messrs Etienne,
Eiebault, &c.
Nearly in the same period, the skilful practice of
husbandry became more prevalent among this people
and the Flemings than the publishing of books on the
subject. Their intention seemed to be that of carrying
L T U R E. Histoi
on a private lucrative employment, without instructing
their neighbours. Whoever therefore became desirous
of copying their method of agriculture, was obliged to
visit that country, and make his own remarks on their
practice.
The principal idea they had of husbandry was, by
keeping the lands clean and in fine tilth, to make a
farm resemble a garden as nearly as possible.
Such an excellent principle, at first setting out, led
them of course to undertake the culture of small farms
only, which they kept free from weeds, continually
turning the ground, and manuring it plentifully and
judiciously. When they had by this method brought
the soil to a proper degree of cleanliness, health, ami
sweetness, they chiefly cultivated the more delicate
grasses, as the surest means ol obtaining a certain profit
upon a small estate, without the expence ot keeping
many draught horses and servants. A lew years expe¬
rience was sufficient to convince them that ten acres of
the best vegetables for feeding cattle, properly culti¬
vated, would maintain a larger stock ol grazing animals
than forty acres of common farm grass on lands badly
cultivated. They also found, that the best vegetables
for this purpose were lucerne, saintfoin, trefoil of most
kinds, field turnips, &c.
The grand political secret of their husbandry, there¬
fore, consisted in letting farms on improvement. They
are said also to have discovered nine sorts of manure 5
but what they all were, we are not particularly in¬
formed. We find, however, that marl was one of them ;
the use and virtues of which appear also to have been
well known in this kingdom two hundred years^ ago,
although it was afterwards much neglected. They
were the first people among the moderns who ploughed
in green crops for the sake of fertilizing the soil j and
who confined their sheep at night in large sheds built
on purpose, the floors of which were covered with sand
or virgin earth, &c. which the shepherd carted away
each morning to the compost dunghill.
After the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, most of the na¬
tions of Europe, by a sort of tacit consent, applied
themselves to the study of agriculture, and continued to
do so, more or less, amidst the universal confusion that
succeeded.
The French found, by repeated experience, that
they could never maintain a long war, or procure a to¬
lerable peace, unless they could raise corn enough to
support themselves in such a manner as not to be obli¬
ged to submit to harsh terms on the one hand, or to pe¬
rish by famine on the other. This occasioned the king
to give public encouragement to agriculture, and even
to be present at the making of several experiments.
The great, and the rich of various ranks and stations,
followed his example 5 and even the ladies were can¬
didates for a share of fame in this public-spirited and
commendable undertaking.
During the hurry and distresses of France in the war
of 1756, considerable attention was paid to agriculture.
Prize questions were annually proposed in their rural
academies, particularly those of Lyons and Bourdeauxj
and many judicious observations were made by the Sor
ciety for improving agriculture in Britanny.
After the conclusion of that war in mat¬
ters were carried on there with great vigour. The
university of Amiens made various proposals for the
advancement
[istory. A G R I C U
advancement of husbandry 5 and the marquis de Tour-
billy (a writer who proceeded chiefly on experience)
had the principal direction of a georyical society esta¬
blished at Tours.
The society at Rouen also deserves notice; nor did
the king and his ministers think it unworthy their at¬
tention. There soon existed about fifteen societies in
France, established by royal approbation, for the pro¬
moting of agriculture ; and these had twenty co-ope¬
rating societies belonging to them.
About this time vigorous exertions began to be made
in Russia to introduce the most approved system of
husbandry which had taken place in other parts of Eu¬
rope. The late empress sent several gentlemen into
Britain and other countries to study agriculture, and
gave it all possible encouragement in her own domi¬
nions.
The art of agriculture has also been for many years
publicly taught in the Swedish, Danish, and German
universities, where the professors may render effectual
service to their respective countries, if they understand
the practical as well as the speculative part, and can
converse with as much advantage with the farmer as
with Virgil and Columella.
Even Italy has not been totally inactive. The Neapo¬
litans of this age have condescended to recur to the first
rudiments of revived husbandry, and begun to study
anew the Agricultural System of Crescenzio, first pub¬
lished in 1478. The people of Bergamo have pursued
the same plan, and given a new edition of the Ricordo
d’Agriculturae de Tarello, first published in 1577. The
duchy of Tuscany has imbibed the same spirit of im¬
provement. A private gentleman, above 40 years since,
left his whole fortune to endow an academy of agricul¬
ture. Ihe first ecclesiastic in the duchy was president
of this society, and many of the chief nobility were
members.
His Sardinian majesty also sent persons to learn the
different modes of practice in foreign countries; and
made some spirited attempts to establish a better method
of agriculture among his subjects.
In Poland also M. de Bieluski, grand marshal of the
crown, made many successful attempts to introduce the
new husbandry among his countrymen ; and procured
the best instruments for that purpose from France, Eng¬
land, and other parts of Europe.
The Hollanders are the only people now in Europe
who seem to look upon agriculture with indifference.
Except the single collateral instance of draining their
fens and morasses, they have scarcely paid any attention
to it; and even this seems to have proceeded more from
the motive of self-preservation, than any love of, or dis¬
position to, husbandry.
In the year 1759, a few ingenious and public-spirited
men at Berne in Switzerland established a society for
the advancement of agriculture and rural economics.
In that society were many men of great weight in the
republic, and most of them persons of a true cast for
making improvements in husbandry, being enabled to
join the practice with the theory.
Nor must we here omit to mention, that the justly
celebrated Linnaeus and his disciples have performed
great things in the north of Europe, particularly in dis¬
covering new kinds of profitable and well-tasted food
for cattle. About the same time, Sweden bestowed
L T U R E.
successful labours on a soil which had before been look*
as co^’ barren, and incapable of melioration*
Of this tllA  ! Ml 1 1 .•
Of this the Stockholm Memoirs will be a lasting mo¬
nument. 0
Denmark, and many of the courts in Germany, fol-
owed the same example. Woollen manufactures were
encouraged, and his Danish majesty sent three persons
into Arabia Felix to make remarks, and bring over
such plants and trees as would be useful in husbandry,
building, and rural affairs. J
I be duchy of Wirtemburg, also, a country by no
means unfertile, but even friendly to corn and pasture-
age, has contributed its assistance towards the improve-
ment of agriculture, having more than 50 years since
published 14 economical relations at Stutgard.
Neither must we forget the very assiduous attention
of the. learned in Leipsic and Hanover to this import¬
ant object. During the rage and devastation of a long
war, they cultivated the arts of peace ; witness the
Journal d'Agriculture printed at Leipsic, and the 7?e-
cueils d?Hanover printed in that city.
Even Spain, constitutionally and’habitually inactive
on such occasions, in spite of all their natural indo¬
lence, and the prejudices of bigotry, invited Linnseus,
with the offer of a large pension, to superintend a col¬
lege founded for the purpose of making new inquiries
into the history of nature and the art of agriculture.
Among the Japanese, agriculture is in great re¬
pute ; and among the Chinese it is distinguished and
encouraged by the court beyond all other sciences.
The emperor of China yearly, at the beginning of
spring, goes to plough in person, attended by all the
princes and grandees of the empire. The ceremony is
performed with great solemnity ; and is accompanied
with a sacrifice, which the emperor, as high-priest, of¬
fers to Chang-li, to ensure a plentiful crop in favour of
his people.
But, without any improper partiality to our own
country, we are fully justified in asserting, that Bri¬
tain alone exceeds all modern nations in husbandry ;
and fi om the spirit which for the last twenty years
has animated many of our nobility and gentry, to
become the liberal patrons of improvement, there
is reason to hope that this most useful of arts will
in a few years, be carried to a greater pitch of perfec¬
tion than it has ever yet attained in any age or
country.—The Royal Society, the Bath Society, and
the Society of Arts, &c. in particular, have been sig¬
nally useful in this respect; and the other associations,
which are now established in many parts of the king¬
dom, co-operate with them in forwarding their laudable
design.
It is not, however, to the exertion of public socie¬
ties, excellent and honourable as they are, that all our
modern improvements in agriculture owe their origin.
To the natural genius of the people have been added
the theory and practice of all nations in ancient and
modern times. This accumulated mass of knowledge
has been arranged, divided, and subdivided ; and after
passing the test of practical experiments, the essential
and most valuable parts of it have been preserved, im¬
proved, and amply diffused in the works of Lord Kames,
Mr Aoung, Stiilingfleet, Dr Hunter, Anderson, Dick¬
son, Ellis, Randal, Lisle, Marshal, Mortimer, Duhamel,
Bradley, Kent, Mills, and a few other writers upon
Q q 2 this
307
ture.
308 A G R I C U
this great art of rendering mankind happy, wealthy,
8 and powerful.
The board We also remark with much satisfaction, that the
of agvieul- J3ritish government has of late years thought fitto ren¬
der the improvement of agriculture an object of public
attention and encouragement, by the institution of a
Hoard of Agriculture.—About the year 1790, Sir John
Sinclair, Bart, invited the clergy of the church of
Scotland to transmit to him descriptions of the state of
their different parishes, with a view to the publication
of what is called a Statistical Account of Scotland. The
whole members of this body having readily complied
with his request, a work in 20 volumes octavo was
compiled from the materials afforded by them, con¬
taining an account of the agriculture, manufactures, and
population of the country. The same gentleman, a-
bout that period, was also active in obtaining the in¬
stitution of a private society, called The British Wool
Society, which was very successful in calling the atten¬
tion of the public to the improvement of that important
article of national growth and manufacture. By these
patriotic exertions, having acquired a considerable share
of popularity, he was encouraged on 15th May 1793,
to make a motion in the house of commons, of which
he was a member, for an address to the crown, recom¬
mending the institution of a board of agriculture. The
chancellor of the exchequer, Mr Pitt, on perceiving
that the proposal was acceptable to the majority of the
bouse, gave it a decided support, and on the 17th May,
to which the debate had been adjourned, the motion
was carried for an address to his majesty to institute
such a board, at an expence not exceeding 3000I.—In
consequence of this application, a charter passed the
L T U R E. Histo;
great seal, incorporating the members of administration
for the time, with the archbishops of Canterbury and
York, and all their successors in office, together with
certain other noblemen and gentlemen, into a board or
society, by the name of the Board or Society for the en¬
couragement of Agriculture and internal improvement,
under the patronage of the crown ; with power to the
members to elect office-bearers and successors to them¬
selves : and in the mean time Sir John Sinclair was ap¬
pointed to be the first president, to continue in office
till 25th March following 5 Sir John Caul, Bart, was
appointed to be the first treasurer, and Arthur Young,
Esq. so well known for his agricultural publications,
was appointed secretary. ^
The regular sittings of the board did not commence Commei
till 23d January 1794, since which time it has conti-mentofl
nued to exert a very considerable degree of activity inslUinSsj
establishing an extensive foreign correspondence, and in
procuring and publishing every kind of useful domestic
agricultural intelligence, some specimens of which we
shall afterwards have occasion to notice. This board,
soon after its institution, also employed persons of
known reputation to prepare agricultural surveys of
every county in the island of Great Britain.—-Many
of these surveys have been published, and form treatises
upon this important art, which, for extent of intelli¬
gence and ability of execution, have not been exceeded
in any age or country. The board has also obtained
parliamentary rewards to some individuals for important
discoveries, and has offered premiums for essays or trea¬
tises upon subjects connected with the purpose of its in¬
stitution, which have produced a great variety of valu¬
able and ingenious disquisitions.
THEORY OF AGRICULTURE.
IN an art that is so necessary to mankind, and that
has been so universally practised, it might perhaps be
expected, that the principles upon which its operations
depend, would have been by this time completely and
accurately investigated, and consequently that a cor-
io rect theory of agriculture could easily be exhibited.
The theory This, however, is by no means the case *? and it is not
of agricul- a little singular, that, in this most useful of all arts, the
ture is de- theory should still be more defective than in almost any
iectivc. science with which we are acquainted. It is fortunate,
however, for the human race, that in most cases, or at
least in all important arts, they succeed better in prac¬
tice than in speculation. During many ages, various
artists were accustomed to extract the most ordinary,
but most useful metals, from the state of ore or earth
^in which nature produces them, and to reduce them
back from their metallic form and lustre, to a state of
ore or earth again. These artists were unacquainted
with the principles upon which the success of their ope¬
rations depended 5 and it is only within these few years
that some ingenious chemists have successfully investi¬
gated the nature of these processes, and have explained
what they have called the oxygenation and disoxygena-
tion of metals. The same thing has happened in agricul¬
ture. Men have often cultivated the ground well, while
they have speculated ill concerning the mode of doing so.
Various reasons render it still more difficult to form
a complete theory of agriculture, than of chemistry, Difficiill
mechanics, or other arts. In agriculture, an experi-of fomil
ment cannot be made in an instant, or even in an hour,11,
or in a day or two. A whole season must pass away
before a single experiment can be performed, and after
all, as in other arts, the inquirer after truth may be
misled by some unobserved circumstances. Some fact,
quite foreign to the experiment itself, arising out of the
peculiar state of the soil, or of the train of seasons, may
produce plentiful crops for a year or two, though, in
ordinary circumstances, no such effect would follow :
and the ingenious contriver of the experiment, who
thought he had made an important discovery, may af¬
terwards derive from it only disappointment and morti¬
fication. But human life is too short to admit a very
great variety of agricultural experiments to be perform¬
ed by the same individual. After a few seasons, he
must leave his place to be occupied by a new inquirer,
possessed of a different character and of difi’erent views.
Unfortunately, till of late years, it was not usual for
husbandmen to publish, and thus to immortalize and
diffuse over whole nations, the result of their private
experience and reflections. Scattered over the face of
great countries, and having little intercourse with, fo¬
reigners, or even with each other, they knew little of
what was done by men engaged in the same profession,
though at no great distance.—In this way, the benefit
lieory. ^ A G R I C U
hgetables 0f local discoveries was not communicated to the world
I Mlf at larSe’.nor was an opportunity atForded of eradicating
local prejudices and erroneous practices. As the state
ot this valuable profession is now rapidly altering in
these respects, there is little doubt that we are fast ap¬
proaching towards a period at which it will be possible
to exhibit a clear and correct theory of agriculture, or
to arrange under a few simple heads the rules or prin¬
ciples upon which the practice of the art depends.—
What we are now to offer, is not to be considered as
perfect, nor even as possessing any near approxima¬
tion towards a perfect theory of the husbandman’s art j
but meiely, such a general statement of its principles
as results from the degree of information hitherto col¬
lected upon the subject.
A theory, or general view of the principles of agri¬
culture seems necessarily to resolve itself into the two
following investigations : ist, To inquire, among the
great variety of vegetables that exist in nature, what
particular plants ought to he regarded as most worthy
of cultivation : and 2dly, To consider the best mode of
cultivating with success the plants thus selected.
With regard to the first of these divisions of the sub-
ia au- Jecl> 01 ^le vegetables that ought to be chosen as most
te and valuable and worthy of cultivation, it may be observed,
live, that the value of a plant is of two kinds, absolute, or
relative: The absolute value of a plant depends upon
its fitness to afford subsistence to the human species,
whereas its relative value consists of the tendency which
the cultivation of it will have to enrich a particular
husbandman, or class of husbandmen, either because
their lands are well adapted for its growth, or because
there is a ready market for it in the vicinity, where it
bears a high price.
:u ai- , ni|1g the absolute value of plants, or their ten-
iy and “ency to aff°rd subsistence to mankind, it is to be ob-
rectly. served, that some plants are directly useful or valuable,
because they are immediately consumed as food by man,
such as wheat, oats, or potatoes 5 whereas mankind de¬
rive subsistence from another class of plants, only in an
indirect manner, by giving them to cattle, and after¬
wards eating the flesh of these cattle, as happens with
regard to grass and straw of all kinds.
12
tat it
ht to
tain.
13
value
:geta-
is ab-
L T U R E. 309
howevei, that in any nation of ancient or modern times, y^etaUe*
forests ot fruit-bearing trees have been reared with a Food for
view to akord subsistence to the community. For this Wan.
two reasons may be assigned. In the first place, a con-
siderable number of years must elapse, before such plants beca^e
could arrive at maturity, and fulfil the purpose of their they ripen
destination. Of whatever use therefore they might be s|owly, and
to future ages, it is evident that they could afford little ai'1cdeslroy'
benefit to the generation which planted them. But in e‘ 111 War'
a question about subsistence, mankind are usually under
the necessity of considering their own iipmediate wants,
and hence they have been led to the cultivation of such
plants, as afford the most speedy reward for the efforts
of their industry. Another reason for preferring the cul¬
ture of small annual plants, to the greater and more per¬
manent productions of nature, would arise, in the early
ages of the world, from the turbulent state of society
and the frequency of wars. A community that should
depend for its subsistence upon the fruit of forest trees
might be ruined for half a century by the inroad of
an enemy. An example of this was exhibited in the war
between Great Britain and her North American colo-
When the parent state hired the savages on the
r4
y are
ill di-
Sect. I. Of Vegetables to be cultivated as Food for
T, ' Man.
aits . vegetables afford subsistence to the human spe-
roots. Cies by means of the fruit that grows upon them, which
hangs, and is brought to maturity in the air, at the sum¬
mit of their stems. Other vegetables derive their value
from producing roots, which come to maturity in the
bosom of the soil, and are dug from thence to be con-
id sinned by mankind.
rusted • °f frait“!>earInS vegetables, those called trees, which
r food riSe aloft v/itl) a strong trunk, are the most permanent
’ and remarkable. It is said that a spot of ground, oc¬
cupied by some kinds of trees, such as chesnuts or dates,
is capable of producing a very great portion of food’
useful for the support of the human species. One ad¬
vantage attending the cultivation of such vegetables
would be that, after the trees are planted, and secured
by fences for a few years against animals, they would for
ever after, or at least for many years, continue to grow
and flourish without care or labour. It does not appear,
mes.
western frontier, to join her party, and to make inroads
upon the colonists, the latter retaliated upon the savages
in the following manner. Several of the colonies united
m sending an expedition against the Indians. The bodies
of militia employed upon this expedition, were surprised
to find small corn fields around a considerable number of
the Indian hamlets. They were not satisfied however
with destroying the huts of the natives, and these incipi¬
ent efforts of Savage industry ; but they anxiously sought
out and destroyed every fruit-bearing tree that they
found in their progress of almost a thousand miles, there¬
by rendering the wilderness utterly uninhabitable to
a people destitute of agriculture, and who could not al¬
ways depend for subsistence upon their success in hunt-
ing.. From this example we see that the frequent wars
arising from the barbarous character of ancient nations,
would compel them to seek subsistence, not from the’
fruit of forest trees, but from grain, which speedily ar-
lives at maturity, and which when destroyed can soon
be renewed. Thus war becomes a less wasteful scourge
to the human race, and communities are enabled spee¬
dily to recover from the devastation which it produces.
Had the nations of Europe depended for subsistence,'
upon any fruits which could not be speedily restored
when destroyed, it is evident, that, in the late sangui¬
nary conflict, the greater number of them must have
been irretrievably ruined.
Hence it appears that the cultivation of plants of an- Menrather
nual growth, as a source of subsistence, is favourable totrust t0
the permanence of civilization in the world ; and that8rail1-
before nations can venture to rely for their subsistence
upon the fruit of plants of slower growth, their charac-
<.ei must have arrived at a degree of moral amelioration
far superior to what it has ever been known to possess.
Of annual plants cultivated for fruit, wheat has al¬
ways been accounted the most valuable. This has pro¬
bably arisen from the extreme facility with which the
flour of it undergoes a process of fermentation, which
renders it capable of becoming a more light and agree¬
able kind of bread than the flour of any other grain.
’I his quality is believed to arise from a quantity of a
substance contained in wheat that is of the same nature
with
3io
Vegetables
Food for
Man.
19
Oats a va¬
luable
20
Barley va¬
luable from
its easy con¬
version to a
saccharine
substance.
21
Different
kinds of
grain are
not essen*
tially dif¬
ferent.
Roots used
as human
food.
A G R I C
with the gluten, or glue, that is prepared from animal
bodies. In other respects, however, it does not appear
that wheat is more valuable than some other kinds of
grain by means of long boiling, a given weight of bar¬
ley, or even of oats, will render a quantity of water as
thick or full of mucilage as can be done by the same
weight of wheat.
After wheat, oats have in our country been con¬
sidered as of very great importance. It is a hardy and
beautiful plant-, grows with little cultivation, and is
particularly well suited for lands newly brought in
from a state of nature, upon which it was always used
as the first crop, till the introduction of the turnip hus¬
bandry. The meal of it is usually very coarsely grind¬
ed, and mixed with a considerable quantity of the inner
covering of the grain. Hence it has always a consider¬
able degree of roughness, and is harsh, and unsuited to
very delicate constitutions ; but this very harshness,
from its stimulant effect, producing a feeling of warmth
in the stomach, renders it more grateful to persons
much exposed to the open air, and accustomed to hard
labour, who account it a hearty kind of food. Essen¬
tially, and in its intrinsic qualities, this grain differs
little from some others.
Barley is chiefly valued in consequence of the facili¬
ty with which it produces a great quantity, of saccharine
matter by the process of vegetation or malting, which
fits it for the preparation of vinous or spirituous li¬
quors. Pease are also sometimes used when grinded in¬
to meal as an article of human food j but on account ol
their viscid and indigestible quality, they can never be¬
come valuable in that point of view, unless to persons
engaged in the open air, in the most active and severe
kinds of labour.
In other respects, however, it does not appear that
there is much difference in point of quality or whole¬
someness between the various kinds of grain cultivated
in different countries. They are all capable of affording
nourishment to the human constitution, and of preserv¬
ing it in health and vigour : When grinded into meal,
they require little farther preparation, and are easily
made into bread, or otherwise prepared for immediate
consumption, by being mixed according to the fancy or
taste of different nations, with a small quantity of wa¬
ter, or any other liquid.
Of the roots which are used to afford subsistence to
man, the potato has hitherto been the principal. The
rest, consisting chiefly of carrots, turnips, and parsnips,
are never used as a sole nutriment, being rather adopt¬
ed for the purpose of giving variety and relish to other
food, and chiefly to butchers meat. The potato, how¬
ever, is in some measure an exception to this general
rule. It contains a large quantity of starch, which does
not seem inferior to the starch prepared from wheat, so
far at least as that ingredient is to be regarded as con¬
tributing to the nourishing qualities of the grain. Its
taste resembles, more nearly than any other root, the
taste of bread ; and accordingly it is daily beginning to
be more extensively used, and to form a larger portion
of the food of the poor. The celebrated Dr Adam
Smith long since remarked its tendency to produce a
strong and handsome race of people, as demonstrated
by its effect upon the common people of Ireland, who
have for a considerable length of time in a great mea¬
sure subsisted upon it.
U L T U R E.
Theor
It is to be observed concerning all the roots nowyegetay
mentioned, that a crop of them always contains a much Foodfo
larger quantity of human food than a crop of any kind
of grain upon the same extent of ground. A Scots ^
acre of good land, which will not produce more than Thc/p,-,,
1280 pounds weight of oatmeal, will easily produce duce mei
20,000 pounds weight of potatoes, and will sometimes fo°d thai
in favourable seasons produce 30,000 or 33,000 pounds§rain‘
weight of that valuable root. a.
Potatoes, however, and all the other roots, have hi-Their de l
therto possessed these radical defects: The carriage offeeta*
them is extremely expensive, in consequence of their too^‘
weight, arising from the vast quantity of moisture they ^
contain. Hence they can only be cultivated in abun-portatioa;
dance in the vicinity of great towns, or where they of them <1
are meant to be consumed upon the farm as the food of P®118^8-
cattle. j6
Boots are also incapable of long preservation. In Are unit
the winter they are destroyed by frost, and in summer for long
by heat, which causes them to vegetate or to corrupt jPrese”».
both of which changes render them unfit to be used as
food. , 17
These roots are also much more bulky than grain in Too bulk
proportion to the quantity of nourishment contained in for the it
them. Hence they are rendered less fit to be consumed niack
by persons engaged in sedentary professions. Such per¬
sons accordingly seldom fail to find them injurious to the
stomach, by their bulkiness, and their tendency to in¬
jure the powers of digestion, by producing flatulencies
and other unpleasant consequences. 2S
On the whole, the difference between these succulent wherei*
roots and the grain of corn plants seems to amount totheydif.
this, that, although they are both formed of similar sub-ferfrom
stances, the potato being analogous to wheat, and the S™111,
carrot and parsnip to rye, or rather to barley after it
has been converted into malt, yet, as the roots are form¬
ed in the bosom of the soil, and are of a loose and wa¬
tery texture, their formation tequires from nature a
slighter effort than the bringing to perfection the small
grains which are produced in the air at the top of corn
plants. She therefore compensates by an abundant
crop the diminished quality of her work.
Hence it has appeared an important problem in eco-Howthe
nomics, to devise a plan by which the succulent roots may be
of vegetables may be deprived of their superfluous readereii
moisture, that thus human art may perform for themt’a
what nature has not accomplished j and that they may „ra*,.
be rendered completely equal in value to grain in point
of quality, while in quantity they are so superior.
With this view different processes have been adopted. ^
Potatoes have been grated down in their raw state, Potato-
and repeatedly washed with water: the result of which stwek
operation is, that the starch contained in them is ob¬
tained with great labour $ but the rest of the root is lost;
and this operation cannot be applied to other kinds of
roots with success. Another mode of accomplishing ^
the object was devised a few years ago by M. Grenet, Qrenet’S
and published in the Journal of the Lycteum of Artsmodeol
of Paris. It is performed in this manner : The pota-granulfi"
toes must first be boiled by the heat of the steam ofPotal<!(’
boiling water, without touching the water itself. They
are then stript of their skin, and allowed to cool, and
made use of in the following way :—A white iron tube
of two inches diameter, and eight inches in length,
open at the one end and close at the other, is every¬
where
3
heory. AGRICULTURE.
getablcs where perforated with small holes, and a ronnd piece
ood fo» of wood is prepared, which easily goes into the tube,
Man- , but which at the same time fills it. Things being
thus in readiness, a quantity of the potatoes, boiled as
already mentioned, is put into the tube till it is full.
They are then forcibly rammed down with the round
piece of wood or piston j the consequence of which
operation is, that they are forced through the little
holes in the sides of the tube, and come out in the shape
of worms. They are received upon linen cloths, co¬
vered with unsized paper, and dried in the heat of the
sun, or in a warm room. The small pieces must be
stirred from time to time ; and it is said, that in less
than 12 hours, the preparation dries so as to be capable
of being preserved.
The defect of this process evidently is, that it is a
petty operation, which can only proceed slowly, and
upon a diminutive scale. It is therefore unlikely to
be adopted in the great operations of an extensive
agriculture, as a mode of preparing or preserving hu-
man food.
For- At the beginning of the present year 1802, another
1’* pro- process for accomplishing this important object was
>lcr. contrived by Robert Forsyth, Esq. advocate. Of this
t»7ntoS process, which has been communicated to the Board of
r. Agriculture, we are authorized to give the following
account :
The whole difficulty of discovering a process, with
the view to render succulent roots as easily preserved
and transported, and therefore in every respect as va¬
luable as grain, seems to arise from our not having the
command of such a degree of steady and vigorous, but
moderate heat, as will deprive them of their moisture,
while at the same time they are prevented from being
burnt or scorched in the way that coffee-beans are
treated before being grinded. This requisite degree
of heat may be obtained in a very cheap and easy man¬
ner, by making use of the steam of boiling water,
which never can burn any vegetable substance. Upon
this principle, Mr Forsyth’s process is founded, and is
conducted in the following manner :
1st, Let a quantity of potatoes, or carrots, or pars¬
nips, &c. be washed, and then cut or chopped into
very small pieces.
2dly, Lay them upon a metallic plate, and dry them
with the heat of steam transmitted through the metal.
They are then in a state analogous to grain, and se^m
capable of being preserved for any length of time.
3dly, Reduce them into flour or meal, by grinding
in any mill, or with any instrument capable of grinding
grain.
The meal or flour thus prepared has no tendency to
attract moisture from the atmosphere, and may be pre¬
served during any length of time, if closely pressed or
packed. Without this precaution, Mr Forsyth has
preserved it for six months, when it had been coarsely
grinded in a coffee mill.
The drying process is not tedious. As potatoes
contain a great quantity of starch or gummy matter,
the pieces of them, while drying, are apt to adhere to
each other; they must therefore be frequently turned
or stirred during that part of the operation. When
dry, they are almost as hard as barley, and taste some¬
what like the skin of a roasted potato.
Carrots and parsnips contain less gummy matter.
They require less attention while drying,'and do not Vegetables
become so hard. They may be grinded with ease. Food for
Their flour is very sweet to the taste. Its smell is Man.
fragrant, and though the taste of the roots cannot be ' ' v
said to be altered, it is rendered rich and agreeable
by the concentration produced by the process. This
is more particularly the case with regard to the pars¬
nips. I heir meal, when coarsely grinded, and exposed
to the air for a month or two, loses its grateful smell,
but the taste continues unchanged. The taste is com¬
municated very rapidly to lukewarm water, by pouring
it upon the meal, so that it may probably prove of
some value when subjected to the vinous fermentation;
and it seems not improbable, that if sugar is ever to
be produced in abundance from plants of European
growth, it must be by preparing them according to
this process.
Mr F orsyth performed his experiments with a steam
apparatus, which, with some alterations, may prove not
unsuitable, when erected upon a great scale.
A, Plate XII, A shallow vessel of white iron, oneMrFor-
foot square, and two inches in depth, for containing sub- ayth’ssteam
stances to be dried. apparatus.
B, a small round vessel, in which water is kept boib
ing by a lamp, C, with three wicks.
D, a tube, by which the steam passes into E, which
contains the drying vessel A, and is closely soldered all
round to the bottom of it.
F, a tube, by which the water formed by the conr
densed steam flows from the steam vessel, E, back .
into the boiler B, entering at the bottom of the
boiler.
G, a crooked tube, by which the superfluous steam
escapes into the open air. It is crooked, that it may
retard the passage of the steam when the vessel is at
work, which forces it to deposit more of its heat on the
bottom of the drying vessel A.
H, a tube by which the boiler B is filled with hot
water.
I, a tube passing up through the centre of the boiler,
and serving as a chimney to the lamp C. . It does not
communicate with the water in the boiler.
K shows the figure of the cover of the drying ves¬
sel A. The cover has a groove or gutter LL, pas¬
sing round its lower edge. The vapour which rises
from the roots when drying, condenses on touching the
cover, and flows down to the gutter, from which it
escapes in the state of water, by a hole left for that pur¬
pose at each corner. The cover is only used for the
neatness requisite in making experiments.
The whole is supported by four moveable feet, attach¬
ed to the corners of the drying vessel A, but not appear¬
ing in the figure. Every part of it is made of white
iron or tinned plate.
Instead of the lamp C, a small iron pan filled with
pieces of burning charcoal, was sometimes used to keep
the water boiling, and a still more convenient plan
was at times adopted during the winter season. It
consisted of resting the bottom of the boiler B, upon
the front of the grate of the chamber, while a fire was
burning, the rest of the instrument being at the same
time supported by a rope attached to the back of a
chair, to a nail or peg in the wall for hanging a pic¬
ture, or to any other convenient support. When used "
in this last manner, however, the instrument has this
defect.
312
Food foi:
Cattle.
A G R I C U
defect, that the water in the tube H boils over at times
into the fire, which might be avoided, by placing the
tube on the opposite side of the boiler.
Upon the above contrivance, it may be remarked
that a kiln formed of a large metallic plate, heated by
the steam of boiling water, may prove valuable in
many processes. In particular, it will probably be
found useful for drying malt, with a view to prevent
the ale formed of it from having a brown colour. It
may also, perhaps, be used with success for drying
wheat that is intended to be sown, to prevent the fu¬
ture crop from suffering by mildew, as will be after-
wards mentioned; and it affords a ready and cheap
mode of drying not only roots, but all vegetable pro¬
ductions, without burning them, or altering their taste
or other essential properties.
L T U R E.
Tlieor
Sect. II. Of the most proper kinds of Vegetables to be
raised for the purposes offeeding Cattle.
33
Cabbages,
tbeir pro¬
perties.
and very probably this is the case : for no vegetable ^00(! ,
inclines more to putrefaction than this 5 and therefore Cattle!
particular care ought to be taken to pull off all the ’
leaves that have any symptoms of decay. Dr Priestley
found that air was rendered noxious by a cabbage leaf.. ^
remaining in it for one night, though the leaf did hot e(jir,[en‘*£|
show any symptom of putrefaction.—Per milk cows, by them,
probably, the cabbages might be rendered more proper
food by boiling them.
The culture of the/turnip-rooted cabbage has lately Turnip,
been much practised, and greatly recommended, parti-rooted c;
cularly for the purpose of a late spring feed ; and seems
indeed to be a most important article in the farming
economy, as will be shown in its proper place.
Turnips likewise produce very bulky crops 5 the ave-Turnips,
rage weight of an English acre being from 20 to 25
tons, and that of a very full crop as high as 30 tons
and upwards.
Carrots are found to be an excellent food for cattle Carrou
of all kinds, and are greatly relished by them. In a
rich sand, according to Mr Young’s account, the pro¬
duce of this root was 200 bushels per acre. In a finer
soil, it rvas 640 bushels per acre. It is probable, indeed,
that carrots will make a more wholesome food for cattle
than either cabbages or turnips, as they are strongly an¬
tiseptic ; insomuch as to be used in poultices for cor¬
recting the sanies of cancers. It is probably owing to
this, that the milk of cows fed on carrots is never found
to have any bad taste. Six horses kept on them through
the winter without oats, performed their work as usual,
and looked equally well. This may be looked upon as
a proof of their salubrity as a food j and it certainly
can be no detriment to a farmer, to be so much ver-
sant in medical matters as to know the impropriety of
giving putrescent food to his cattle. It is well known
what a prodigious difference there is in the health of
the human species when fed on putrid meats, in com¬
parison of what they enjoy when supplied with food of
a contrary nature 5 and why may there not be a dif¬
ference in the health of beasts, as well as of men, when
in similar circumstances ?—It is also very probable,
that as carrots are more solid than cabbages or tur¬
nips, they go much farther in feeding cattle than either
of them.
Potatoes likewise appear to be a very palatable food Potatoes.!
for all kinds of cattle ; and not only oxen, hogs, &c.
are easily fed by them, but even poultry. According
to a correspondent of the Bath Society*, “ roasting*
pork is never so moist and delicate as when fed with ani
potatoes, and killed from the barn doors without any on JgHfl1
confinement. For bacon and hams, two bushels of pea-
meal should be well incorporated with four bushels of^°t|
boiled potatoes, which quantity will fat a hog of twelve”
stone, (fourteen pounds to the stone).
Buck-wheat (Polygonum fagopyruni) has been lately 1
recommended as an useful article in the present as well vvi)eat.
as other respects. It has been chiefly applied to the
feeding of hogs, and esteemed equal in value to barley ;
it is much more easily ground than barley, as a malt-mill
will grind it completely. Horses are very fond of the
grain ; poultry of all sorts are speedily fattened by it;
and the blossom of the plant affords food for bees at a
very opportune season of the year, when the meadows
and trees are mostly stripped of their flowers. Probably
the grain may hereafter be even found a material article
Though this must be an article of the utmost con¬
sequence to every farmer, we do not find that it has
been much considered. Mr Anderson seems to have
been the first writer on agriculture who hath properly
attended to this subject 5 and what he hath wrote upon
it, is rather a catalogue of desiderata than any thing
else: and indeed the desiderata on this subject are
so many and so great, that we must acknowledge our¬
selves very unable to fill them up. To attain to a
competent knowledge in this respect, the following
34 things must be taken into consideration. (1.) The
Qualities of wholesomeness of the food for cattle, with regard to
ila J'sk'1 lb- health and strength, or fatness. (2.) The quantity
cattle. ^ ° that any extent of ground is capable of yielding. (3.)
The quantity necessary to feed the different kinds of
cattle. (4.) The labour of cultivation j and, (5.) The
soil they require to bring them to perfection, and the
effect they have upon it.
With regard to the wholesomeness, it is plain, that
as the natural food of wild cattle is the green succulent
plants they meet with all the year round, food of this
kind, could it be had, must be preferable to hay ; and
accordingly we find that cattle will always prefer suc¬
culent vegetables where they can get them. To find
plants of this kind, and having proper qualities in 0-
ther respects, we nuist search among those which con¬
tinue green all the year round, or come to their great¬
est perfection in the winter time.—Of these, cabbages
bid fair for holding the first place 5 both as being very
succulent, and a very large quantity of them growing
upon a small space of ground. In Mr Young’s Six
Months Tour, we have an account of the produce of
cabbages in many different places, and on a variety of
soils. The produce by Mr Crow at Keplin, on a clay
soil, W'as, on an average of six years, 35 tons per acre ;
by Mr Smelt at the Leases, on a sandy gravel, 18 tons
per acre 5 by Mr Scroop at Danby, on an average of
six years, 37 tons per acre: and the general average
of all the accounts given by Mr Young, is 36 tons per
acre.
Cabbages, however, have the great inconveniency
of sometimes imparting a disagreeable flavour to the
milk of cows fed with them, and even to the flesh of
other cattle. This, it is said, may be -prevented by
carefully picking off the decayed and withered leaves ;
2’
40
bod for
Cattle.
42
lins an
ellent
1 for
;es.
Jleoiy; A G R I C U
in distillation, should a sufficient quantity be raised with
1 .v,.ew* ^ro"1 the success of some experiments de¬
tailed in the Bath Society Papers, and for which a pre¬
mium was bestowed, it has been inferred that this arti¬
cle ought in numerous cases to supersede the practice
ot summer-fallowing.
Whins have lately been recommended as a very pro¬
per food for cattle, especially horses 5 and are recom¬
mended by ivlr Anderson in a particular manner. They
have this advantage, that they require no culture, and
grow on the very worst soil j but they are troublesome
to cut, and require to.be bruised in a mill construct¬
ed tor the purpose ; neither is the ground at all melio¬
rated by letting whins grow upon it for any length of
time. Notwithstanding these disadvantages, however
as whins continue green all the year round, and when
bruised will afford an excellent succulent food, which
seems possessed of strongly invigorating qualities, they
may be looked upon as the cheapest winter food that
can possibly be given to cattle.—According to the cal¬
culations of Mr Eddison of Gateford, a single acre, well
cropped with whins, will winter six horses : at three or
four years growth, the whole crop should be taken, cut
close to the ground, and carried to the mill j in which
the whins are to be bruised, and then given to the horses
four acres ought to be planted, that one may be used
each year, at the proper age to be cut; and he reckons
the labour of one man sufficient for providing food to
this number of horses. He says, they all prefer the
whins to hay, or even to corn.
el TJie herb called burnet hath likewise been recom¬
mended as proper food for cattle, on account of its be¬
ing an evergreen 5 and further recommended, by grow¬
ing almost as fast in winter as in summer. Of this
herb, however, we have very various accounts. In a
£tt®f.atdre.ssed b7 James Caldwell, F. R. S. to the
Dublin Society, the culture of this plant is strongly
recommended, on the authority of one Bartholomew
Rocque, farmer at Walham-Green, a village about
4. three miles south-west of London,
n- What gave occasion to the recommendation of this
me/ P ant’ 7af’ t lat ab<?Ut the year I76o> Mr Wych, chair-
ell. ™n. ot „the committee of Agriculture of the London
Society for the encouragement of arts, manufactures,
and commerce, came to Rocque (who was become very
eminent by the premiums he had received from the so¬
ciety), and told him, he had been thinking, that as
there are many animals which subsist wholly upon the
trmts of the earth, there must certainly be some plant
or herb fit for them that naturally vegetates in winterk
otherwise we must believe the Creator, infinitely wise
and good, to have made creatures without providing
for their subsistence j and that if there bad been no
such plants or herbs, many species of animals would
have perished before we took them out of the hands of
nature, and provided for them dry meat at a season
when, indigenous plants having been indiscriminately’
excluded under the name of weeds, from cultivated
helds and places set apart for natural grass, green or
fresh meat was no longer to be found.
Rocque allowed the force of this reasoning; but said
the knowledge of a grass, or artificial pasture, that
would vegetate m winter, and produce green fodder
Z C.attl®VWasrlost^ at !east> that he knew of no such
^ Vol I ^ t J1’ boWeVer’ knowing how very great
L T U R E.
that advantage would be of discovering a green fodder
for winter and early in the spring, wrote to Bern, and
also to some considerable places in Sweden, stating the
same argument, and asking the same question. His
gNer'bv R 686 ^ ^ the Same that had beei1
Plant but^ there must be snch
at’ a// decIaretl they d»d not know it.
Mr Mych then applied again to Rocque: and de-
J/6 I1.1™ ,t0 Searcb for tbe plant so much desired, and
with rr 7 ex.\shng- Rocque set about this search
with great assiduity; and finding that a pimpernel
called W* was of very speedy growth, and grew
nearly as fast in wmter as in summer, he took a handful
of 1 and carried it into his stable, where there were
five horses ; every one of which ate of it with the great¬
est eagerness, snatching it even without first smell¬
ing it. Upon the success of this experiment he went to
London, and bought all the burnet seed he could yet
W0nUnning ‘V*0 than ei’ght Pound8» having
been only used in salads; and he paid for it at the rate
of 4s. a pound Six of the eight pounds of seed he
sowed upon half an acre of ground, in March, in the
year 1761, with a quarter of a peck of sprino- wheat
both V ha„d. The d being Pery bad>P.t 8
but thin. However, he sowed the other two pounds in
le beginning of June, upon about six rood of ground :
this he mowed m the beginning of August; and at
Michaelmas he planted off the plants on about 20 rood
ot ground, giving each plant a foot every way, and
taking care not to bury the heart. These planis bore
two crops of seed the year following; the first about
the middle of June, the second about the middle of
September; but the June crop was the best. The
year after it grew very rank, and produced two crops
of seed both very good. As it ought not to be cut
after September, he let it stand till the next year ;
when it sheltered itself, and grew very well during all
the winter, except when there was a hard frost; and
even during the frost it continued green, though it
was not perceived to grow. In the March following
it covered the ground very well, and was fit to receive
CttCt J c#
If the winter is not remarkably severe, the burnet,
though cut in September, will be 18 inches long in
March j and it may be fed from the beginning of Fe¬
bruary till May: if the cattle are taken off in May
there will be a good crop of seed in the beginning of
July. live weeks after the cattle are taken off, it may
be removed, if that is preferred to its standing for seed.
It grows at the rate of an inch a-day, and is made into
hay like other grass. It may be mown three times in
one summer, and should be cut just before it begins to
bower. Six rood of ground has produced 1150 pounds \
at the first cutting of the third year after it was sowed -
and in autumn 1763, Rocque sold no less than 300
bushels of the seed. J
. According to Rocque, the soil in which burnet flou¬
rishes, best, is a dry gravel; the longest drought never
hurts it: and Sir James Caldwell asserts, that he saw a
very vigorous and exuberant plant of this kind, growing
fiom between two bricks in a wall in Rocque’s ground,
without any communication with the soil; for he had
cut away all the fibres of the root that had stretched
downward, and penetrated the earth long before.
Burnet was found equally fit for feeding cows, sheep,
R r and
3H
Food for
Cattle.
A G R I C U
ami horses j but the sheep must not be suffered to crop
it too close. Though no seed was left among the hay,
yet it proved nourishing food •, andKocque kept a horse
upon nothing else, who, at the time of writing the ac¬
count, was in good heart, and looked well. He affirm¬
ed also, that it cured horses of the distemper called the
grease, and that by its means he cured one which was
thought incurable j but says, it is only the first crop
which has this effect.
This is the substance of Sir James Caldwell’s letter
koned an to the Dublin Society, at least as to what regards the
improper culture of burnet} and it might reasonably be expect-
MiHeraml t^at a P'ant> 'v’hose use was recommended to the
Mr Ander- public with so much parade, would soon have come into
45
Burnet rec-
recom-
aiended.
universal esteem. We were surprised, therefore, on
looking into Mr Miller’s Dictionary, to find the fol¬
lowing words, under the article Poterwm :—“ This
plant has of late been recommended by persons of little
skill, to be sown as a winter pabulum for cattle : but
whoever will give themselves the trouble to examine
the grounds where it naturally grows, will find the
plants left uneaten by the cattle, when the grass about
them has been cropped to the roots j besides, in wet
winters, and in strong land, the plants are of short
duration, and therefore very unfit for that purpose
nor is the produce sufficient to tempt any person of
skill to engage in its culture} therefore I wish those
persons to make trial of it in small quantities, before
they embark largely in these new schemes.”—Mr An¬
derson, too, in his fcssays on Agriculture, mentions the
produce of burnet being so small, as not to be worth
5 cultivating.
White beet Upon the authority of Mr Rocque, likewise, the
white beet is recommended as a most excellent food
for cows ; that it vegetates during the whole winter,
consequently is very forward in the spring j and that
the most profitable way of feeding cows is to mow this
herb, and give it to them green all the summer. It
grew in Rocque’s garden, during a very great drought,
no less than four feet high, from the 30th of May to
the 3d of July j which is no more than one month and
four days. In summer it grows more than an inch a-
day 5 and is best sown in March : a bushel is enough
for an acre, and will not cost more than ten shillings.
It thrives best in a rich, deep, light soil: the stalks are
very thick and succulent; the cows should therefore eat
them green.
Another species of beet (Beta ctcla'), the Mangel
Wurzel, or Root of Scarcity, as it has been called, has
been lately extolled as food both for man and cattle j
but, after all, seems only to deserve attention in the
latter view. It is a biennial plant j the root is large
and fleshy, sometimes a foot in diameter. It rises above
the ground several inches, is thickest at the top, taper¬
ing gradually downward. The roots are of various co¬
lours, white, yellow, and red ; but these last are al¬
ways of a much paler colour than beetrave. It is good
fodder for cows, and does not communicate any taste
to the milk. It produces great abundance of leaves
in summer, which may be cut three or four times with¬
out injuring the plant. The leaves are more palatable
to cattle than most other garden plants, and are found
to be very wholesome. The farmers in those parts of
Germany where it is chiefly cultivated, we are told,
prefer this species of beet, for feeding cattle, to cab*
47
Root of
scarcity
L T U R E. Theory.
bages, principally because they are not so liable to be f00(i fM
hurt by worms or insects but they think they are not Catilt.
so nourishing as turnips, potatoes, or carrots, and thaty-—J
cattle are not nearly so soon fattened by this root as by
carrots, parsnips, or cabbages. It has even been as¬
serted that this root affords less nourishment than any
of those that have been commonly employed for feeding
cattle. This does not correspond with the pompous ac¬
counts with which the public has been entertained. Up¬
on the whole, however, it is a plant that seems to de¬
serve the attention of our farmers •, as on some soils,
and in particular circumstances, it may prove a very
useful article for the above purposes.
In Mr Anderson’s Essays, we find it recommended to Sheep’s fed
make trial of some kinds of grasses, which probably cue gnus. 1
would not only answer for fresh fodder during the win¬
ter, but might also be cut for hay in summer. This
is particularly the case with that species called sheep''s
fescue grass. “ I had, says he, a small patch of this
grass in winter *773 ; which, having been cut in the
month of August or September preceding, was saved
from that period, and had advanced before winter to
the length of five or six inches •, forming the closest pile
that could be imagined. And although we had about
six weeks of very intense frost, with snow, and about
other six weeks, immediately succeeding that, of ex¬
ceeding keen frost every night, with Irequent thaws in
the day time, without any snow, during which time al¬
most every green thing was destroyed •, yet this little
patch continued all along to retain as fine a verdure as
any meadow in the month of May } hardly a point ot
a leaf having been withered by the uncommon seventy
of the weather. And as this grass begins to vegetate
very early in the spring, I leave the reader to judge
what might be the value of a field of grass of this kind
in these circumstances.” 49
Of another kind of grass, called purple fescue, Mr Purple tes-Jj
Anderson gives the following character: “ It retained c',e•
its verdiu-e much better than rye-grass during the win¬
ter season } but it had more of its points killed by the
weather than the former. It likewise rises in the
spring, at least as early as rye-grass.”
This ingenious farmer has also made experiments on
the culture of these and several other kinds of grasses $.
which being very well worthy of attention, we shall
here insert.
I. Purple fescue grass. “ Although this grass is very
often found in old pastures, yet, as it has but few flower-
stalks, and as it is greedily eaten by all domestic animals,
these are seldom suffered to appear j so that it usually
remains there unperceived. But it seems to be better
able to endure the peculiar acrimony of the dung of
dogs than almost any other plant j and is therefore of¬
ten to be met with in dog hills, as I call the little hills
by roadJTsides where dogs usually piss and dung: and
as it is allowed to grow there undisturbed, the farmer
may have an opportunity of examining the plant, and
becoming acquainted with its appearance. »
“ The leaves are long and small, and appear to be
roundish, something like a wire •, but, upon exami¬
nation, they are found not to be tubulated like a
reed or rush ; the sides of the leaf being only folded
together from the middle rib, exactly like the strong
bent-grass on the sea shore. The flower-stalk is small,
and branches out in the head, a little resembling the
wild
A G R I C U
,r wild oat j only the grains are much smaller, anti the
. ear does not spread lull open, but lies bending a little
to one side. 'Ihe stalks are often spotted with reddish
freckles, and the tops of the roots are usually tinged
rvith the same colour j from whence it has probably
obtained its distinctive name oi feshica rubra, or ra^
(purple) fescue.
“ It is often to be met with in old garden walks;
and, as its leaves advance very quickly after cutting,
it may usually be discovered above the other grasses,
about a week or fortnight after the walks are cut.
Nor do they seem to advance only at one season, and
then stop and decay, like the rye-grass j but continue
to advance during the whole of the summer, even
where they are not cut} so that they sometimes at¬
tain a very great length. Last season (1774), I mea¬
sured a leaf of this grass, that sprung up in a neglected
corner, which was four feet and four inches in length,
although not thicker than a small wire. It is unneces¬
sary to add, that these leaves naturally trail upon the
ground, unless where they meet with some accidental
support; and that if any quantity of it is suffered to
glow for a whole season, without being eaten dowm or
cut, the roots of the leaves are almost rotted, by the
overshadowing of the tops of the other leaves, before
the end of the seasbn.
“ This, is the appearance and condition of the plant
in its native situation : as it is seldom that it is disco-
vered but in pretty old pastures, and as in that state it
carries only a very few seed-stalks, it was with some
difficulty that I could collect a small handful of the seed,
which I carefully sowed in a small patch of garden
mould, to tiy if it could be easily cultivated. It came
up as quickly as any other kind of grass, but was at
first as small as hairs: the leaves, however, advanced
apace ; and were, before autumn, when the grain with
which they had been sowed was cut down, about l6
or. 18 . inches in length j but having been sown very
thin, it ivas necessary to pick out some other kinds of
grass that came up amongst it, lest it might have been
choked by them. .Early next spring it advanced with
prodigious vigour, and the tufts that were formed from
every seed became exceeding large; so that it quickly
filled the whole ground. But now the leaves were al¬
most as broad as those of common rye-grass, and the
two sides only inclined a little towards one another
from the. mid-rib, without any appearance of roundness.
In due time a great many seed-stalks sprung out, which
attained very nearly to the height of four feet, and
produced seeds in abundance $ which may be as easily
saved as those of common rye-grass.
“ Hie prodigious difference between this plant in its
native and cultivated state amazed me j but it was with
a good deal of satisfaction that I found there would be
no difficulty in procuring seeds from it, which I had
much doubted of at first. It would seem, that nature
hath endowed this plant with a strong generative power
during its youth, which it gradually loses as it advan¬
ces in age (for the difference perceived in this case
could not be attributed to the richness of the soil) ;
and that, on the contrary, when it was old, the leaves
advanced with an additional vigour, in proportion to
the declining strength of the flower stalks : for the
leaves of the young plants seldom exceed two feet,
315
Food for
Cattle.
L T U R E.
whereas numbers of the old leaves were near four feet
m length.
. 44 * r°m these peculiarities in the growth of this plant, — v —
it would seem to promise to be of great use to the far¬
mer ; as he could reap from afield of it, for the first two
or three years, as great a weight of hay as he could
obtain from any of the culmiferous grasses (those bear-
ing a long jointed stalk j and, if he meant afterwards
to pasture it, he would suffer no inconveniences from
the flower-stalks ; and the succulent leaves that con-
tniue to vegetate during the whole summer, would at
all times furnish his cattle with abundance of whole¬
some food. It has also been remarked, that this grass
rises as early in the spring as rye-grass j and continues
green for the greatest part of winter, which the other
does not. It is moreover an abiding plant, as it seems
never to wear out of the ground where it has once
been established. On all which accounts, it appears
to me highly to merit the attention of the farmer ; and
well deserves to have its several qualities, and the cul¬
ture that best agrees -with it, ascertained by accurate
experiments.
2. “ Sheep's fescue grass, or festuca ovina, is much 5*
praised by the Swedish naturalists for its singular value Cuede& CS
as a pasture-grass for sheep ; this animal being repre- scribed,
sented as fonder of it than of any other grass, and fat¬
tening upon it more quickly than on any other kind of
food whatever. And indeed, the general appearance
of the plant, and its peculiar manner of growth, seems
very much to favour the accounts that have been o-iven
us of it. 13
“ This plant is of the same family with the former,
and agrees with it in several respects ; although they
may be easily distinguished from one another. Its
leaves, like the former, in its natural state, are always
lounded, but much smaller j being little bigger than
large horse hairs, or swine-bristles, and seldom exceed
six 01 seven inches in length. But these spring out of
the root in. tufts, so close upon one another, that they
resemble, in this respect, a close hair brush more than
any thing else I know : so that it would seem natural¬
ly adapted to form that short thick pile of grass in
which sheep are known chiefly to delight. Its flower-
stalks are numerous, and sometimes attain the height
of two feet; but are more usually about 12 or 15 inches
high.
. “ Upon gathering the seeds of this plant, and sow- Its appear
ing them as the former, it was found that they sprung ance when
up as quickly as any other kind of grass ; but the leaves cultivated.
are at first no bigger than a human hair. From each
side springs up one or two of these hair-like filaments,
that in a short time send out new offsets, so as quickly
to form a sort of tuft, which grows larger and larger,
till it at length attains a very large size, or till all the
intervals are closed up, and then it forms the closest pile
of grass that it is possible to imagine. In April and
May it pushed forth an innumerable quantity of flower-
stalks, that afforded an immense quantity of hay j it
being so close, throughout, that the scythe could scarce-
lyr penetrate it. This was allowed to stand till the
seeds ripened 5 but the bottoms of the stalks were quite
blanched, and almost rotted for want of air before that
time.
“ This was the appearance that it made the first year
11 x 2, after
3i6
A G
Food for
Cattle.
S3
What soil
Biest pro¬
per.
54
Hokes !a-
R I C
after it was sowed : but I have reason to think, that,
after a few years, it likewise produces fewer seed stalks,
'and a greater quantity of leaves, than at first. But
however that may be, it is certain, that if these are eaten
down in the spring, it does not, like rye-grass, persist
in a continued tendency to run to seed j but is at once
determined to push forth a quantity of leaves without
almost any stalks at all : and as all domestic animals,
but more especially sheep, are extremely fond of this
grass, if they have liberty to pasture where it grows,
they bite it so close as never to suffer almost a single seed-
stalk to escape them j so that the botanist will often
search in vain for it, when he is treading upon it with
his feet. The best way to discover it in any pasture,
is to search for it in winter, when the tufts of it may
be easily distinguished from every other kind of grass,
by their extraordinary closeness, and the deep green
colour of the leaves.
“ It seems to grow in almost any soil ; although it is
imagined that it would flourish best in a light sandy soil,
as it can evidently live with less moisture than almost any
other kind of grass j being often seen to remain in the
sods that have been employed in coping for stone dykes,
after all the other grasses that grew in them have disap¬
peared. It is likewise found in poor barren soils, where
hardly any other plant can be made to grow at all: and
on the surface of dry worn-out peat moss, where no mois¬
ture remains sufficient to support any other plant what¬
ever : but in neither of these situations does it thrive j as
it is there only a weak and unsightly plant, very unlike
what it is when it has the good fortune to be established
upon a good soil; although it it is seldomer met with in
this last state than in the former.
“ I will not here repeat what has been already said
about the particular property that this plant possesses of
continuing all winter j nor point out the benefits that
the farmer may reap from this valuable quality.—He
need not, however, expect to find any verdure in win¬
ter on such plants as grow upon the loose mossy soil
above mentioned j for, as the frost in winter always
hoves up the surface of this soil, the roots of the plants
are so lacerated thereby, as to make it, for some time
in the spring, to all appearance dead. Nor will he of¬
ten perceive much verdure in winter upon those plants
that grow upon poor hungry soils, which cannot afford
abundant nourishment to keep them in a proper state of
vegetation at all times : but such plants as grow on
earthen dykes, which usually begin to vegetate with
vigour when the autumnal rains come on, for the most
part retain their verdure at that season almost as well
as if they were in good garden-mould.
“ I have been very particular in regard to this plant;
because, in as far as my observations have yet gone, it
promises on many accounts to make a most valuable ac¬
quisition to the farmer, and therefore justly demands a
very particular share of his attention.”
3. The hblcus lanatus, or creeping soft-grass of Hud¬
son.— Th is is considered by our author as one of the
most valuable kinds of meadow-grasses ; its pile being
exceedingly close, soft, and succulent. It delights
much in moisture, and is seldom found on dry ground,
unless the soil is exceeding rich. It is often found on
those patches near springs, over which the water fre¬
quently flows; and may be known by the uncommon
softness and succulence of the blade, the lively light
U JL T U II E Tlieorj
green colour of the leaves, and the matted intertexture p00(] f 1
Cattle.!
55
of its roots. But, notwithstanding the softness of its first
leaves, when the seed-stalks advance, they are rough
to the touch, so that the plant then assumes a very dif¬
ferent appearance from what we would have expected.
The ear is branched out into a great number of fine ra¬
mifications somewhat like the oat, but much smaller.—
This kind of grass, however, would not be easily cultiva-
vated, on account of a kind of soft membrane that
makes the seeds adhere to the stalk, and to one another
after they are separated from it, as if they were inter¬
mixed with cobweb, so that it is difficult to get them
separated from the stalk, or to spread readily in sowing.
It spreads, however, so fast by its running roots, that
a small quantity sowed very thin, would be sufficient to
stock a large field in a short time.
These are the kinds of grasses, properly so called,
which have not as yet been cultivated, that Mr An¬
derson thinks the most likely to be of value; but, be¬
sides these, he recommends the following of the pea-tribe.
1. Milk-vetch, liquorice-vetch, or milkwort. This Milk-
plant, in some respects, very much resembles the com-vetch,
mon white clover : from the top of the root a great
number of shoots come out in the spring, spreading
along the surface of the ground every way around it;
from which arise a great many clusters of bright yel¬
low flowers, exactly resembling those of the common
broom. These are succeeded by hard round pods, fil¬
led with small kidney-shaped seeds. From a supposed
resemblance of a cluster of those pods to the fingers of
an open hand, the plant has been sometimes called
ladies-fingers. By others it is called crow-toes, from a
fancied resemblance of the pods to the toes of a bird.
Others, from the appearance of the blossom, and the
part where the plant is found, have called \t feal, im¬
properly fell-hroom. It is found plentifully almost
everywhere in old grass fields ; but as every species of
domestic animals eat it, almost in preference to any
other plant, it is seldom allowed to come to the flower
in pasture grounds, unless where they have been acci¬
dentally saved from the cattle for some time ; so that
it is only about the borders of corn fields, or the sides
of inclosures to which cattle have not access, that we
have an opportunity of observing it. As it has been
imagined that the cows which feed on the pastures,
where this plant abounds, yield a quantity of rich milk,
the plant has, from that circumstance, obtained its most
proper English name of milk-vetch. ^
One of the greatest recommendations of this plant Its good
is, that it grows in poor barren ground, where almost
no other plant can live. It has been observed in
ground so poor, that even heath, or ling {erica commu¬
nis'), would scarcely grow ; and upon bare obdurate
clays, where no other plant could be made to vege¬
tate ; insomuch that the surface remained entirely un¬
covered, unless where a plant of this kind chanced to
be established : yet, even in these unfavourable cir¬
cumstances, it flourished with an uncommon degree of
luxuriance, and yielded as tender and succulent, though
not such abundant shoots, as if reared in the richest
manured fields. In dry barren sands, also, where al¬
most no other plant could be made to live, it has been
found to send out such a number of healthy shoots all
round, as to cover the earth with the closest and most
beautiful carpet that can be desired,,
The
iieory.
jod for
agriculture.
The Stalks of the nulk-vetch are weak ami slender, it abounds much more in see l
so that they spread upon the surface of the ground, un
,317
mg'.
*- L    5* wuim
Jess they are supported by some other vegetable. In
ordinary soils they do not grow to a great length, nor
produce many flowers 5 but in richer fields the stalks
grow to a much greater length, branch out a good
deal, but carry few or no flowers or seeds. From these
qualities our author did not attempt at first to cultivate
it with any other view than that of pasture 5 and, with
this intention, sowed it with his ordinary hay seeds
expecting no material benefit from it till he desisted
from cutting his field. In this, however, he was
agreeably disappointed ; the milk-vetch growing the
first season as tall as his great clover, and forming ex¬
ceeding fine hay $ being scarce distinguishable from lu¬
cerne but by the slenderness of the stalk, and propor¬
tional smallness of the leaf.
Another recommendation to this plant is, that it is
perennial. It is several years after it is sowed before
it attains to its full perfection 5 but when once esta¬
blished, it probably remains for a great number of years
in full vigour, and produces annually a great quantity
of fodder. In autumn 1773, Mr Anderson cut the
stalk from an old plant that grew on a very indifferent
soil; and, after having thoroughly dried it, he found
that it weighed 14 ounces and a half.
The stalks of this plant die down entirely in Avinter,
and do not come up in the spring till the same time
that clover begins to advance 5 nor does it advance
Food for
Cattle.
veiy fast, even in summer, when once cut down or eaten
over : so that it seems much inferior to the above-men¬
tioned grasses ; but it might be of use to cover the worst
parts of a farm, on which no other vegetable could
thrive.
. r^ie common yellow vetchling (JLathyrus praten-
Sis,) or everlasting tare, grows with great luxuriance
in stiff clay soils, and continues to yield annually a
great weight of fodder, of the very best quality for
any length of time. This is equally fit for pasture or
nay 5 and grows with equal vigour in the end of sum¬
mer as in the beginning of it 5 so would admit being
pastured upon m the spring, till the middle, or even
the end of May, without endangering the loss of the
crop of hay. This is an advantage which no other
plant except clover possesses ; but clover is equally un¬
lit for early pasture or for hay. Sainfoin is the only
plant whose qualities approach to it in this respect, and
the yellow yetchling will grow in such soils as are ut¬
terly unfit for producing sainfoin.—It is also a peren¬
nial plant, and increases so fast by its running roots
that a small quantity of the seed would produce a suffi¬
cient number of plants to fill a whole field in a very
short time. If a small patch of good ground is sowed
with the seeds of this plant in rows, about a foot dis¬
tance from one another, and the intervals kept clear of
weeds for that season, the roots will spread so much as
to fill up the whole patch next year 5 when the stalks
may be cut for green fodder or hay. And if that
patch were dug over in the spring following, and the
roots taken out j it would furnish a great quantity of
plants, which might he planted at two or 'three feet
distance from one another, where they would probably
overspread the whole field in a short time.
3- Ihe common blue tare seems more likely than the
former to produce a more flourishing kind of hay, as
  , but as the stalks come
up more thinly from the root, and branch more above,
it does not appear to be so well adapted for a pasture  v~~
grass as the other. The leaves of this plant are much
smaller, and more divided, than those of the other:
the stalks are likewise smaller, and grow to a much
greater length Though it produces a great quantity
f seeds, yet the small birds are so fond of them, that,
wnnM lt iei!fie diWere- careful!y guarded, few of them
would be allowed to ripen.
4. The vicia sepium,purple everlasting, or bush-vetch. Bllsil59
Our author gives the preference to this plant beyond vetch,
all others of the same tribe for pasture. The roots of
it spread on every side a little below the surface of the
ground from which, in the spring, many stems arise
quite close by one another j and as they have a broad
tutted top covered with many leaves, it forms as close
a pile as could be desired. It grows very quickly after
eing cut or cropt, but does not arrive at any great
eight; so that it seems more proper for pasturage than
making hay; although, upon a good, soil, it will grow
sufficiently high for that purpose ; but the stalks grow
so close upon one another, that there is great danger of
having it rotted at the root, if the season should prove
damp. It seems to thrive best in a clayey soil.
Besides these, there are a variety of others of the same f
class, which he thinks might be useful to the farmer. nelT ”5
n he common garden everlasting pea, cultivated as a*
flowering plant, he conjectures, would yield a prodigi-
OHS weight of hav iiTirm on   . R
ous weight of hay upon an acre ; as it grows to the
height of ten or twelve feet, having very strong stalks,
that could support themselves without rotting till they
attained a great height. 7
One other plant, hitherto unnoticed, is recommend-AchiflL
ed by our author to the attention of the farmer; it is niillefo-
the common yarrow {Achillea millefolium), or hundred-liuln*
leaved grass. Concerning this plant, he remarks, that
in almost every fine old pasture,, a great proportion of
the growing vegetables with which the field is covered
consists of it; but the animals which feed there are so
fond of the yarrow, as never to allow one seed-stalk of
it to come to perfection. Hence these seed-stalks are
never found but in neglected corners, or by the sides of '
roads ; and are so disagreeable to cattle, that they are
never tasted ; and thus it has been erroneously thought
that the whole plant was refused by them.—The leaves
of this plant have a great tendency to grow very thick
upon one another, and are therefore peculiarly adapted
for pasturage. It arrives at its greatest perfection in
rich fields that are naturally fit for producing a large
and succulent crop of grass. It grows also upon clays j
and is among the first plants that strike root in any
barren clay that has been lately dug from any consi¬
derable depth; so that this plant, and thistles, are usual¬
ly the first that appear on the banks of deep ditches
formed in a clayey soil. All animals delight to eat it;
but, from the dry aromatic taste it possesses, it would
seem peculiarly favourable to the constitution of sheep.
It seems altogether unfit for hay.
Besides these plants, which are natives of our own r
country, there are others which, though natives of a fo- ',uccriie"
reign climate, are found to thrive very well in Britain ;
and have been raised with such success by individuals,
as highly to merit the attention of every farmer. A-
mong these the first place is claimed by lucerne.
This
Ji8
AGRICULTUKE.
Then
Food for
Cattle.
63
Timothy
grass.
64
Grazing
compared
with the
plough.
Bath Pa¬
pers, ro\ iii,
This Is the plant called medico, by the ancients, be¬
cause It came originally from Media, and on the culture
of which they bestowed such great care and pains. It
hath a perennial root, and annual stalks, which, in
a good soil, rise to three feet, or sometimes more, in
height j its leaves grow at a joint like those of clover 3
the flowers, which appear in June, are purple ; and its
pods are of a screw-like shape, containing seeds winch
ripen in September. All sorts of domestic cattle are
fond of this plant, especially when allowed to eat it
green, and black cattle may be fed very well with the
hay made from it 3 but an excess of this food is said to
be very dangerous.
Lucerne has the property of growing very quickly af¬
ter it is cut down, insomuch that Mr Rocque has mow¬
ed it five times in a season, and Mr Anderson affirms he
has cut it no less than six times. It is, however, not
very easily cultivated 5 inconsequence of which it some¬
times does not succeed.
Another grass was brought from Virginia, where it
is a native, and sown by Rocque in 1763* This grass
is called timothy, from its being brought from New-
York to Carolina by one Timothy Hanson. It grows
best in a wet soil j but will thrive in aimost any. It
it is sown in August, it will be fit for cutting in the lat¬
ter end of May or beginning of June. Horses are very
fond of it, and will leave lucerne to eat it. It is also
preferred by black cattle and sheep 3 for a square piece
of land having been divided into four equal parts, and
one part sowed with lucerne, another with saintoin, a
third with clover, and the fourth With timothy, some
horses, black cattle, and sheep, were turned into it, when
the plants were all in a condition for pasturage ; and
the timothy was eaten quite bare, before the clover, lu¬
cerne, or sainfoin, was touched.
One valuable property of this grass is, that its roots
are so strong and interwoven with one another, that they
render the wettest and softest land, on which a horse
could not find footing, firm enough to bear the heaviest
cart. With the view of improving boggy lands, there¬
fore, so as to prevent their being poached with the feet
of cattle, Mr Anderson recommends the cultivation of
this kind of grass, from which he lias little expectation
in other respects.
On this subject, of the kind of plants most proper to
be raised for feeding cattle, one general question ought
not to pass unnoticed concerning the propriety of feed¬
ing them upon roots and plants cultivated by the aid of
the plough, or upon leaving them to derive their sub¬
sistence from lands allowed to remain continually in pa¬
sturage. The advantages of the latter practice are set
forth by Thomas Davis, Esq. of Longleet, in the fol¬
lowing words. “ Experience sufficiently evinces the ex¬
treme difficulty of persuading tenants that they get more
(generally speaking) by feeding their lands, than by
pfoughing them ; yet it requires very few arguments
to convince a landlord, that, in cold wet land especial¬
ly, the less ploughed land you have, the less you put it
in the tenant’s power to ruin your estate.. That a te¬
nant of 60I. per annum on a dairy farm will get money,
while a corn farm of the same size will starve its occu¬
pier (though perhaps the former gives 15s. per acre
for his land, and the latter only 10s.), is self-evident.
The plough is a friend of every body’s, though its ad¬
vantages are very far from being particularly and local¬
ly felt j corn being an article that will bear keeping fC0J
till the whim or caprice, or supposed advantage of its ( attl
possessor, call it forth. But the produce of the cow is
far otherwise. Cheese must necessarily be sold at a cer¬
tain period: it is a ponderous article ; and one-twelfth,
or at least one-fifteenth of its value, is often paid for
carrying it to a fair 50 miles off; and the butter and
skimmed milk find their way no great distance from
home, as is evident by the price of butter varying fre¬
quently one-third in 20 or 30 miles. Every inhabitant
of Bath must be sensible, that butter and cheese have
risen one-third or more in price within 20 years. Is
not this owing to the great encouragement given to
the plough and to grazing, at a time when, on account
of the increased demand for milk, cream, butter, and
cheese, every exertion on behalf of the dairy should
have been encouraged ?” &c. '
In some remarks on this letter hy Mr Billingsley,
the same superiority of dairy farms to the arable kind
is asserted in the most positive terms. “ Perhaps (says
he) there cannot be a stronger proof of the inferiority
of the plough with respect to profit, than the superior
punctuality of the dairy farmer in the payment of his
rent. This observation, I believe, most stewards who
superintend manors devoted partly to corn and partly
to dairy farms, will verify ; at least I have never met
with one who controverts it, But perhaps the advo¬
cate for the plough will desire me not to confound the
abuse of a thing with its intrinsic excellence $ and
say, that the generality of corn farmers are most egre¬
gious slovens 3 that lands devoted to the plough are
not confined to such a mediocrity of profit as 20s. per
that the produce of artificial grasses (without
which a well managed arable farm cannot exist), far
exceeds that of natural grass both in respect of quan¬
tity and nutrition : that the straw yard is a most con¬
venient receptacle for the cow when freed from the
pail. These, and many other reasons, may be addu¬
ced to show the propriety of walking in the middle
path, and of judiciously blending arable with pasture,
in the proportion perhaps of three of the latter to one of
the former.”
Sect. III. Of the comparative Proft to be derived
from the Cultivation of different Vegetables.
Like every other artist or tradesman, a husbandman
will always be under the necessity of regarding himself stance!
as the servant of the community, and must endeavour render
to rear the vegetables that are in greatest demand, andS^J
that will enable him to derive the greatest profit from the^ H9J
portion of territory which he occupies. The product
of some soils and situations is so fixed by nature, that
it is in vain for human art or industry to alter her desti¬
nation. In our own and in many other countries,
there are extensive tracts of lofty and rugged moun¬
tains, from which the art of agriculture seems to he
for ever banished. Such situations belong exclusively
to the shepherd and his flock, to the utter exclusion 01
the plough. Even on some arable lands it may be found
fruitless to attempt to rear many of the more valuable
vegetable productions. In many bleak and unshelter¬
ed fields of the higher country of Scotland, in which
turnips and oats are cultivated with tolerable success,
it would be in vain to expect regular crops of wheat;
and
|eory.
L from ant^ thm&h potatoes are found to prosper in a sandy,
I:rent or even a mossy soil, it would be in vain to expect
| tables, them to produce an equally valuable crop upon a stiff
v clay, in which the roots cannot swell or expand to a
proper size. In forming a plan of agriculture, there-
iore, the husbandman must not overlook the peculiar
natuie of the soil that has fallen to his lot, or its physi¬
cal relation to the nature of certain vegetables, as he
can only hope for success by adapting the one of these
to the other.
The husbandman must also have a special regard
to the state of the market to winch his commodities are
to be brought. It is in vain for him to cultivate large
quantities of roots, such as potatoes or carrots, at a di¬
stance from great towns, which alone can afford a
market for them, unless he intend to consume them
upon his own farm by feeding cattle. In a part of the
country, however, in which great breweries are esta¬
blished, if his soil is fit for the purpose, he may safely
venture to reai’ large quantities of barley j as he can¬
not in such a situation be at any time destitute of a
market. Hence we can perceive, that it is the state
of the market which must at all times regulate the en¬
terprises of the agriculturist, and the kind of crops
which he is to bring forward. Thus also we see the
mode in which agriculture may be most successfully
encouraged by a nation. Let an abundant market be
Pr-n • r the Produce of t,ie soil, and that produce
will infallibly be augmented. In this way, it is evi¬
dent that the consumption of grain, by means of distil¬
leries or breweries, is highly favourable to the pro¬
duction of it in great quantities. They are even
favourable to the existence of plenty, or of abund¬
ance of bread for the use of the people. In good
seasons, by affording a ready market, they give acti¬
vity to the husbandman, and in bad seasons their ope¬
rations can be arrested by law, and the superfluous
quantity of gram which was meant to be consumed by
them, can be converted into human food. Thus they
operate in some measure like a great public granary, in
which provisions should be kept against an accidental
scarcity.
It may sometimes happen, that by the character
of the age m which he lives, and the state of the
market which it produces, a husbandman may find
himself most profitably employed, when rearing a kind
of food which is by no means the most advantageous
to the population of his country. This takes place,
when he is employed in preparing butchers meat in¬
stead of bread ; that is, when he finds it more profit¬
able to rear upon his lands vegetables which can only
be consumed by cattle, and thus contribute only in an
indirect manner to the sustenance of the human spe¬
cies, than to cultivate those vegetable productions
which are suited to the human stomach, and which
therefore directly and immediately afford subsistence to
man. According to Archdeacon Hislop’s Comparative
ng* statement, lately published, the weight of food from
n‘ an acre of arable land, on the average of three years,
a lallow year being included, is nine and a half times
greater than from an acre of feeding stock ; and ac¬
cording to the calculations of the Rev. Dr Walker, at
Colhngton, professor of natural history at Edinburgh
a Scots acre of land in pasture, fed with sheep, pro¬
duces only 120 pounds weight of meat, whereas the
2
AGRICULTURE.
3*9
same land will yield 1280 pounds of oatmeal, or above profit irom
ten times as much. Let it even be supposed, then, different
hat one pound of mutton contains in itself as much
substantial nourishment for the human constitution, as * y——-*1
two pounds weight of oatmeal j still it will follow
that lands cultivated for the production of oats, will
support a population five times greater in number,
than can be supported by the same land when used
for the pasture of sheep j and, where one million of
people are found to exist upon a territory occupied
in the one way, between five and six millions of people
might exist upon the same land if it were cultivated
for raising grain, and if the inhabitants would consent
to use it as their food. Were any contrivance adopted,
of the nature of those already mentioned, for convert¬
ing the succulent roots of potatoes, carrots, &c. into
diy meal or flour 5 the same proportional difference of
population would continue to exist, between nations
in which that kind of flour should be consumed as hu¬
man food, and in which it should be used for feeding
cattle : For a man always commits an enormous waste
of food ; who, instead of eating grain himself, gives it
to an inferior animal, in the expectation of afterwards
receiving an equivalent, by devouring the flesh of that
animal.
With these general considerations, however, the
practical agriculturist, or husbandman, may have no¬
thing to do. To succeed in his profession, he must
accommodate himself to the public taste, or to the
state of the market around him ^ and must consider
what commodity, whether grain or butchers meat,
will there bring the best reward for his labour. He 67
may even find the state of the market affected by other Cirenni-
circumstances, than the mere taste of the public for stances,
butchers meat, in preference to vegetable food 5 al- |hat lead
though that must always be of great importance among
a luxurious people. Conquering nations, w ho extend fer pastur-
their political dominion over distant regions, never fail age to the
to draw to their native country a very great portion rea“Bg °t
ofthevvealth of the vanquished states. The victor!-srail'*
ous nation never fails, in such cases, to contain a great
number of wealthy individuals, whose revenue is not
derived from the cultivation of their native soil, or
from any branch of manufacture or of commercial in¬
dustry carried on by them upon it j but which consists
of money drawn from the remote provinces of the em¬
pire,^ in consequence of estates possessed, or fortunes
acquired there, in the service of government. The
result of such circumstances naturally is, that these
wealthy individuals not only live at home in a luxurious
manner, and increase to an immense extent the con¬
sumption of butchers meat by themselves and their nu¬
merous retinues j but for the sake of ostentation, and
as the only means of employing their wealth, they
maintain great numbers of carriages and of riding
horses, lo support such establishments, they them¬
selves not only convert large tracts of territory from
arable into pasture lands ; but even the whole hus¬
bandmen of the country are induced to do the same,
te derive a profit from supplying them with butchers
meat, and with food for their pleasure horses. In the
mean time, the grain that may be w’anted for the con¬
sumption of the people, whether rich or poor, being a
commodity which is easily preserved and transported,,
must be bought from foreign nations, by a portion of the-
superflsous^
320
A G R I
Profit fromsuperfluous wealth of the state *, and thus a rich and pro-
different sperous people may come to depend upon foreigners for
’Vegetables.a niorsel 0f bread ; and when these foreign nations hap-
pen to experience an unfortunate season, this wealthy
people may suffer all the horrors of famine upon a fer¬
tile soil, and in the midst of overflowing treasures.
Such was the state of Italy under the ancient Ro¬
mans. Every part of it was adorned with the parks
and villas and gardens of the nobles, who derived their
revenues from the remote parts of the empire. This
seat of dominion exhibited a picture of boundless splen¬
dour and magnificence. But the soil was entirely
occupied in the service of ostentation or of luxury :
and Italy, one of the most fertile corn countries in Eu¬
rope, depended for grain upon Egypt, and the western
provinces of Africa that border upon the Mediterra¬
nean. Such also, though perhaps in an inferior degree,
seems to be the present state of Great Britain. It has
acquired vast and fertile and populous provinces, with¬
in the torrid zone in the east, from which individuals
are annually transporting home immense treasures ob¬
tained in the public service. In the west, also, within
the same torrid zone, by a great expense of treasure
and of human lives, the cultivation of certain valuable
commodities has been established j and from estates si¬
tuated there, individuals residing at home now derive
great revenues. The principles which regulate human
affairs are unalterable $ and in every age the same causes
are attended with the same consequences. What oc¬
curred in ancient Italy, took place among us soon as the
possession of distant territories had leisure to display its
natural effects. Britain formerly not only produced a-
hundance of grain for the support of its own inhabitants,
but it possessed a considerable surplus for exportation.
After the acquisition of foreign possessions, this surplus
produce gradually ceased to exist 5 and it appears from
documents, which the legislature has acknowledged to
afford authentic and complete evidence of the truth of
the fact, that, for twenty years past, notwithstanding all
our agricultural improvements, and the waste lands that
have been brought under the plough, the produce of grain
is annually becoming more and more unequal to the
consumption j and this decrease appears in some measure
to keep pace with the increasing value of our distant
possessions. In the mean time we are annually coming
under the necessity of purchasing larger and larger
supplies of grain, from the foreign states of Europe or
of North America ; and thus these nations, without un¬
dergoing the imputation of usurpation, and without en¬
countering the hazard of an unfriendly climate, have
been enabled, through the medium of our luxury, to ob¬
tain a share of the riches of Hindostan, and of the pro¬
fits of our West India cultivation. In the mean time
their agriculture is encouraged, while we are made to
depend upon them for the necessaries of life. After all,
it appears unreasonable, and would perhaps be improper,
to regret a state of affairs, which is the result of na¬
tional aggrandisement, and of the superiority and suc¬
cessful enterprise of our countrymen. Still, however,
it is obviously to be wished, that, so far as agriculture
is concerned, we could be restored to the state of inde¬
pendence which our ancestors enjoyed, when they were
able, from their own soil, to supply themselves with the
necessaries of life : such a state is sometimes necessary
to the independent existence of a community, and is at
all times conducive to its welfare. It can only how-
3
CULTURE.
ever be produced by means of agriculture,
fore,
Ye generous Britons, venerate the Ploug/i,
And o’er your hills and long withdrawing vales,
Let autumn spread her treasures to the sun j
So with superior boon may your rich soil,
Exuberant, natui'e’s better blessings pour
O’er every land, the naked nations clothe,
And be th’ exhaustless granary of a world !
Thomson.
Tlieon
There-
Sect. IV. .General Principles of Cultivation.
It is not our intention here to enter into a minute
disquisition, concerning the nature of vegetables, or the
different substances with which they may be connected,
in their growth or in their decay. Such investigations,
in a proper arrangement of the sciences, ought to be left
to chemistry } but even that science, so far as vegetable
substances are concerned, is still in such a state of im¬
perfection, that a detail of the experiments and opinions
of philosophical chemists, concerning vegetables, would
as yet afford but a very trifling portion of useful infor¬
mation to the husbandman. We shall therefore content
ourselves with here stating such general remarks, as ap¬
pear necessarily connected with the important art of
which we are now treating. ^
A vegetable is not to be regarded merely as a piece j,jature 5r
of matter, or as a mixture of certain material substances, ihe growtil
It is an organized being, possessed of life, which it de- of regc-
rived from another similar organized being that existed^68,
previous to itself j and this former organized and living
being derived its constitution from a parent stem, which
grew out of a still older plant, up to an antiquity of
which we have no knowledge. A vegetable, in this
manner, not only has a birth, but it also has a growth,
which is supported by food that it takes in and conveys
by peculiar organs to the particular parts for which it is
destined. When it has arrived at maturity, or reached
the perfection of its form and constitution, a vegetable
like an animal begins to decay, and finally dies, and,
by a process of putrefaction, is converted into a kind
of earth.
To the life of vegetables, in the same manner as to
the life of animals, the presence of atmospheric air is
necessary. They also require a certain moderate de¬
gree of heat j without which their growth cannot pro¬
ceed, although a great degree of it is utterly fatal even
to their texture. That they require moisture, is equal¬
ly obvious ; as appears from the ordinary effect of rain,
or of the continued want of it, upon fields and plants.
They require likewise to be inserted in the earth, or
in some way connected with a collection of its parti¬
cles ; for although some plants, particularly the bul¬
bous-rooted kinds, vegetate in pure water and air alone,
it appears that they acquire little addition of solid sub¬
stance, and that neither they, nor any of the other
larger plants, reach perfection, or produce seed, un¬
less planted in the earth, or supplied with a portion
of it.
As all soils are by no means equally adapted for sup-Four kinds
porting vegetables, or bringing them to maturity, it of soil-
is necessary for the husbandman to attend to their na¬
ture, and the modes in which they may be altered or
ameliorated for his use. Independent of these hard
concretions, which obtain the name of stones or rocks,
it
21
‘heory. AGRICULTURE.
’rinciples it is to be observej, that tile looser and more divisible To understand this subject correctly, it is accessary p — ,
earth winch covers most part of the surface of the globe, to consider the nature and origin of this fertite mould
1 and receives the appellatmu of trie *7. may, upon the It is evidently not one of those original suhSnl which C»liiv.,iou
form a part of the great mass of the solid globe of the ' 
of
1111 Ya ; and receives the appellation of t/ie soil, may, upon the
whole, and with sufficient accuracy for practical pur¬
poses, be divided into four kinds, which are in general
mixed, with each other, but which receive their name,
in ordinary language, from the kind that predominates
or is most abundant. These are sand, clay, chalk, and
garden mould. Of these, sand and clay are in some
measure the opposites of each other, while chalk forms
a kind of medium between them. Sand allows water
earth, but appears to be the result of the operations Xatuie of
and ot the destruction of living and organized beings garden
Ve ?X1S^ uPon it- “ Were a naked rock, says mould.
Mr Headrick, in an essay which we will afterwards
have occasion to mention, suddenly thrown up ftomST'^
the sea or from the bowels of the earth, the first plants!/-
to filter rapidly through it, and'speedily" hec"omeS"d,‘y, £ ^“'sthtist wholW
'em^ te"r°"s ?? m?|stare ; but a upon what they imbibe from the alr! with™t „«dinJ ^
a soil in which to push their roots. These plants servl,vhiS“ a1'
the double purpose of clothing the rock, and thus pre-tore ferti-
venting the hue particles that are dissolved by air andlizes
mixture of chalk renders sand considerably more tena¬
cious of water, while it renders clay more loose, and ea¬
sily penetrated. None of these soils are valuable for the
purposes of agriculture—Sand does not sufficiently re¬
tain watei for the use of vegetables j nor does clay suf¬
fer their roots to expand with freedom in quest of nou¬
rishment. Chalk, or, as it is usually called, a calcare¬
ous soil, is not of itself adapted for raising useful plants 5
for, although it may not have the mechanical defects
of sand and clay, yet it is found by experience to be
moisture from being washed away, and, from theirearth*
growth and dissolution, of accumulating vegetable
soil for the sustenance of more succulent plants. The
rock is thus gradually made to acquire such a depth
of soil, that it becomes able to sustain not only grasses
and shrubs, but may become a receptacle for the oak
itself.” The progress here stated is correct} but some
of little value to them, either i„ eminence of its ten- c^ms^ces S be Xd m ittZZ
dency to destroy their texture by its corrosive nualitv. mllv naoEul  j  ’t. • , . ‘
dency to destroy their texture by its corrosive quality,
that is, by having too much chemical affinity with the
materials of which they consist, or from its not con¬
taining within itself the proper materials necessary to
them as food.
I he fourth kind of soil we have denominated garden
mould} because it is in its highest perfection when it
approaches nearest to the rich black earth which re¬
ceives that appellation. This is the most proper of all
kinds of soil for rearing the whole of those vegetables
which are accounted valuable in our climate. In pro¬
per circumstances, that is, with a moderate degree of
heat and of moisture, it never fails to send forth and to
bring to perfection an abundant crop. In proportion to
the degree in which any soil consists of this black
mould, its value increases. If, therefore, a husband¬
man could cover the portion of territory allotted to him
with a tolerable depth of this kind of soil, nothing more
would be necessary to the success of his enterprises, as
he could rear whatever vegetables he thought fit, in
perfection, and in great profusion. It is to be obser¬
ved, however, that this kind of mould or soil cannot
be relied- upon as permanent. If crops of grain should
be taken from it year after year, it would soon lose its
fertile qualities, and become unfit for the purposes of a
prosperous agriculture. Here then is the remarkable
difference between this kind of soil and the three others
that were formerly mentioned, sand, clay, and chalk.
Whatever properties these possess are unperishing, and
can only be altered or modified by the operation of a
fierce heat. Unfortunately, however, in their pure
state, as already mentioned, they are of little value to
the husbandman} and it is only in proportion to the de¬
gree in which they are mixed with the dark coloured
or garden mould, that they become adapted to his pur¬
poses: but as the qualities of this mould are of a tran¬
sitory nature, it is of the utmost importance, and ought
indeed to form the great basis of every theory of agri¬
culture, to explain how they may be preserved in exist¬
ence, or restored when lost.
Vol. I. Part I. |
cally useful to the husbandman. It is to be observed
then, that animal substances, after they have ceased
to form a part of a living body, have a tendency to
proceed rapidly into a state of putrefactive fermenta¬
tion, by which the greatest part of their mass is render¬
ed volatile. When animal substances are mingled with
vegetables, they speedily communicate their own fer¬
mentation or putrefaction to the vegetables, which by
means of it are decomposed, fall to pieces, and are
transformed into that kind of black earth, which we
have called garden mould, and which forms the most
fertile of all soils for the production of vegetables.
It is by this process then, that is, by the fermentation
of vegetable by means of. animal substances, that the
surface of this globe has been fertilized, or a black and
rich mould produced upon it, as we daily see taking
place in a variety of situations. No sooner do the
small lichens or mosses cover the face of the naked
rock, or gravel, or clay, than a variety of species of
small animals appear, and feed upon them. As the
plants and animals die in succession, their substances
mingle and give rise to the putrefaction already men¬
tioned, which is productive of a small portion of soil.
A new race, of plants of greater strength and bulk rises
upon the ruins of the first, and supports larger animals,
all destined in their turn to perish and to increase the
quantity of fertile soil. Mbre valuable grasses soon
supplant the original small and coarse vegetables, and
the spot assumes the appearance of a rich verdure.
New species of animals also begin to inhabit it: snails
and worms abound } and by their remains contribute
to the dissolution of the roots of plants, which every-
where penetrate the new soil, and to the decomposition
of the stems which periodically fall down. When the
soil has acquired sufficient depth, it is sheltered by
shrubs } and, lastly, by forest trees, under the shade of
which the larger animals exist. The trees shed their
leaves every season, and every season consequently gives
an additional layer or stratum of fertile mould to the
soil: and thus while tie forest endures, the fertility of
S s the
.22 A G R I C U
J) m
Principles the territory on which it stands continues to be aug-
of mented by its spoils, and by the bodies of the animals
Cultivation, repair to it for shelter.
This process, by which nature gives fertility to the
earth, or creates the rich mould on which vegetables
flourish, ought to be imitated by the husbandman 5 and,
in fact, it has been imitated in consequence of a know¬
ledge that is derived from experience and from prac¬
tice, rather than from the general speetdations of sci¬
ence. The imitation of nature upon this point con¬
stitutes the art of producing manures, which will be
afterwards considered. The principle upon which it
proceeds, rests upon this foundation, which is known to
be true in fact, that the fermentation of animal and ve¬
getable substances produces that kind of dark rich
mould which forms the most fertile soil.
In what way, or by what peculiar operation, this
kind of mould or soil becomes so highly conducive and
subservient to the growth of plants, is a point of more
difficult research, and is fortunately of less importance
to be known to the practical agriculturist. It may be
observed, however, that this mould possesses, in an emi¬
nent degree, all the requisites necssary to the success of
vegetation. It retains moisture, which is so necessary
to that process, without at the same time, keeping hold
of it with that retentiveness which, in clay, has the ef¬
fect of injuring the roots of the plants. As this mould
consists of the remains both ol animal and vegetable
life, it necessarily contains an immense variety of in¬
gredients which have difterent degrees of chemical af-
flnity to each other. By the operation of these affini¬
ties in bringing the different substances into new com¬
binations, a great quantity of heat must he continually
produced or evolved, as occurs in so many chemical
processes. By this heat the roots of the plants will be
nourished, especially when assisted by the heat which
they themselves throw out or produce when germi¬
nating. Thus by the kind of soil now mentioned, or
by the aid of manure, the defects of a cold and un-
genial climate may, in some measure, be rectiHed, and
■yt the seeds and roots of vegetables may be supplied with
Conjecture due and seasonable warmth. It is also probable, that
about ex- wjmt is called the exhausted state of a soil, in conse¬
quence of much ploughing, and many crops having been
taken from it, may chiefly arise from this circumstance,
that all the chemical affinities have at last operated,
every particle ol the soil remains at rest, and no more
heat is produced by the activity of its parts.
That plants growing in fertile mould, like that now
mentioned, derive nourishment or food from it, cannot
be doubted, since we see, that when taken out of it, or
placed in another hut less favourable soil, they speedi¬
ly go into decay. What the particular substances are,
however, which they take from it, has not been disco¬
vered. But it appears from the minuteness of the ex¬
treme* fibres of the roots of plants, that the food taken
in by them must be soluble in water, or in a liquid
state when taken in by them. Accordingly, their food
Is actually found to ascend through their organs in a
liquid form. Of this liquor or sap there are two
kinds, the ascending and the descending. I he ascending
eap is that which rises in the spring ; and by cutting a
short way through the bark into the wood of many
trees, large quantities of it may be drawn off, without
injury to their health or growth. This sap ascends to
hausted
mis.
L T U R E. Theory
the leaves, and there undergoes some change by the principle
action of the air : for the leaves of vegetables appear of
to perforin to them an office similar to that which (jukmiioS
is accomplished in animals by the organ called the'
lungs. From the leaves the sap, thus changed, descends
to every part of the plant, and contributes to its
growth by becoming a part of its substance. It would
seem, however, that the liquors which circulate in
plants, not only undergo a change at the leaves, but
also at their first entrance by the vessels of the roots ;
for if several different kinds of trees are ingrafted upon
the same common stock, each of them is able to de¬
rive the sap peculiar to itself from the sap of the com¬
mon stock. Thus also the chemists have informed us,
that vinegar, called by them the acetous acid, is found
variously combined in the ascending sap of various
trees j but it has never yet been discovered, that vine¬
gar exists in any perceptible quantity in vegetable
mould. That substance, therefore, must be formed by
the root, by bringing together the ingredients of that
acid which it finds and selects in the earth.
When any plant, whether great or small, is put in¬
to a close vessel, and strongly heated, allowing only
the smoke to escape, the residue is in all cases of the
same nature, and is called charcoal, or by the chemists
carbon. Of this carbonaceous matter a considerable
quantity is always found in rich garden mould, derived
no doubt from the remains of vegetable substances of
which that mould was originally formed. This car¬
bonaceous matter, however, or charcoal, being inso¬
luble in water, cannot in its ordinary state enter into
the vessels of growing vegetables j but, as it is render¬
ed soluble by a variety of combinations, it is no doubt
found out in such a state by the fibres of growing roots,
and conveyed upwards in the juice. But as all vege¬
table mould, and the charcoal or carbonaceous mat¬
ter which it contains, is the result of the ruins of vege¬
tation, and as the lichens or vegetables of the coarsest
and simplest kind, which originally grow upon the na¬
ked stone, have no other nourishment than water and
atmospheric air, it is probable, that out of these mate¬
rials they are capable of forming the charcoal, which
constitutes the basis of their form, and of the constitu¬
tion of every other vegetable. It is true, that the che¬
mists still regard carbon or charcoal as a simple and
uncompounded substance j and they have not found it
in, water, nor in atmospheric air, unless in the most mi¬
nute degree, resulting probably from the combustion of
fires and the breathing of animals in inhabited coun¬
tries. But although chemists have not hitherto been
able to find charcoal in the three simple substances,
oxygen, hydrogen, and azote, of which atmospheric
air and water are composed, it seems evident, that the
mighty Chemist who contrived this world and the con¬
stitution of vegetables, finds no difficulty in forming it
of those materials by means of their organization.
Hence we rather think, that water and air must con¬
stitute the original food of the simplest and coarsest,
kind of plants ; but if this idea be true, it is to be re¬
garded as a fact that is more curious in speculation
than useful in practice : for it is certain, that the more
valuable and larger vegetables, which it is the busi¬
ness of the husbandman to cultivate, cannot be reared
to perfection without the aid of vegetable mould.
Though they may possess, therefore, the power of de¬
riving
.ack
cr
theory. .. A G R I C U
■mciples riving a portion of their solid substance, or of the car-
of bonaceous matter which they contain, from common
Itivation. ajr aHj water, they cannot obtain the whole by this
means, and require the aid of the remains of former
vegetation. It is thus that one system is seen to per-
vade evei’y part of nature, as through all her works
getables one class of animated beings only enjoys life in conse-
thc food quence 0f the destruction of another. Thus the car¬
nivorous animals consume those that live upon vege¬
tables j and thus, in like manner, one species of vege¬
tables only subsists upon the ruins, and is fed by the
substance, of a former generation of plants.
Besides animal substances, there are some minerals
that have a tendency to accomplish the decomposition
of vegetables, and thereby to reduce them into the state
of mould, possessing in a great degree the qualities of
the garden mould that is produced by the fermenta¬
tion of the remains of animals and vegetables, the for¬
mation of which has now been described. Of the mi¬
nerals that have this tendency, lime is the chief, and
indeed the one commonly in use, either pure or when
combined with clay under the form of marl. To the
effect of lime, therefore, we shall now' call the attention
of the reader.
Where the ground has been suffered to remain un¬
cultivated for many ages, producing all that time suc¬
culent plants which are easily putrefied, and trees, the
leaves of which likewise contribute to enrich the ground
by their falling oft and mixing with it, the soil will in
'A manner be totally made up of pure vegetable earth,
and be the richest, when cultivated, that can be ima¬
gined. Ihis was the case wntli the lands of America.
They had remained uncultivated perhaps since the crea¬
tion, and were endowed with an extraordinary degree
of fertility; nevertheless w;e are assured by one who
went to America in order to purchase lands there, that
such grounds as had been long cultivated, were so much
74 . exhausted, as to be much worse than the generality of
ipecies cultivated grounds in this country. Here, then, we
^eSd°' have an example of one species of poor soil; namely,
3e one that has been formerly very rich, but lias been de¬
prived by repeated^ cropping, of the greatest part of
the vegetable food it contained. The farmer who is
in possession of such ground, would no doubt willingly
L T U R E.
23
fice, and made the soil yield all that it was capable of Principle-
yielding. ofl
When ground has been long uncultivated, producing Cukiratioa.
all the time plants, not succulent, but such as are very 'v~
difficultly dissolved, and in a manner incapable of pu- ^ specie* of
trefaction $ there the soil will be excessively barren, and poor soil
yield very scanty crops, though cultivated with the meliorated
greatest care. Of this kind are those lands covered with by bme.
heath, which are found to be the most barren of any, and
the most difficultly brought to yield good crtips. In this
case lime will be as serviceable as it was detrimental
in the other: for by its septic qualities, it will con¬
tinually reduce more and more of the soil, to a putrid
state 5 and thus there will be a constant succession of
better and better crops, by the continued use of lime
when the quantity first laid on has exerted all its force.
By the continued use of this manure, the ground will be
gradually brought nearer and nearer to the nature of
garden mould $ and, no doubt, by proper care, might
restore it to its former state; the present question is,
 7   ~ c * *
What must be done in order to obtain this end P We
have mentioned several kinds of manures which lono-
practice has recommended as serviceable for improving
ground : we shall suppose the farmer tries lime or
chalk j for, as we have already seen, their operations
upon the soil must be precisely the same. This sub¬
stance, being of a septic nature, will act upon such
parts of the soil as are not putrefied, or but imperfect¬
ly so; in consequence of which, the farmer will reap a
better crop than formerly. The septic nature of the
lime is not altered by any length of time. In plough-
ing the ground, the lime is more and more perfectly
mixed with it, and gradually exerts its power on every
putrescible matter it touches. As long as any matter
of this kind remains, the farmer will reap good crops j
but when the putrescible matter is all exhausted, the
ground then becomes perfectly barren j and the cau¬
stic qualities of the lime are most unjustly blamed for
burning the ground, and reducing it to a caput mor-
tmm; while it is plain the lime has only done its of-
be made as good as any: but it will be as great a mis¬
take to imagine, that, by the use of lime, this kind of
soil may be rendered perpetually fertile, as to think
that the other wras naturally so j for though lime en¬
riches this soil, it does so, not by adding vegetable food
to it, but by preparing what it already contains ; and
when all is properly prepared, it must as certainly be
exhausted as in the other case. ^
Here, then, we have examples of two kinds of poor Poor
soils ; one of which is totally destroyed, the other great- h°w ««t*-
ly improved, by lime, and which therefore require veryre^’
different manures ; lime being more proper for the last
than dung j while dung, being more proper to restore
an exhausted soil than lime $ ought only to be used for
the first. Besides dunging land which has been exhaust¬
ed by long cropping, it is of great service to let it lie
fallow for some time : for to this it owed its original
fertility ; and what gave the fertility originally, cannot
fail to restore it in some degree.
By attending to the distinction between the reasons
for the poverty of the two soils just now mentioned, we
will al ways be able to judge with certainty in what cases
lime is to be used, and when dung is proper. The
mere poverty of a soil is not a criterion whereby we can
judge j we must consider what hath made it poor. If
it is naturally so, we may almost infallibly conclude, that
it will become better by being manured vvith lime. If
it is artificially poor, or exhausted by continual crop-
ping, we may conclude that lime will entirely destroy it.
—We apprehend, that it is this rcataro/kind of poverty
only which Mr Anderson says, in his Essays on Agri¬
culture, may be remedied by lime ; for we can scarce
think that experience would direct any person to put
lime upon land already exhausted. His words are,
77
“ Calcareous matters act as powerfully upon land Ander-
that is naturally poor, as upon land that is more son’‘ °^
richly impregnated with those substances that tend
to produce a luxuriant vegetation.” i;m#. k
Writers on agriculture have long been in the cu¬
stom of dividing manures into two classes, viz. Enrich¬
ing manures, or those that tended directly to render the
soil more prolific, however sterile it may be j among
the foremost of which was dung: Exciting manures, or
those that were supposed to have a tendency to render
the soil more prolific, merely by acting upon those en-
S 6 2 riching
324 A G R I C U
Principles riching manures that had been formerly in the soil, and
of giving them a new stimulus, so as to enable them to
Cultivation. 0perate anew upon the soil which they had formerly fer-
v ' tilized. In which class of stimulating manures, lime
was always allowed to hold the foremost place.
“ In consequence of this theory, it would follow,
that lime could only be of use as a manure when ap¬
plied to rich soils ;—and, when applied to poor soils,
would produce hardly any, or even perhaps hurtful, ef¬
fects.
“ I will frankly acknowledge, that I myself was so
far imposed upon by the beauty of this theory, as to
be hurried along with the general current of mankind,
in the firm persuasion of the truth of this observation,
and for many years did not sufficiently advert to those
facts that were daily occurring to contradict this theory.
-—I am now, however, firmly convinced, from repeat¬
ed observations, that lime, and other calcareous ma¬
nures, produce a much greater proportional improve¬
ment upon poor soils than such as are richer ;—and that
lime alone, upon a poor soil, will, in many cases, pro¬
duce a much greater and more lasting degree of fertili¬
ty than dung.”
Thus far Mr Anderson’s experience is exactly con¬
formable to the theory we have laid down, and what
ought to happen according to our principles. He men¬
tions, however, some facts which seem very strongly to
militate against it j and indeed he himself seems to pro¬
ceed upon a theory altogether different.
78 #
44 Calcareous matter alone (says he) is not capable
of rearing plants to perfection ;—mould is neces¬
sary to be mixed with it in certain proportions,
before it can form a proper soil. It remains,
however, to be determined, what is the due pro¬
portion of these ingredients for forming a proper
soil.
Query con¬
cerning the
nature of a
groper soil.
“ We know that neither chalk, nor marl, nor lime,
can be made to nourish plants alone 5 and soils are some¬
times found that abound with the two first of these to
a faulty degree. But the proportion of calcareous mat¬
ter in these is so much larger than could ever be produ¬
ced by art, where the soil was naturally destitute of these
substances, that there seems to be no danger of erring
on that side. Probably it would be much easier to cor¬
rect the defects of those soils in which calcareous mat¬
ters superabound, by driving earth upon them as a ma¬
nure, than is generally imagined 5 as a very small pro¬
portion of it sometimes affords a very perfect soil. I
*2 shall illustrate my meaning by a few examples.
Examples “ Near Sandside, in the county of Caithness, there
of soil per- is a pretty extensive plain on the sea coast, endowed
petually wJth a most singular degree of fertility. In all seasons
it produces a most luxuriant herbage, although it never
got any manure since the creation; and has been from
time immemorial subjected to the following course of
crops.
“ 1. Bear, after once ploughing from grass,
usually a good crop.
“ 2. Bear, after once ploughing, a better crop
than the first.
“ 3. Bear, after once ploughing, a crop equal
to the first.
“ 4. 5. and 6. Natural grass, as close and rich
as could be imagined 5 might be cut, if the
3
L T U R E. Theorj
possessor so inclined, and would yield an ex- Principij
traordinary crop of hay each year. 0f 1
“ After this the same course of cropping is renewed. ^nhbati[
The soil that admits of this singular mode of farming, ''
appears to be a pure incoherent sand, destitute of the
smallest particle of vegetable mould ; but, upon exami¬
nation, it is found to consist almost entirely of broken
shells : the fine mould here bears such a small proper- i
tion to the calcareous matter, as to be scarce percep¬
tible, and yet it forms the most fertile soil that ever I
yet met with.
“ I have seen many other links (downs) upon the
sea shore, which produced the most luxuriant herbage,
and the closest and sweetest pile of grass, where they
consisted of shelly sand 5 which, without doubt, derive
their extraordinary fertility from that cause.
“ A very remarkable plain is found in the island of
Jir-eye, one of the Hebrides. It has been long em¬
ployed as a common : so that it has never been disturb¬
ed by the plough, and affords annually the most luxu¬
riant crop of herbage, consisting of white clover and
other valuable pasture grass, that can be met with any¬
where. The soil consists of a very pure shelly sand.
“ From these examples, I think it is evident, that a
very small proportion of vegetable mould is sufficient ta
render calcareous matter a very rich soil. Perhaps,
however, a larger proportion may be necessary when it
is mixed with clay than with sand j as poor chalky soils
seem to be of the nature of that composition.”
To these examples brought by Mr Anderson, we
may add some of the same kind mentioned by Lord
Karnes. His lordship having endeavoured to establish
the theory of water being the only food of plants,
though he himself frequently deviates from that theory,
yet thinks it possible, upon such a principle, to make a
soil perpetually fertile.
“ To recruit (says he), with vegetable food, a soil
impoverished by cropping, has hitherto been held the
only object of agriculture. But here opens a grander
object, worthy to employ our keenest industry, that of
making a soil perpetually fertile. Such soils actually
exist •, and why should it be thought, that imitation
here is above the reach of art ? Many are the instan*
ces of nature being imitated with success. Let us not
despair while any hope remains ; for invention never
was exercised upon a subject of greater utility. The
attempt may suggest proper experiments : it may open
new views $ and if we fail in equalling nature, may we
not, however, hope to approach it. A soil perpetually
fertile must be endowed with a power to retain moisture
sufficient for its plants, and at the same time must be
of a nature that does not harden by moisture. Calca¬
reous earth promises to answer both ends : it prevents
a soil from being hardened by water j and it may pro¬
bably also invigorate its retentive quality. A field
that got a sufficient dose of clay marl, carried above 30
successive rich crops, without either dung or fallow. Doth
not a soil so meliorated draw near to one perpetually
fertile ? Near the east side of Fife, the coast for a mile
inward is covered with sea sand, a foot deep or so ;
which is extremely fertile, by a mixture of sea shells
reduced to powder by attrition. The powdered shells,
being the same with shell marl, make the sand retentive
of moisture ; and yet no quantity of moisture will unite
the sand into a solid body. A soil so mixed seems to
be
eory.
A G R I C U
I
:tual
ciples lie not far distant from one perpetually fertile. These,
it is true, are but faint essays j but what will not per-
radon-severance accomplish in a good cause?”
Having thus, in a manner, positively determined with
Mr Anderson, that no dose of calcareous matter can
possibly be too great, we cannot help owning ourselves
surprised on finding his lordship expressing himself as
sis- follows : “ An overdose of shell marl, laid perhaps an
b1 inch, and an inch and an half, or two inches thick,
s,s produces, for a time, large crops : but at last it renders
^ the soil a caput mortuum, capable of bearing neither
corn nor grass j of which there are too many instances
in Scotland. I he same probably would follow from an
overdose of clay marl, stone marl, or pounded lime¬
stone.”—To account for this, he is obliged to make a
supposition directly contrary to his former one ; name¬
ly, that calcareous matter renders the soil incapable of
retaining water. This phenomenon, however, we think
is solved upon the principles above laid down, in a sa¬
tisfactory manner, and without the least inconsistency.
As to rendering soils perpetually fertile, we cannot
help thinking the attempt altogether chimerical and
vain. There is not one example in nature of a soil
'ty°f perpetually fertile, where it has no supply but from the
; imc*air and the rain which falls upon it. The above re¬
cited examples can by no means be admitted as proofs
of perpetual fertility. We know, that the grass on the
banks of a river, is much more luxuriant than what
grows at a distance : the reason is, that the water is at¬
tracted by the earth, and communicates its fertilizing
qualities to it; but was the river to be dried up, the
grass would soon become like the rest. Why should
not the ocean have the same power of fertilizing plains
near its shores, that rivers have of fertilizing small spots
near their banks ? We see, however, that it hath not :
for the sea shores are generally sandy and barren. The
reason of this is, that the waters of the ocean contain a
Wa. quantity of loose acid * ; and this acid is poisonous to
plants : but abstracting this acid part, we hesitate not
to affirm, that sea water is more fertilizing than river
water. It is impossible to know how far the waters of
the ocean penetrate under ground through a sandy
soil. Where they meet with nothing to absorb their
acid, there the ground is quite barren; but in passing
through an immense quantity of broken shells, the caU
careous matter, we are very certain, will absorb all the
acid ; and thus the soil will be continually benefited by
its vicinity to the ocean. All the above fields, there¬
fore, are evidently supplied with nourishment from the
ocean : for if the salt water has sufficient efficacy to
render fields which are in its neighbourhood barren,
why should it not render them fertile when the cause of
barrenness is removed from its waters ?
After all, the field in Caithness, mentioned by Mr
Anderson, seems to have been perpetually fertile only
in grass ; for though the second year it carried a better
crop of bear than it did the first, yet the third year
the crop was worse than the second, and only equal to
the first. Had it been ploughed a fourth time, the crop
would probably have been worse than the first. Ground
is not near so much exhausted by grass as corn, even
though the crop be cut and carried off; and still less
if it only feeds cattle, and is manured by their dung ;
which appeal’s to have been the case with this field.
L T U R E. 325
Lord Karnes, indeed, mentions fields in Scotland, that, Principles
past memory, have carried successive crops of wheat, of
pease, barley, oats, without a fallow, and without ma- Cultivation,
nure ; and particularises one on the river Carron, of' v
nine or ten acres, which had carried 103 crops of oats
without intermission and without manure: but as we
aie not acquainted with any such fields, nor know any
t nng about their particular situation, we can form no
judgment concerning them.
Besides the two kinds of soils above mentioned, there
are others, the principal ingredient of which is clay or sandy3soils,
sand. I he first of tliese is apt to be hardened by the
heat oi the sun, so that the vegetables can scarce pe-
netiate it in such a manner as to receive proper nou¬
rishment. The second, if it is not situated so as to re¬
ceive a great deal of moisture, is very apt to be parch¬
ed up in summer and the crop destroyed; nor has it
sufficient adhesion to support plants that have few roots
and grow high. From these opposite qualities, it is
evident that these two soils would be a proper manure
for one another : the clay would give a sufficient de¬
gree of firmness to the sand, and the sand would break
the too great tenacity of the clay. According to Dr
Home s experiments, however, sand is the worst manure
ffir clay that can be used. He recommends marl most.
To reduce clay ground as near as possible to the form
of pure vegetable mould, it must first be pulverized.
This is most effectually performed by ploughing and
harrowing, but care must be taken not to plough it ..
whilst too wet, otherwise it will concrete into hard clots
which can scarcely be broken. After it is pulverized,
however, some means must be taken to keep it from
concreting again into the same hard masses as before.
According to Lord Karnes, though clay, after pulve¬
rization, will concrete into as hard a mass as before, if
mixed with water; yet if mixed with dunghill juice,
it will not concrete any more. Lime also breaks its
tenacity, and is very useful as a manure for this kind >
of soil.
The conclusion we wish the practical farmer to drawFerffiL of
from our theory is, That there is a certain limit to the the earth
fertility of the earth, both as to duration and to de-limited*
gree, at any particular time : that the nearer any soil
approaches to the nature of pure garden mould, the
nearer it is to the most perfect degree of fertility ; but
that there are no hopes of keeping it perpetually in
such a state, or in any degree of approximation to it,
but by constant and regular manuring with dung.
Lime, chalk, marl, &c. may be proper to bring it
near to this state, but are absolutely unfit to keep it
continually so. They may indeed for several years
produce large crops ; but the more they increase the
fertility for some years, the sooner will they bring on
an absolute barrenness ; while regular manuring with
plenty of dung will always ensure the keeping up the
soil in good condition. What we have said concern¬
ing the use of lime, See. applies likewise to the prac¬
tice of frequent ploughing, though in a less degree.
This tends to meliorate ground that is naturally poor,
by giving an opportunity to the vegetable parts to pu¬
trefy ; but when that is done, it tends to exhaust,
though not so much as lime. A judicious farmer will
constantly try to keep his lands always in good condi¬
tion, rather than to make them suddenly much better;
ksfc ,
326 AGRICULTURE. Theo.
Vegetablesa ^ew years should convince him that he was in
proper to be reality doing almost irreparable mischief, while he
raised for fancied himself making improvements.
Meliorat-
ing the Soil. gECT> y# qj fjie different kinds of Vegetables proper to
be raised with a view to the Melioration of Soil.
Soil palve- The methods of meliorating soils, which we have
eertuiiA^ nienti°ned above, consisting of tedious and laborious
gctables. operations that yield no return at first, it is natural for
a farmer to wish for some method of meliorating his
ground, and reaping crops at the same time. One very
considerable step towards the melioration of ground is
its pulverization. This is accomplished by repeated
ploughings (s), as already mentioned j especially if
performed in autumn, that the ground may be exposed
to the winter’s frost: but these ploughings yield no crop
as long as the field is not sown. By planting in the
field, however, those vegetables whose roots swell to a
considerable bulk, the ground must constantly be acted
upon by the swelling of their roots in all directions :
and thus the growing of the crop itself may be equal,
or superior in efficacy to several ploughings, at the
same time that the farmer enjoys the benefit of it. The
plant most remarkable for the swelling of its roots is
the potato. They are not, however, equally proper
for all soils. In clay they do not thrive, nor are pala¬
table 5 but in hard gx-avelly or sandy soils, they grow
to a’large size, and are of an excellent quality. Tur¬
nips likewise contribute to meliorate the ground, by
the swelling of their roots. In clay ground, pease and
beans thrive exceedingly well, and therefore are pro¬
per in this kind of soil as a preparatory for other kinds
of grain. These push their roots deep into the ground,
and cover it with their leaves, so that the sun has not
so much access as -when it is covered with crops of
grain. Wherever any of these kinds of vegetables are
raised, it is observable, that more or less blackness is
communicated to the soil : an evident sign of its me¬
lioration 5 this being the colour of the true vegetable
mould, or loamy soil, as it is called.
Besides the above-mentioned plants, carrots, parsnips,
cabbages, and all those vegetables which sink their roots
deep in the ground, answer the same purpose of loosen¬
ing and pulverizing the earth : but as they will not
thrive but on ground already well cultivated, they can¬
not be raised to any advantage for the purpose of melio¬
rating a poor soil.
It has been customary in many places, particularly
in England, to sow turnip, pease, buck-wheat, &c, and
then to plough them down for manuring the land.
This being similar to that operation of nature by which
she renders the uncultivated soils so exceedingly fertile,
cannot fail of being attehded with singular advantages.
In addition to this, it may be proper to remark, that
an idea has been entertained with regard to the suc¬
cession of vegetables to each other, which ought not
to be overlooked, as at some future period it may lead
to important consequences. It has been supposed,
that the roots of plants, or at least of some plants, pos-ofDesl
sess a power of throwing out, as excrementitious, a parting We
of the substances which they have taken in, but which  ^
are no longer necessary for their subsistence or growth. ,gom
It is undoubted, at least, that while by some plants tables ?!
the soil seems to be rendered altogether unfit for the to enric
production of certain others, it is rendered by different the i6il,
plants extremely well adapted to their growth. Thus
wheat succeeds uncommonly well after drilled beans ;
and these two vegetables have even been repeated for a
great number of years in rotation, without any defici¬
ency or failure of crop.
Sect. VI. Of destroying Weeds.
What we have already said regarding the cultiva¬
tion of the soil, respects only the fitting it for pro¬
ducing all kinds off vegetables indiscriminately. Ex¬
perience, however, shows, that the ground is natu¬
rally much more disposed to produce and nourish some
kinds of vegetables than others j and those which the
earth seems most to delight in, are commonly such as
are of very little use to man j but if neglected, will
increase to such a degree, as entirely to destroy the
plants intended to be raised, or at least hinder them
from coming to perfection, by depriving them of nou¬
rishment. The clearing the ground of weeds, there¬
fore, is an article no less necessary in agriculture, than
the disposing it to produce vegetables of any kind in
plenty. _ . . 8<f
The weeds maybe divided, according to the time Weeds d
of their duration, into annual, or such as spring from Tidedint
a seed, and die the same year j anOi perennial, that is, allnual,a
such as are propagated by the seeds, and last for a Pereim“
number of years. The first kind are the least noxious,
and most easily destroyed. For this purpose it will be
sufficient to let them spring up till near the time of
ripening their seed, and then plough them down be¬
fore it comes to maturity. It is also of service to de¬
stroy such weeds as grow in borders or neglected cor¬
ners, and frequently scatter their seeds to a great di¬
stance j such as the thistle, dandelion, rag-weed, &c.
for these are sufficient to propagate their species through
a deal of ground ', as their seeds are carried about with
the wind t;o very considerable distances. A farmer
ought also to take care, that the small seeds of weeds,
separated from corn in winnowing, be not sown again
upon the ground j for this certainly happens when they
are thrown upon a dunghill j because, being the natu¬
ral offspring of the earth, they are not easily destroyed.
The best method of preventing any mischief from this
cause, would be to burn them. ^
Perennial weeds cannot be effectually destroyed, but perenni»i
by removing the roots from the ground, which is often weedi, h'
a matter of some difficulty. Many of these roots strike destrored
so deep in the ground, that they can scarcely be got
out. The only method that can be depended upon in
this,case, is frequent ploughing, to render the ground
as tender as possible ; and harrowing with a particular
kind
(s) This, however, must be understood with some limitation j for it appears from experience, that many
light and thin soils receive detriment rather than advantage from frequent ploughings j particularly in summer,
when the sun exhales the nutritive particles in great abundance.
:ory. AGRICULTURE.
stroy-kind of harrow, winch shall hereafter be described, in
Teeds. order to collect these pernicious roots. When collect-
ed, they ought to be dried and burnt, as the only ef¬
fectual method of ensuring their doing no further mis¬
chief.
There is a particular species of weed, peculiar only
to grass lands of a soft spongy nature, called Jog,
which it is found very difficult to exterminate. This
weed may be destroyed by lime, and passing a heavy
roller over the ground will be of great service ; for fog
owes its origin to too great a laxity of the soil, and
s will not grow on firm ground.
t) Besides these kinds of weeds which are of an herba-
&e. ceous nature, there are others which are woody, and
es- grow to a very considerable size ; such as broooi, furze
or whins, and thorns. Broom is an evergreen shrub,
that thrives best in a sandy soil; and there it grows so
vigorously, as scarcely to admit any grass under it. It
propagates by seed which grows in pods j and these,
when fully ripe, break with violence, scattering the
seeds all around. Thus, a field which is overgrown
with broom, besides the old plants, always contains an
infinite number of young ones : so that though the old
plants die when cut over, afresh crop constantly springs
up. It may, however, be destroyed by frequent plough¬
ing and harrowing, in the same manner as other per¬
ennial weeds are j for it does not for some time carry
any seed, and the frequent ploughing encourages the ve¬
getation of all those seeds that are already in the ground,
which cannot fail of being destroyed by frequent repe¬
titions of the operation. Another method of destroy¬
ing broom, is by pasturing the field where it grows
With sheep. A few of the old bushes may be left as a
shelter, and these will be in a good measure prevented
from spreading by the cropping of the. sheep. These
animals are very fond of broom, and greedily devour
every young shoot j so that if any remain after the first
year, there will not be a vestige the second. If this
method of extirpating broom is equally effectual with
that of frequent ploughing, it is certainly much more
profitable, as there is no food more nourishing to sheep
than young broom. Broom, however, is said to have
a singular effect upon sheep *, it makes them drunk so
effectually, that when heated with a little driving, they
tumble over, and lie without motion-
The whin \s a fine evergreen shrub, carrying a sweet-
smelling flower all the year round. It propagates both
by seed and by its roots, which spread sometimes to the
distance of 10 or 12 feet; and hence, when once esta^
blished, it is with difficulty extirpated. The best me¬
thod is to set fire to the whins in frosty weather; for
frost has the effect to wither whins, and make them
bum readily. The stumps must then be cut over with
a hatchet j and when the ground is well softened by
rain, it may be ploughed up, and the roots taken out
by a harrow adapted to that purpose. If the field is
soon laid down to grass, the whins will again spring up
m great abundance from the seeds, and small parts of
the roots left in the ground. In this case, pasturing
With sheep is an effectual remedy ; as they are no less
fond of young whins than of young broom ; and if
there are a sufficient number, they will not leave a single
plant above ground. But if grass is not immediately
wanted, the most effectual method of clearing a field
of whins, is by reiterated ploughings.
327
Ihe thorn, or bramble, spreads its roots very wide, Diseases cr
and at the same time sinks them deep in the earth. Plants.
I hough cut in winter, it rises and comes to such per- kiv“"1
fection as to carry fruit in summer. It can only be
extirpated by ploughing up the ground and collecting
the roots.
. ^ne effectual plan, which, as will afterwards appear, shrubs9ar«
is practicable in many more situations than it has hi-destroyed
therto been applied to, for destroying these and all^y flooding,
other woody shrubs and plants, together with a great
number of weeds, that are of no value upon pasture
grounds, consists of flooding the land, by directing
over it a stream of water. By means of such a device,
all whins and other shrubs are completely rotted and
destroyed.
Sect. VII. Of the Diseases of Plants.
As some of the most valuable kinds of vegetables The dfseat-
are liable to suffer much by diseases peculiar to them-es of vege-
selves, it is of much importance to the husbandman ?able* ar«
to be aware of this circumstance, and to adopt every111 imder”
known mode of protecting his crop against them.St0°^’
At the same time, as the principles of vegetable life
are by no means well understood, the causes and the
cure of the most serious diseases affecting plants still
remain under a great degree of obscurity, and the most
experienced and intelligent husbandmen express great
uncertainty respecting the measures to be adopted for
preventing their appearance. Hence it appears most
proper to introduce the consideration of them in this
place before we proceed to the practical part of the
subject; and as wheat is accounted the most valuable
kind of grain, we shall begin with the diseases to
which it is exposed.
Wheat chiefly suffers from two diseases, the blight Disease* u
and the mildew. Of the blight in wheat we shall which
give an account upon the authority of an essay bywhea»i*
liobert Somerville, Esq. surgeon, 1st Battalion 8th^a^e*
Fencible Begiment, inserted in the communications to
the Board of Agriculture*, giving a statement of the* Vol.ii.
nature and appearance of the blight which occasioned 53
the failure of the crop in 1795.—When the crop had Blight ki
just shaken the flowers, and the grains were beginning 1795.
to form, most of them seemingly in, a healthy manner,
it was observed that many of the blades and stalks
were rather of a dirty green colour, and in two weeks
thereafter there appeared upon them great numbers of
small red insects. As the season advanced, these in¬
sects not only increased in size, but became more nu¬
merous, and in almost every field the grain began to
manifest unequivocal symptoms of disease, which were
so formidable, that in many instances a total loss was
dreaded, and in not a few cases, one half of the crop
was actually destroyed. The minute symptoms of the
blight were these:
1st, In the very early stages of the disease, and before
the ear was affected, the blades and stalks were marked
with black and rusty spots. These spots seemed to be
occasioned by a glutinous substance deposited upon them,
easily soluble in water, and which could be readily
washed off by rubbing the stalks with a wet cloth.
Some spots, however, were white, and these seemed to ■
be owing to wounds or punctures made by.vermine ; the
leaf having, to a certain extent, in consequence of
these,,
328
Diseases of these, withered and become white. As the season ad-
Plants. vanced, the black and rusty-coloured spots became
u-—iarger and more numerous : and when the grain began
to ripen, not only the blades but the straw were almost
entirely coloured with black spots.
2d, After the crop bad begun to shoot, and was in
the ear, many of the heads were entirely empty.
Where the stalk was green, and to appearance toler¬
ably healthy, but the ear at the same time withered
and without grain, the misfortune seemed to have
arisen from an injury done to the neck of the ear, at
the place of its junction with the stalk. There the
outer rind was destroyed all round, which must have
cut off the circulation between the ear and the stalk,
as happens in trees that have had their bark destroyed
all round.
3d, Many of the ears were entirely empty in the
upper part, while the lower half was well filled. In
these cases, the injury seemed owing to the rind being
destroyed about the middle of the ear, at that place
which separated the full from the empty part, and was
similar to the injury done in the preceding case where
the whole ear was destroyed.
4th, In very many cases the ears had a plump well-
filled pickle and an empty husk alternately. In these
the injury seemed owing to a wound inflicted at the
bottom of the empty grains, where they are joined to
the stalk, and which had taken place while they were
in flower, preventing them from making any farther
progress.
5th, Many ears, though not entirely empty, contain¬
ed only small shrivelled grains, or what are called
hungry pickles. These seemed to have escaped any
accident till they had made some progress in filling, af¬
ter which they become stationary and ripened prema¬
turely. On examination they were found to be injur¬
ed at the place where they were joined to the stalk,
in the same manner, as was already mentioned, in the
case of those that had empty heads or ears. Like these
also the whole ear was in some cases ill filled. In others
only half of it was in that state, and in a very great
number the ears consisted of a well and ill filled grain
alternately. Without a single exception, the whole of
the ill filled or hungry grains, were wounded at the
place of their insertion into the ear.
6th, A number of ears, though well filled, were upon
opening the husks found almost entirely covered with
black and rusty spots, nearly resembling those already
described, and like them also they were easily rubbed
or washed off. The downy part of many of these grains,
when examined carefully with a good glass, appeared
to contain several small white transparent globes, re¬
sembling the eggs of insects.
7th, In many fields, especially such as had been fal¬
lowed and well manured for the wheat crop, a great
number of plants were entirely withered from top to
bottom.- The decay in most of these cases, took place
when the wheat was beginning to shoot. No injury
was visible in these cases upon the blade or stalk, but
on examining the roots, a worm was found at every one
of them.
Lastly, As the crop began to whiten, the dark or
rusty spots on the straw and ears became more numer¬
ous, and appeared more conspicuous. In place of put-
Theoi| r
ting on a white or yellow appearance, the whole crop Disease:
looked as if it had been sprinkled with soot. Plant ]
The whole of these symptoms appeared to arise from 'T'l
the attack of an insect, and from the injuries and de- ^
predation which it committed upon the plants. This
insect, when first distinguishable by the eye, was of a
red colour, and so soft as to be killed by the slightest
pressure. As it increased in size the colour gradually
changed to a dirty black, at which it became stationary.
During its growth it lost its soft texture, and in propor¬
tion as its colour darkened it became hard, and as it p
were covered with a crust or shell upon the back. It
is said to be not uncommon, and to be met with at all
times, even in the best fields of wheat, though its num¬
bers are infinitely increased in late wet seasons. From
its eggs appearing to lodge upon the well-filled ears of
the grain, it may be considered as in danger of being
propagated to the succeeding crop. On this account our
author hazards some conjectures upon the best means
of preventing future danger from it. One of these
consists of the use of lime mixed up with all manure,
with a view to prevent insects from being generated
in it. It is also suggested that the manure, by means
of which slugs and worms are chiefly supposed to be
produced, ought not to be plowed into the ground in
autumn, but applied as a top-dressing in the spring j be¬
cause it is understood that manure, exposed to the sun
and air, has much less tendency to foster insects, than
when it is covered up in the earth. $3 ||j
Another disease, which is much more destructive to Mildew
wheat, and much more frequently met with, is the mil- ^
dew. It is of two kinds, the black and the red. In both
cases it consists of a quantity of seemingly coarse pow¬
der attached to the grain in the ear, or loosely sur¬
rounding it; in consequence of which it is evidently
prevented from filling or arriving at perfection. The
black kind of mildew is by far the most frequent and
the most pernicious. It is most generally known in Eng¬
land by the name of smut, and in Scotland by that of the
black, both of which are sufficiently expressive. Con¬
cerning the cause of this disease various opinions have
been entertained. Dr Home, in his Principles of
Agriculture and Vegetation, ascribes it to an overluxu-
riancy of growth. He is of opinion, that too great an
abundance of juices in a vegetable will produce dis¬
eases similar to those occasioned by repletion in animal
bodies, viz. stagnations, corruptions, varices, cariosities,
&c. along with the too great luxuriancy we have just
now mentioned, which he expresses by “ too great an
abundance of water shoots.” Hence he is induced to
class the smut among diseases arising from this cause, it
being a corruption happening most in rainy ssasons and
to weak grain. Like other contagious diseases, he
tells us, the smut may be communicated from the in¬
fected to healthful grain. As a preventive he re¬
commends steeping the seed in a strong pickle of sea
salt. Besides the effect which this has upon the grain
itself, it is useful for separating the good from the bad j
the best seed falling to the bottom, and the faulty
swimming on the top of the liquor. 54
Independent of this notion of an over luxuriancy ofopini0111
growth, it may be observed, that two opinions have concert
chiefly been supported by persons who have speculated
and written on this subject. One opinion is, that the
mildew
AGRICULTURE.
leory. AGRICULTURE.
:a^es ofniiMew consists of a great iriultitude of parasitical
laats
P5
ana’s
plants adhering to the grains of wheat, living upon it,
'and thereby consuming its substance. Another opi¬
nion is, that it consists of great numbers of insects and
of eggs ol insects, whose form is too small to be distin¬
guishable by the naked eye. The first of these opinions
has been adopted by the celebrated Italian writer Fon¬
tana, and the other by certain writers of our own
country.
Fontana endeavours to refute the hypothesis, that
the dust oi the mildew consists of animal eggs, by the
following experiment. He closely confined °the grains
of the mildew between two glass plates, in such a
manner as necessarily to break the supposed eggs. He
then, with an accurate microscope, observed them while
crushed in succession. No liquid or glutinous juice
proceeded from them, though great force was used in
crushing them *, but they appeared wholly to consist
of tough resisting substances altogether unlike real ani¬
mal eggs their being fastened to the stalks or leaves
of the grain, appeared also to militate against such a
supposition. From a variety of microscopic observa¬
tions, he is of opinion, that the powder of the black
mildew or smut consists of a great multitude of small
plants attached to the grain by a slender fibre. These
parasitical plants, though extremely small, he thinks
sufficiently regular. With regard to the red mildew,
he admits, that it appears to be composed of an im¬
mense multitude of minute eggs. After a variety of
experiments and observations, however, he thought he
discovered, that these apparent eggs are in truth the
heads or fruit of very fine threads fixed on the ear
of corn ; that these threads or stems are exceedingly
fine and transparent, which gives the appearance of
eggs to their outward extremities. These stems or tails
are represented by him, as infinitely finer than those of
the black mildew *, and their heads, which resemble
eggs, may be separated from them by the slightest
shock. From all his observations he concludes, that
both the black and the red mildew consist of real
plants, though, perhaps, of an imperfect kind 5 and
that they enfeeble and waste the crop by absorbing the
nutritive juices of the plant. He observes, that,°if a
heavy rain speedily fall on an extensive mildew, wash¬
ing the leaves and stalks affected, it presently disap¬
pears with hardly any damage to the corn; because the
small plants having hardly taken root are easily disper¬
sed before any mischief is done. He thinks, that the
damage occasioned by this disease may sometimes be
moderated or diminished by cutting down the grain
before it is fully ripe. In this case, he says, that the
crop will be less than it ought to be ; but still it will
be considerably greater than if the customary time of
liarvest is waited for, when the disease will have leisure
to produce greater mischief.
In our own country, and particularly by Mr Somcr-
ViHe, in the essay already quoted, the smut in wheat
has been regarded as consisting of a great variety of in¬
sects. He also founds his opinion upon microscopic ob¬
servations, and apprehends that from them he has clear¬
ly ascertained the existence of the insects; and he thinks
that it is communicated to other grain by contact, in
consequence of the passage of the insects. Hence he en¬
deavours to explain the utility of steeping the seed in
Vol. I. Part I. f
320
pickles before it is sown, with a view to the destruc- Disease* t
tion of such insects*. k, te* of
-r, • . , V , Hants.
is to be remarked, that in all countries a greatv v—'
variety of these pickles has been contrived, with a . 96
view to prevent the existence of smut in wheat, some of to
which we shall now mention. One of the most com-?™?"
nun is ie sa.t pickle, consisting of a solution of com-mildew,
mou salt in water, of such strength as that an crp will
swim in it. Io the wheat, after it has been washed
in tins pickle, and the light grains removed, some new
slaked hme is added, and carefully mixed with it with
a wooden shovel, till it attain a sufficient degree of
dryness, in which state it is committed to the earth A
pickle consisting of very stale urine has also been recom¬
mended to be used for washing wheat that is meant to
be used as seed. It is attended with this disadvantage
however, that if the urine is very stale, and if any
length of time is suffered to elapse, in consequence of
ram or other accidents, before the grain is sown, its ve¬
getative power is said to be greatly injured by the cor¬
rosive quality of the volatile alkali with which such
urine abounds. I his is more particularly the case when
quicklime is added to the urine ; as the alkali is then
brought into a caustic state.
Another pickle has been proposed to the Board of
Agriculture by an Italian physician, J. B. Scandelfa
It is prepared and used in the following manner: —
lake of mtre, three pounds; alum, one pound ; vitriol
8ix ounces ; verdigris, three ounces ; wood-ashes, well
sifted, six pounds : Boil the whole in a copper with five
pails of water for an hour, then remove them from the
fire, and pour them into a large vessel ; then add six¬
teen pails of water, in which half a bushel of quicklime
has been previously dissolved: mix the whole intimate¬
ly, and allow them to stand till they are quite cold.
In this steep two bushels and a half of wheat are to be
plunged, and left for about six hours, stirring it up fre¬
quently with a wooden shovel, and skimming off what
rises to the surface ; the wheat is then to be withdrawn,
and spread out till it is dry enough for sowing. The
process is thus to be continued until the whole "quantity
of seed intended to be sown is pickled. The above
steep is generally sufficient for preparing about twenty-
four bushels of wheat.
Another pickle lias been recommended, consisting of Oomnum=-
a decoction in water of Barhadoes aloes, tobacco, and
hellebore powder. A committee of the Koyal Society Board
of Agriculture at Paris, in 1786, recommended the
following pickle for the same purpose, contrived by Annah of
iu. Inlet:—Pour upon 50 pounds of wood-ashes, goo Agricult.
pints of water; stir it well for three days, and then vo1, **•
draw off. W ash the black wheat in so many clear
waters as not at last to dirty it. Pleat the lye, so as
just to bear the hand in it; slake in the hot lye one
pound of lime to every seven or eight pints of it*. In¬
to the preparation dip the seed 111 baskets many times.
I or want of wood-ashes use potash, seven or eight pounds
for 100 pints of water. rw
In addition to these it may he remarked, that a solu-Arsenic
tien of arsenic in water is made use of in some counties U8ed t0
of England, as a pickle in which they wash or steep tiitt
the grain previous to its being sown, for the purpose 0fmikew’
protecting the future crop against smut.
The most complete set of experiments, however,
T t which
330 AGRICULTURE.
Diseases of which we have met with upon the subject, was made
Wants, by Arthur Young, Esq. at present secretary to the
^ ' Board of Agriculture. December 7. 1787, he sowed
Arthur I4 *)et*s w't^1 ^ie same sePC* w^eat as hlack with the
You no-Esq. smut as any he ever saw.
his experi¬
ments to
pie vent
liiiidew.
M°
99
Erskine of
Mart’s re¬
nted v.
1. Sown dry, nothing done to it.
2. Washed well in clean water.
3. Washed in lime-water.
4. Washed in lye op wood ashes.
Washed in an arsenic and salt mixture.
6. Steeped in lime-water four hours.
7. Ditto in the lye four hours.
Ditto in the arsenic four hours.
Ditto in lime-water 12 hours.
Ditto in the lye 12 hours.
Ditto in the arsenic 12 hours.
12. Ditto in the lime-water 24 hours.
13. Ditto in the lye 24 hours.
14. Ditto in the arsenic 24 hours.
8
9-
10.
11.
N° l. Had
2. Ditto
3. Ditto
4. Ditto
5. Ditto
6. Ditto
7. Ditto
8. Ditto
9. Ditto
10. Ditto
11. Ditto
12. Ditto
13. Ditto
14. Ditto
RESULT.
377 smutty ears.
325
43
31
28
' 12
3
1
6
o
4
o
o
5
A proposal has also been made, to destroy by means
of heat the insects which are supposed to propagate the
disease called stnut from the seed wheat to the future
crop. The following directions for that purpose are
extracted from the Agricultural Survey of the County
of Clackmannan, by J. F. Erskine, of Marr, Esq.
“ Let the wheat be laid upon the kiln, about three or
four inches thick : the kiln to be heated middling strong
with blind coal j the wheat to continue on the kiln for
24 hours, but turned frequently. After taking it off
the kiln, it must be allowed 24 hours to cool j during
which time it must be frequently turned *, then put it
through the fanners once or twice. After the wheat
has lain a few hours on the kiln, and the fire begins to
have effect, a great number of very small worms, for¬
merly undiscovered by the eye, appear on the top of
the grain, and are soon destroyed by the heat. These
come from blacked wheat, or other corns, that could
not be suspected to be indifferent j or may lie in or on
good wheat *, which worms continuing (when not thus
killed), might consume the corn after it is thrown into
the earth, thereby checking the growth entirely, or
preventing it from having the strength it otherwise
would have to bring forth a strong productive stalk.
This practice is said to have been brought from Ire¬
land, and is recommended as preferable to pickling. It
might perhaps be performed with greater success by
the use of a kiln heated by the steam of boiling water,
way already mentioned, as such a kiln would
Theory. |
instantly afford a fixed and known degree of heat Diseases oil
which could in no case be exceeded.” Plants, 1
After all, however, both from the reason of the
thino-, and from the concurring opinion of the most
experienced and intelligent farmers, we think ourselves
authorized to say, that the husbandman will act impru¬
dently if he place entire and complete confidence in any
one of the remedies above mentioned. His safest and
best plan for procuring crops of wheat free from smut is
this : In the first place, he ought to procure seed from
a situation in which the grain has risen absolutely free
from this disease. He ought next to exert the greatest
care in cleaning out, in the most anxious manner, his
whole barns and their floors, and every place within
doors into which his grain may come, and in which dis¬
eased grain has formerly been kept: with this view it
may probably be necessary to whitewash the walls with
a mixture of quicklime and water, which will prove an
effectual remedy. After having adopted these precau¬
tions, it may still be necessary, with a view to secure a
sound and full crop, to plunge the seed into a strong
pickle of salt and water, with a view to float the light¬
er grains, which ought to be skimmed off and laid aside
for poultry, to which they may be given after being
washed in fresh water.
The want of nourishment in plants may be easily
known by their decay *, in which case, the only remedy
is, to supply them with food, according to the methods
we have already directed, or to remove from their
neighbourhood such other plants as may draw oft' the joo
nourishment from those we wish to cultivate.—In thej)jseascs
Memoirs of the Academy of Sciences for 1728, Mrpeculiar:«
Du Hamel mentions a disease, which he calls le mort%saffron,
that attacks saffron in the spring. It is owing to an¬
other plant, a species of trefoil, fixing some violet- «
coloured threads, which are its roots, to the roots of
the saffron, and sucking out ite juice. This disease is
prevented by digging a trench, which saves all the un¬
affected. 10!
The bad qualities, and unequal distribution of the Vegetable:
juices of plants, are the occasion of so few of the diseases destroyed
to which vegetables in this country are subject, thatbyl
we forbear to mention them at present. Most of the
diseases of our plants are owing to external accidents,
particularly to the depredations of insects.—The insects
by which the greatest devastations are committed in
this country are, snails, caterpillars, grubs, and flies.
The snails and caterpillars feed on the leaves and young
shoots ; by which means they often totally destroy the
vegetable. Where the plants are of easy access, theseiBseets<l«
vermine may be destroyed by sprinkling the vegetablestroyedby
with lime-water for quicklime is a mortal poison tohBie‘v'a‘ti
creatures of this kind, and throws them into the great¬
est agonies the moment they are touched with it. On
trees, however, where this method cannot so well be
followed, fumigation is the most proper j and, for this
purpose, nothing is better than the smoke of vegetables
not perfectly dry. In some cases the eggs of these de¬
stroying creatures may be observed, and ought without
doubt immediately to be taken away. On the fruit
trees, as apples, pears, medlars, on some forest trees,
the oak and dwarf maple especially, and the white and
black thorn in hedges, a kind of little tufts are to be
observed, resembling at first sight withered leaves twist-*
ed by a cobweb, about the uppermost twigs or branch¬
es.
r °4
r iip-
’ iieory. A G R I C
3 cases ofcs. These contain a vast number of little black eggs,
’lants. that in the spring produce swarms of caterpillars which
' devour every thing. To prevent this, all the twigs on
which these cobwebs appear should be taken olf and
burnt as soon as possible. This ought to be done be-
tore the end of March, that none of the eggs be allow-
I0^ ed sufficient time for hatching.
C bs. grubs are a kind ot worms which destroy the
corn by feeding upon its roots; they are transformed
every fourth year into the beetles called cockchafers^
may-bugs, &c.; they are very destructive when in their
vermicular state, and cannot then be destroyed, because
they go deep into the ground. When become beetles,
they conceal themselves under the leaves of trees,
where they seem asleep till near sunset, when they take
their flight. It is only now that they can be destroy¬
ed, and that by a very laborious method j namely,
by spreading pack-sheets below the trees in the day¬
time when the beetles are in their torpid state, then
shaking them off and burning them. Some time ago
they made such devastations in the county of Norfolk,
that several farmers were entirely ruined by them ; one
gathered 80 bushels of these insects from the trees which
grew on his farm. It is said, that in 1574 there fell
such a multitude of these insects into the river Severn,
that they stopped and clogged the wheels of the water¬
mills.
Turnips, when young, are apt to be totally destroy¬
ed by a multitude of little black flies, from thence
called the turnip-fly. As a preventive of these,
some advise the seed to be mixed with brimstone j but
this is improper, as brimstone is found to be poisonous
to vegetables. The best method seems to be the fumi-
35 gation of the fields with the smoke of half-dried vege-
fjjented tables. For this purpose weeds will answer as well as
^ ^f1" any*. fumigation must no doubt be often repeat-
c' ed, in order to drive away the innumerable multitudes
of these insects which are capable of destroying a large
field of turnips.
Some have supposed that the fly is either engendered
in new dung, or enticed by it; and have therefore ad¬
vised the manure to be laid on in the autumn preced¬
ing* fiy which it loses all its noxious qualities, while its
nutritive ones are retained, notwithstanding these might
be supposed liable in some degree to be exhaled by the
sun. This method is said to have been ascertained by
experiments; and it is added, that another material
advantage accruing from autumn manuring for turnips
is, that all the seeds contained in the dung, and which
ol course are carried on the land with it, vegetate al¬
most immediately, are mostly killed by the severity of
the winter, and the few that remain seldom avoid des¬
truction from the ploughshare.
The following remedies are recommended as having
often proved successful:—A small quantity of soot
sown over the land at their first appearance. Branches
of elder, with the leaves bruised, drawn in a gate over
them. Musk mixed with the seed before it is sown.
And sulphur burnt under it, after moistening it with
water in which tobacco has been steeped.
But showers on the plants, as soon as they appear
above ground, are esteemed the best preservatives.
They enfeeble and kill the fly, and hasten the plants
into the rough leaf, in which state they are out of
danger.
U L T U R E. 33,
The sweet smell of the turnip has been thought to Diseases of
attract the fly 5 upon which supposition, the remedy Plants.
appeared to consist in overpowering that smell by one 1 *—w
which is strong, fetid, and disagreeable. Hence it has
been recommended that upon an acre of turnips sown
in the usual way, a peck or more of dry soot be thrown
after the ground is finished, and in as regular a way as
he sows the seed.
Some time ago an insect, called the corn butterfly, con!°L
committed such ravages while in its vermicular state, terftv.
in f ra»ce, that upwards of 200 parishes were ruined
by it; and the ministry offered a reward to the disco¬
verer of an effectual remedy against this destroying
worm. The cure which was at last discovered was,
to heat the corn in an oven so much as not to de¬
stroy its vegetative power, but sufficiently to destroy
the small worms which made their nest in the substance
of the grain, and at last ate out the substance so com¬
pletely, that nothing could be got from the husk even
by boiling it in water. It is certain, that though in¬
sects can bear a great deal of cold, they are easily de¬
stroyed by a slight degree of heat; nor is the vegeta¬
tive povyer of corn easily destroyed, even when kept for
a long time in a pretty strong heat. This method must
therefore be very effectual for destroying all kinds of
insects with which grain is apt to be infected : but care
must be taken not to apply too great a heat; and the
adjusting of the precise degree necessary to destroy the
insect, without hurting the corn, will be attended with
some difficulty.
. ?ul^e^.. ^*stease potatoes has long been a sub-The1 curled
ject of investigation and experiment among farmers disease in
and the knowledge of its cause and cure seems yet to potatoes,
remain a desideratum. The Agricultural Society at
Manchester, a few years ago, offered a premium for
discovering by actual experiment the cause of the dis¬
ease in question ; and a great variety of letters were in
consequence addressed to them upon the subject. As
these contain many interesting observations both on tire
disease itself, and the best methods hitherto adopted for
preventing it, the following abstract of them may not
improperly be introduced in this place.
I. According to the writer of the first letter, this Various
disease is caused by an insect produced by frost or bad methods of
keeping before setting; and the newest kinds, such asPreycnthm»
have been raised within these nine or ten years, are
most apt to curl, because they will not stand to be kept
in winter and spring before setting, as the old kinds
will. In autumn 1776, he got up a bed of potatoes to
lay by in winter, leaving plenty in the ground as regu¬
lar as possible; and, before the severity of winter came
on, covered part of the bed with straw and pease-haulm,
and left the other part of the bed uncovered. That
part of the bed which was covered was quite free from
culled ones ; but the uncovered part produced a great
many curled, owing, as the writer says, to frost and se¬
verity of the weather.
II. This writer had about a quarter of an acre of
potatoes, well manured with cow and horse dung, and
took the greatest care in picking the fine smooth-skinned
potatoes for sets ; yet nine out of ten parts were curled.
He attributes the cause of this disease to a white grub
or insect, which he found near the root, about half an
inch long, with eight or ten legs, its head brown and
hard ; as, upon examining a number of the curled roots,
T t 2 he
332
A G R I C U
;of he found them all bitten, chiefly from the surface to
the root, which of course stopped the progress of the
sap, and threw the leaf into a curl. The uncurled
roots were not bitten. He tried a few experiments as
follow:-—First, he put soot to the insects in the rows
for two days 5 and after that, he put lime to them for
the same time, but they still kept lively } next he put
a little salt, which destroyed them in a few hours.
From which he infers, that if coarse salt were put into
the ground at the time the land is preparing for pota¬
toes, it would effectually cure this distemper.
III. In this letter, the cause of the disease is attri¬
buted to the method of earthing the stems while in cul¬
tivation ; and the branch, striking root into the new
earthed-up soil, it is said, produces potatoes of such a
nature as the year following to cause the disease com¬
plained of.
To prevent the disease, it is recommended to take
the sets from those potatoes that have not bred any
from the branch covered 3 or, otherwise, to dig the part
the sets are to be raised from.
IV. According to this writer, the disorder proceeds
from potatoes being in old-tilled or worn-out ground 3
for though these potatoes may look tolerably well, yet
their sets will mostly, if not all, produce curled potatoes.
Hence he is convinced, that no sets ought to be used
from old-tilled or couch-grass land : and that in order
to have good sets, they should be procured from land
that was purposely fallowed for them 3 from fresh ley
land, where they are not curled 3 or from ley land that
was burnt last spring. He directs to plant them on
virgin mould, and the potatoes will have no curled ones
amongst them 3 and to keep them for winter, from any
other kind.
To avoid the uncertainty of getting good sets, he
recommends crabs to be gathered from potatoes grow¬
ing this year on fresh land free from curl, and the next
spring to sow them on fresh ley land 3 and continue to
plant their sets on fresh ley land yearly, which he is
convinced will prevent the curl.
All the good potatoes he saw this year, either on
fresh ley land or on old-tilled land, were raised from
sets that grew upon fresh ley land last year 3 and where
he has seen curled potatoes, he found, upon inquiry,
the potato sets grew upon old-tilled and worn-out land
last year. He gives as a general reason for the dis¬
order, that the land is oftener cropt than it had used to
be, much more corn being now raised than formerly.
V. In 1772, this writer planted some potatoes by
accident full nine inches deep : when taken up, many
of the plants were rotted, and a few curled. He kept
the whole produce for seed, and planted two acres with
it in 1773, not quite six inches deep. The crop w'as
amazingly great 3 and he did not observe any curled
plants among them. In 1774, many of these w’ere
planted in diflerent soils 3 yet they were so infected
with the curled disease, that not one in twenty escaped.
*775’ the complaint of this disease became general.
In 1776, it occurred to him that the good crop of
*773 was owing to the accidental deep setting of
1772 3 and that the reason why the same seed became
curled in 1774, was their being set so near the surface
in 1773 ; and attributes the disease to the practice of
ebb setting. In 1777, he took some potatoes from a
crop that was curled the year before, and after cutting
L T U R E. Theoi
the sets, left them in a dry room for a month. Half Disease*
were planted in ground dug fourteen days before j the Plan i
other half, having been steeped in a brine made of 1
whitster’s ashes for twTo hours, were also planted on the
same land at the same time. The steeped ones came
up ten days before the others, and hardly any missed or
were curled. The unsteeped ones generally failed, and
those few that came up were mostly curled.
He therefore advised as a remedy, 1. That the pota¬
toes intended for next year’s sets be planted nine inches
deep. 2. That they remain in the ground as long as the
season will permit. 3. That these sets be well defended
from frost till the beginning of March. 4. That the
sets be cut a fortnight before planting. 5. That they
be steeped, as above, two hours in brine or lye. 6. That
the dung be put over the sets. And, 7. That fresh sets
be got every year from sandy soils near the coast, or on
the shore.
P. S. At planting, the hard dry sets should be cast
aside, for they will probably be curled. Curled potatoes
always proceed from sets which do not rot or putrefy
in the ground.
VI. This writer had five drills of the old red pota¬
toes, and four of the winter whites, growing at the same
time in the same field. The drills were prepared ex¬
actly alike. Among the red not one was curled 3 the
winter whites were nearly all curled. He says he has
found by experience, that the red never curl.
VII. Two of the writer’s neighbours had their sets
out of one heap of potatoes. They both set with the
plough, the one early, and the other late, in the season.
Most of those early set proved curled, and most of those
set late smooth ; the latter on clay land.
A few roods of land were also planted with small po¬
tatoes, which had lain spread on a chamber floor all the
winter and spring till the middle of May. They were
soft and withered : they proved smooth and a good crop.
Middle-sized potatoes, withered and soft, which had
been kept in a large dry cellar, and the sprouts of which
had been broken off three times, produced also a smooth
good crop.
Hence he was led to think superfluity of sap, occa¬
sioned by the seed being unripe, might cause the disease.
To be satisfied in this, he asked the farmer whether he
had set any of the same potatoes this year, and what
was the nature of his land ? He told him “ he had 3
that they had been set on his farm fourteen years with¬
out ever curling 3 that his soil was a poor whitish sand,
of little depth 3 that he let those he designed for keep¬
ing grow till they were fully ripe.”
He-nce he concludes, the only sure way to prevent
the curl is, to let potatoes intended for seed stand till
they are fully ripe, and to keep them dry all winter.
A III. This writer set a quantity of the red potatoes,
without having a curled one amongst them. His me¬
thod is, when the sets are cut, to pick out such as are
reddest in the inside. On digging them up at Mi¬
chaelmas, he mixes none of the curled seed among the
others. The curled are easily distinguished, by their
stalks withering two months before the rest of the
crop.
The cause of the curled disease he attributes to pota¬
toes being of late years produced from seed instead of
roots as formerly. Such will not stand good more than
two or three yearg, use what method you please. Last
spring
icory.
easas ofspring lie set the old red and white russets, and had not
lauts. a curled potato amongst them.
On the limestone land about Denbigh, in North
Wales, they have no curled potatoes. If this be owing
to the nature of that land, perhaps lime might prevent
the disease.
IX. According to this writer, all sorts of grain wear
out and turn wild if sown too long on the same land ;
the same will hold good in all sorts of pulse, pease,
beans, and (as he conceives) potato-s. It generally
happens, that those who have most curled potatoes plant
very small sets.
Eleven years ago he bought a parcel of fresh sets, of
the golden-dun kind, and has used them without change
to the present year, without any being curled. This
he principally attributes to his having always planted
good large sets.
About four years since, he thought of changing his
sets, as his potatoes were too smooth, too round, and
much diminished in size. But the curl at that time be¬
ginning to be very alarming, he continued his sets till
part of his crop missing last year, he was obliged to buy
new sets this spring, which being small, were curled
like other people’s.
He allows, that the curl has frequently happened to
persons who have used large potatoes for sets 5 for, as
all roots are not equally affected, some curled ones may
be mixed with the rest.
To prevent the evil, cut your sets from clear and
middle-sized potatoes, gathered from places as clear of
the curl as possible; preserve them as usual till spring.
If any are harder, or grash more in cutting than usual,
cast them aside. He would also recommend the raising
a fresh sort from the crab produced on the sorts least
aifected, which in Lancashire are the long-duns.
X. Set potatoes with the sprits broke off, and they
will (says the writer of this letter) be curled ones ; if
set with the sprits on, they will not be curled. Again,
take a potato which is sprit, and cut a set off with two
sights; break one sprit off, and let the other stay on,
and set it j the former will be curled, and the latter
will not.
When you have holed your potatoes, take them out
before they are sprit, and lay them dry until you have
set or sown them, and you will have no curled pota¬
toes.
XL This writer was at the expence of jirocuring
sets at 50 miles distance, and where this disease was not
known. The first year’s trial was successful 5 the year
following he procured sets From the same place, but
one-fifth of his crop was infected. By way of experi¬
ment, he planted sets from roots which had been infect¬
ed the year before, and some of these produced healthy
plants, free from all infection.
As every effect must/have a cause, he supposed it
might be some insect, which, living on the leaves, gave
them that curled and sickly appearance, as is the case
m the leaves of many shrubs and trees. But whether
the insect is lodged in the old sets, and to be destroyed
:it the time of planting, or, proceeding from some ex¬
ternal cause, can only be destroyed afterwards, he is
not yet certain, although he has made the following
experiments.
On a piece of ground that had not been dug for 20
years, he planted four rows of sets, which lie knew to
2.
AGRICULTURE.
be penectly clear; the drills were two feet distant, the
sets one foot distant in each drill. He then planted
on the same ground four rows with sets from curled
potatoes, at equal distances; in each row were about
20 sets.
'1 's -y
A .5 3
Diseases of
Flams.
ajo ttt* IS^ ^ie Cl1rle(l sets.
X 1. Hithout manure, I N° 3. I„ SOot,
2‘ n Sa ^ T , I 4- In quicklime.
TTT. , 2"> Dhe clear sets.
N 1. Without manure, I N° 3. In soot,
2' n sa5t’ I 4* In quicklime.
Ihose planted in salt and soot in both lots were de¬
stroyer. In Lot 1st, N° 1. and 4. all curled. Lot 2d,
A 1. and 4. quite clear. *
.. lhl] exPeriment was made on a supposition that the
insect lodged in the set, and must be destroyed on plant¬
ing. But of that he is not fully satisfied. He re¬
peated salt, soot, and quicklime, on the branches of
several curled potatoes. Salt destroyed all he touched
with it. Lime and soot had, he thought, a partial ef¬
fect on the p ants. After some time, they appeared
almost as healthy as the rest. Thus, although he had
done little towards the cure, he flatters himself he has
pointed out the cause, the insects on the curled plants
being not only very numerous, but visible to the naked
eye.
, (PI- ll'*3 writer ascribes the cause of the disease
to tne frost, and bad keeping in winter and spring be¬
fore setting. They are liable to he damaged by frost
after they are set; but this may he prevented by co¬
vering. If it he asked, why frost did not injure them
formerly ? he answers, it is only the new kinds which
are apt to curl. To this may be added, that less care
is now taken of the seed than formerly. To prevent
the latter, let them remain in the ground covered with
haulm or litter till the time they are wanted for set¬
ting i and, in case no frost touches them afterwards
they will be free from the disease.
XIII. This writer says, the red potato was as gene¬
rally planted as the winter white and the Lincolnshire
kidney are now. The first, being a later potato, did
not sprout so early as the others. The white sprout
very early, and therefore should be first moved out of
the place where they have been preserved in the winter.
Instead of that, they are often let remain till their
roots and sprouts are matted together. On separating
them, these sprouts are generally rubbed off, and they
are laid by till the ground is ready ; during which in¬
terval they sprout a second time: hut these second
sprouts, being weak and languid, will shrink, sicken
and die; and the fruit at the roots will be small hard’
ill-shaped, and of a brown colour.
Now, if putting off the sprouts once or more, be¬
fore the sets are put in the ground, be the cause (as
he verily believes it is) of the curled disease, an easy
remedy is at hand. When the potatoes intended for
sets are dug up, lay them in a west aspect as dry as
possible. in such a situation they will not sprout so
soon. 1 he best time for removing most sorts, is the
first fine day after the 24th of February. Cut them
into sets as soon as possible, and let them remain co¬
vered with dry sand till the ground is prepared, which
should be a winter fallow. Lay the sets in without
breaking off any of the sprouts, for the second will not
fee,'.
334 A G XI I C U
]?i«pases otbe so vigorous. This accounts for one sprout out of
Plants, three from the same set being curled. The two stems
' not curled rose from two later eyes, and were first
sprouts. The sprout curled was a second, the first ha¬
ving been rubbed off.
XIV. This writer says, that last spring one of his
neighbours cut and set, in the usual way of drilling,
some loads of the largest potatoes he could procure j
and riiore than half of them proved curled. Being a
few sets short of the quantity wanted, he planted some
very small potatoes which he had laid by for the pigs.
These being fully ripe and solid, there was not a
curled plant among them. He apprehends, the others
being curled was owing to their not being fully ripe.
A crop of potatoes, set this year in rows, on ground
that had borne a crop of them last year, were mostly
curled ; but many plants came up from seed left in the
ground last season, and there was not a curled one
among them.
XV. Of late years, this writer says, great improve¬
ments have been made in setting potatoes and cutting
the sets. The ground is dressed cleaner and dunged
stronger. Many people, in drilling, wrap up the sets
entirely in the dung; by which means, though their
potatoes are larger, the disease seems to be increased.
They also cut their sets out of the richest and largest
potatoes, which is perhaps another cause of this evil.
In cold countries, where they set their own seed,
which has grown on poor land, with less dung, they
have no curled plants. On the contrary, when they
bought rich and large potatoes for seed, they have
been curled in great quantities. He believes, the
richness and largeness of the seed to be the cause of
the! evil; for he does not remember to have seen a
curled stem which did not spring from a set of a large
potato.
XVI. This writer apprehends the curled disease in
potatoes to proceed from a defect in the planta semina-
lis, or seed plant; and from comparing curled ones
with other's, there appeared to be a want of, or ina¬
bility in, the powers of expanding or unfolding the
parts of the former 5 which from this defect, forms
shrivelled, starved, curled stems. On examining some
of the sets at the time of getting the crop, he found
them hard and undecayed ; so hard, indeed, that some
of them would not be soft without long boiling. This
led him to think, that some manures might have the
same effect on them as tanners ooze has on leather,
and so harden them, that the embryo plant could not
come forth with ease; but a closer examination taught
him otherwise, and that they grow equally in all ma¬
nures.
Some have thought that the fermentation is occa¬
sioned by too great quantities being heaped together;
but the writer has seen an instance, wherein a single
potato, preserved by itself, when set, produced stems
of the curled kind. He thinks the most consistent and
rational opinion is, that the disease is occasioned by
the potatoes being taken from the ground before the
stamen, or miniature plant, is properly matured and
ripened.
For let it be observed, that the potato, being a na¬
tive of a warmer climate, has there more sun, and a
longer continuance in the ground, than in its present
exotic state, consequently it has not the same natural
L T U R E. Theoil
causes here to mature the seed plant as in its native DkeilJ
state. We ought, therefore, to give all the opportuni- Plant
ties our climate will admit for nature to complete her
work, and fit the stamen for the next state of vegeta¬
tion, especially in those intended for seed. But if the
potato be taken up before the seed-plant be fully ma¬
tured, or the air and sap vessels have acquired a proper
degree of firmness or hardness, it must, when thus rob¬
bed of further nutrition, shrivel up 5 and when the ves¬
sels, in this immature state, come to act again in the
second state of vegetation, they may produce plants
which are curled.
If it be asked, why are they more common now
than formerly ? he answers, that before the present
mode of setting them took place, people covered them,
while in the ground, with straw, to protect them from
frost.
If it be asked, why one set produces both curled and
smooth stems ? he answers, we suppose every eye to
contain a planta seminalis; that all the embryos, or
seed plants, contained in one potato, are nourished by
one root j and that, as in ears of corn, some of these
seed plants may be nourished before others.
One of his neighbours, last year, set two rows of
potatoes, which proving all curled, he did not take
them up 5 and this year there is not a curled one
among them. Such potatoes, therefore, as are design¬
ed for seed, should be preserved as long in the ground
as possible.
XVII. This writer advises such sets to be planted
as grow in moss land ; and, he says, there will not be
a single curled one the first year. This is affirmed by
the inhabitants of two townships, where they grow
amazing quantities. A medical gentleman sowed last
year two bushels of sets from one of the above places,
and had not one curled j but on sowing them again this
year, he had a few.
Notwithstanding there seems to be a diversity of
opinions in the above writers, occasioned by the differ¬
ent appearances of their crops, and the seemingly
contrary effects of the means used to prevent or cure
the disease, we conceive that the following general
propositions may be fairly drawn from the whole.
1. That some kinds of potatoes are {cceteris parihas)
much more liable to be affected by the disease than
the rest; and that the old-red, the golden-dun, and
the long-dun, are the most free from it 2. That the
disease is occasioned by one or more of the following
causes, either singly or combined: 1st, By frost, either
before or after the sets are planted : 2d, From planting
sets out of large unripe potatoes : 3d, From planting
too near the surface, and in old worn-out ground : 4th,
From the first shoots of the sets being broken off be¬
fore planting j by which means there is an incapacity
in the planta seminalis to send forth others sufficiently
vigorous to expand so fully as they ought.—3. That
the most successful methods of preventing the disease,
are cutting the sets from smooth middle-sized potatoes,
that were fully ripe, and had been kept dry after they
were taken out of the ground j and without rubbing oil
their first shoots, planting them pretty deep in fresh
earth, with a mixture of quicklime, or on limestone •
land.
A correspondent of the Bath Society is convinced,
that, whatever may be its cause, the fault itself is inhe¬
rent
)
a
u
N
(
I
rJ heoiy.
leases of rent in the seed; and has communicated the following
jjaiits. method of avoiding it: “I made a hot-bed in the fol-
L -y ' lowing manner (which method I have used ever since) :
I laid horse dung, &c. (as is generally used in making
hot-beds), about x8 inches thick ; over which I spread
a layer of fine rich mould about four or five inches
thick: upon the top of this mould I laid, in different
divisions, a certain number of potatoes of various sorts,
some of my own growth, and others brought from dif¬
ferent parts, and covered these lightly over with more
mould ; they soon came up. I then observed which
was freest from the blight or curl ; for if there were not
more than one defective inforti/ or fifty, ] concluded I
might set of that sort with safety. This method I
have now practised near twelve years, and never lost
my crop, or any part thereof worth mentioning; whilst
my neighbours, who followed the old method, were
frequently disappointed in their crops; and to the best
of my knowledge, all those of my neighbours who have
of late been persuaded to take the trouble of using the
same means as myself, have never failed of success to
their utmost wishes in one instance; nor do I ever think
it will fail, if duly attended to; the fault being some
hidden cause in the seed unknown at present, and I be¬
lieve incurable by any means, at least which have yet
come to my knowledge. My reason for planting my
hot-beds so soon is, that if the frost hinder the first
experiment, or they all prove bad, I may have time to
make a second or third, if necessary, with different sorts
of seed, before the proper season arrives for planting
in the fields and grounds appointed for the great and
general crops.”
In addition to the interesting information upon this
subject, which has been obtained by means of these so¬
cieties, various other speculations about the cause and
cure of this disease have of late been introduced to the
^ notice of the public. In particular it has been strongly
urged, that the disease is almost always occasioned bv
insects. It is said, that on looking at the roots of such
potatoes as grow up curled, it will usually be found,
that the bearing plant is devoured and excavated by
snails, centipedes, or beetles. Sometimes also, though
more rarely, the curl is supposed to arise from the
Ifeaves themselves being infected with minute animal-
cula. Hence, in rich soils in the neighbourhood of ci¬
ties and well-manured gardens, the potatoes are most
subject to the curl, because such insects as devour the
seed abound most in these soils. The insects are
thought to prefer one potato to another. They will
hardly touch a yam. A potato from a late part of the
country, which has been hardly ripened, the vermin do
not seem to like ; but a potato that has been somewhat
sweetened or mellowed by the frost, is supposed to bs
greedily devoured by them.
An ingenious notion concerning the cause of the
disease has been suggested from attending to the histo¬
ry of the plant in this country. The potato plant was
introduced into the island of Great Britain from a cli¬
mate much warmer than ours, as early as the reign of
Queen Elizabeth ; but it is a singular circumstance,
( ^ that the curled disease did not make its appearance till
within less than 40 years ago. Indeed, the disease is
< . said to have first occurred in the year 1764, in the
n °f very district of Lancashire where potatoes had been
' first cultivated. It is also said, that the Surinam po-
agriculture.
Ii r's
tato and some other kinds which have been more re¬
cently introduced into our climate, have never yet
exhibited any symptom of the curl. It is farther said,
that ill within these 40 years the potato plant never
bi ought its seeds to maturity in this country, though
the roots were in full perfection ; that the Surinam
potato and others lately introduced do not as yet pro¬
duce perfect seeds at the top of their stem; and that
potatoes which have been cultivated for a length of
time in bleak and mountainous situations, are still in
the same state, and do not bring their seeds to matu¬
rity. Hence it is endeavoured to be inferred, that
tnere exists a connexion in the nature of the plant be¬
tween this disease and the state of maturity to which
the seed is brought. It is supposed, that the plant is
unfit at once to afford mature and perfect seed at the
summit of its stem, and also roots capable of propa¬
gating it in perfection. From these premises it is sug¬
gested, that, to prevent the curl, it will be necessary
to procure seed potatoes from mountainous situations
into which the disease has not yet come, because the
plant has never produced perfect fruit at the summit
of its stem ; or an attempt may be made to procure
more perfect seed from the ordinary kind of potatoes by
destroying the flowers, which may have the effect to
prevent the plant from being exhausted by bringing
to maturity both fruit at its summit and roots at its
bottom. Lastly, It has been supposed, upon these i
principles, that the disease may be prevented by rearing
potatoes from the seed produced at the summit of the
stem ; the mode of practising which will afterwards be
explained.
. ^ie mean timej it may be observed, that the sub¬
ject has been farther discussed, in a less speculative
manner, by an anonymous correspondent of the Board
of Agriculture *. This gentleman does not consider th&*Commmi>+
curl as a specific disease, but as an accidental debility to
of those plants in which it occurs; that we are not,ihe
therefore, to seek for a cure or preventive in a change^'1!
of seed alone, as many have all along done, but m
complete attention to all that experience shows to be
necessary to an accurate culture, and to their perfect
growth. In this way alone, he thinks, there is reason to
expect that this very useful article of human food may be
cultivated with the same success as before its dreadful
enemy the curl made-such havock in our crops, as of
late years it certainly has done. He describes the disease
as occurring, in Mid Lothian, most frequently from the
following causes: 1st, From planting potatoes on soils al¬
together unfit for them. Being unable to penmate a stiff
soil, potatoes require a light, perviow, or open mould.
For a long period after potatoes first appeared in the
country, this circumstance was carefully attended to.
They were planted entirely with the spade, in the light¬
est spots upon every farm. Hence, the plants rose vigo¬
rous, and no curl was seen; but on farmers wishing°to
extend the culture of potatoes, they were tempted to
plant them on every soil, without regard to its nature,
or tendency to produce this crop. 2dly, Imperfect
culture is described as a frequent cause of curling. A
crop of potatoes is commonly strong, abundant, and
free from curl, in proportion to the previous culture
given to the soil, and the care taken to keep it clean
after they are planted. Hence, it frequently happens,
that while a farmer who cultivates this root in a negli¬
gent ,
o o r
Diseases <*{
Wants.
cn
A G R I C U
of gent manner, and upon a great scale, by means of the
plough, finds his crop deficient in consequence of
t his disease, his cottars and servants, to whose use he
allots small portions of potato ground, which they
cultivate with the spade, obtain crops free from curl,
and often double in quantity to his, in proportion to
the extent of ground which they occupy. 3dly, Small
roots, or too small a portion cut off along with the eye
that is to serve for seed, appears to be a cause of curl.
In the case of grain, it seldom happens, unless in very
fine seasons, that small seed produces a large crop -, and
it is thought that something similar may occur in the
case of potatoes. As the young plant must always de¬
rive its earliest nourishment from the root, out ol which
it springs, before it is capable of seeking its food in the
surrounding soil, those plants, whose early growth is
best supported and fostered, must be expected to reach
the greatest perfection. To subject these ideas to the test
of experiment, 64 sets were planted 5 16 of which were
full grown potatoes, 16 from small roots, in which no
curl appeared when in the field, 16 from roots raised
from the seeds two years before, and 16 from roots of
plants strongly curled. They were all planted in the
same manner in a light soil, in parallel furrow's, with
a moderate quantity of dung, and covered to the depth
of three inches. Of those taken from large potatoes,
none were curled, and the plants were strong and
healthy. Some good plants appeared in each of the other
rows, but nearly a half of the whole were curled. The
proportion of curled plants w7as rather greatest in those
raised from the seed. 4thly, Sets taken from roots
that have sprouted early, and from which the germs
have been rubbed, are said never to fail to produce
curl. 5thly, Too much, as well as too little dung,
appears to have an influence in producing curl ; the
first probably by corrupting the germ of the young
plant, the latter* by not being sufficient to produce vi¬
gorous plants. Hence, attention ought to be paid to
the regular spreading of dung, which ought not to be
thrown about in a careless and slovenly manner, which
allows some plants to have none, while others are co¬
vered with it to the depth of several inches. 6thly, Too
deep, as well as too shallow' planting, gives rise to the
curl. To ascertain the proper depth, 12 were planted
at 18 inches deep the same number at the depth of
16 inches, and of 14, 12, 10, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, and
2 inches j and 12 were so lightly covered, that they
were not, perhaps, at the depth ol one inch. The
sets were all from large roots, of the same crop, cut as
nearly as possible of the same size. I hey were all
planted at the same time, in the first week ol April, in
a light dry soil, and they all got the same quantity of
dung. The plants at the depth ot 1 and 2 inches ap¬
peared first; but they were weak, and some of them
curled. Those at 3, 4, and 5 inches, were all strong,
and free from curl. At 6 and 7 inches, they W'ere also
healthy, and free from curl, but they were three weeks
later in getting above the ground than those that were
thinly covered, and the plants were neither so strong,
nor the roots so large. Those planted at the depth of
8 inches rose still later, and were all weak.—Nine out
of the 12 were curled. Of those planted at 10 inches
deep, only four appeared and they were so weak,
that they soon withered and died. Of those deeper
planted, none ever appeared. On digging them up at
L T U R E. Theor
the end of two months, those at 16 and 18 inches deep j)jSC!ise
were found unchanged ; while some of those at the riauj'J
depth of 12 and 14 inches, had put forth some feeble'—v--
germs not exceeding the length of an inch. Those
planted at 3 and 4 inches were evidently the strongest
during the whole season, and their roots largest. Hence,
to procure an early, abundant, and healthy crop, 3
inches appears to be the best depth for planting pota¬
toes. ythly, Whatever injures the new- sets or the germs
afterwards may produce curl : such as the trampling of
horses feet at the time of planting ; their being par¬
tially covered with stones or hard clods of earth ; deep
harrowing, when the young shoots are advancing j and
grubs, snails, or insects attacking the germs at first, or
the stems afterwards. Hence, 8thly, The curl was pro¬
duced to an uncommon degree upon a field of stiff land,
by passing a roller over it, about a fortnight after plant¬
ing. 9tbly, The state of the weather when the crop
is young may produce the curl. Rain alone will not
do so, if it be not allowed to lodge 5 but a long con¬
tinuance of dry weather, especially with cold winds,
when the shoots first appear, is apt to produce this
disease, and also hoar-frosts in this early state of the
crop. Hence, it is thought that the three first weeks
of April answer best for planting potatoes in the south
of Scotland and north of England, as they do not, in
that case, appear till the middle or end of May. From
all these remarks it is concluded, that though with the
best management the curl can never be completely ba¬
nished from our fields, yet with due attention to the
leading points above mentioned, it may be prevented
from being attended with any serious mischief.
As no information upon this interesting subject
ought to be overlooked, we think it necessary to state,
that the following plan for preventing the curl in po¬
tatoes has very recently been laid before the public,
by an anonymous correspondent of the publishers of
the Farmer’s Magazine, who asserts, that lie has adopt¬
ed it with complete success. It consists of using for
seed what are called potato beajis. These beans are a
dark brown excrescence, larger than a horse bean,
which grows near the ground, on the haulm or shavv,
generally, it is supposed, where it has been broken or
wounded. They are shaped like potatoes, and have a
number of eyes, from one of which grow two small
leaves. It is said, that eight or ten years ago, several
of these potato beans were planted merely to try if
they would grow, and that they produced a great num¬
ber of common sized potatoes, but of a bad quality.
These potatoes, however, being cut and planted next
year, produced potatoes of an excellent quality, and ia
great plenty'. Since that time a number of beans have
always been planted sufficient to produce enough of
potatoes for next year’s seed. They are planted at the
same distance, and treated in every respect in the
same manner with common sets •, and their produce i*
equally plentiful. No other change of seed has ever
been necessary.
re?
Mow* ^
ilitital
Sect. VIII. Of the Obstacles to Agricultural Im¬
provement.
Before proceeding to the practical part of the sub-
ject, it may be proper to take notice of some ol the^^jt,
moral and political circumstances which resist the pro-jmpn>*
gressmeHk
R eory. A G R I C
(jtacles gress ef the art of agriculture, and which ought not to
?ricu,-be overlooked by persons engaged, or who have an in-
l11,0, tention to engage in it.
* One ol the first and most obvious obstacles to the
improvement of this or of any other art, consists of the
ignoiance of its practitioners, or of its being carried on
by persons ol an illiterate and unintelligent character,
who are unable to take a comprehensive view of the
piinciples of their profession, or who have not sufficient
curiosity to inquire after the best modes of practice, or
understanding to discern the value of any new prac¬
tices that are explained to them. It ought never to
be forgotten, that the art of the husbandman is an in¬
tricate and extensive one, and that one of the chief
chcumstances which has hitherto prevented its im¬
provement has arisen, as already mentioned, from the
secluded situation of persons engaged in it. They are
scattered over the face of the country, instead of being
collected together like other artists in towns, so as to
be enabled to derive aid from each other’s experience,
iortunately this difficulty is passing away, in conse¬
quence of the diffusion of agricultural knowledge, by
means of the great number of publications upon that
subject which are gradually introducing themselves in¬
ti) the remotest corners of the country. Persons re¬
ceiving a liberal education, particularly at the univer¬
sity of Edinburgh, have now also an easier opportuni¬
ty than formerly of acquiring a knowledge of the prin¬
ciples of this art, in consequence of the establishment
of a professorship of agriculture, which has been en¬
dowed by a private gentleman, Mr Pulteney. Even
with all these advantages, however, aided as they are
by the exertions of the Board of Agriculture, it can
never be expected that this art can reach its ultimate
degree of perfection, unless a considerable number of
the persons engaged in it are men of intelligent cha¬
racters and good education, who will call in" the im¬
provements which are making in other sciences, as well
as in this art, in distant countries, to the assistance of
their personal experience.
. second obstacle to agricultural improvement con¬
sists of the poverty of the husbandman, or of his want
of capital, to enable him fully and completely to la-
hour the soil, and provide materials for its ameliora¬
tion. Complaints have often been made, with little
reason, of the obstinacy of farmers, and of the tena¬
cious manner in which they adhere to old practices,
though demonstrated to be improper : But a poor man
cannot afford to make experiments, or to hazard the
loss of a crop for the chance of obtaining a more va¬
luable one by some untried practice. In "consequence
of want of capital, large portions of territory remain in
some parts of the country in a state of nature, and con¬
sequently unproductive, both to the occupier and to
the proprietor. Both landlords and tenants, therefore,
ought to know, that a man who engages in agriculture
without a sufficient capital takes up a bad trade, in
which something may be lost by both parties by the de¬
terioration both of the soil and of the stock upon it, but
from which neither the public nor themselves can derive
profit.
. A third obstacle to agricultural improvement some-
tnne^ames from the possessor of the soil not having a
sufficient interest in it. In barbarous ■ nations, lands
Vol. I. Part I. a.
u L T U .R E.
P P ), tloul;anyintlividualmemberhavinganex-toAa[ricui-
clusive right to a particuJar spot. In such cases the lur0-
\ orst kind of agriculture must always prevail, for the 'r~~'
:re:rT^ rUb,-ic afrHirS are always worse managed
an the affairs of private persons, who find their indus-
tiy stimulated not merely by a sense of duty, but by the
fluence of avarice, and of all the other selfish passions.
Cons'deralde portions of territory in England still re¬
am withheld from the exertions of an improving agri¬
culture by this state of property. But, even where the
inteiest which the cultivator has in the soil is exclusive,
it may still be too limited. Where a landlord is pre¬
vented by an entail, or other family settlement, or by
narrow prejudices and a short-sighted policy, from
granting leases of a proper endurance, it is never likely
that the soil can be well cultivated. Every outgoing
fai mer will endeavour, during the last years of his lease,
to do as little for the land as possible, and to take from
it all that he can possibly obtain. The first years of
every new lease will therefore be spent by every new
tarmer in repairing the damage done bv bis predecessor,
bcarcely however, has he accomplished this object,
when he himself, if his lease be short, must set about
procuring indemnity for the money he has laid out in
ameliorating the soil, by scourging it in his turn, or bv
taking from it as heavy crops as possible, and by be¬
stowing upon it little or no expence.
Under the same head of a want of proper interest in
tlieso11, may be enumerated the payment of tithes, of
which in England every farmer so grievously complains*
Whatever money the husbandman may there lay out
in improvements, is not expended for himself: as the
proprietor of the tithes is entitled to draw a share of
the whole additional increase, and thus becomes a part¬
ner m the profits of the enterprise, without running any
risk of loss by its failure. The odium of this tax, is
said to induce great numbers of husbandmen to conti¬
nue their lands in pasturage, to the no small detriment
of the public, from the comparative unproductiveness
of human food, which attends that mode of occupying
the soil. Fortunately, in Scotland this evil hath been
removed by the wisdom of our forefathers, as every
landlord possesses the privilege of obtaining his tithes
to be fixed at a settled rate of payment for ever; and,
in many cases, of having his lands altogether disbur¬
dened, upon payment of a very moderate price.
1 he progress of the art of agriculture in Europe
was long retarded by the want of respectability which
attended it, when engaged in as a profession or trade
from which profit was to be derived. In the feudal
times, the military profession was the only employment
in which a layman of liberal education could re¬
spectably engage. Agriculture, the only art which is
absolutely necessary to the existence of man, was re¬
garded with contempt, and left in the hands of the
meanest of the people. Even the most ordinary me¬
chanics were considered as superior to persons whose
employment it was; because the mechanic, residing in
a town, and usually under the protection of the prince,
was safe from the dominion and the insults of the petty
chieftains that ruled in every part of the open country.
I he state of affairs is nowgreatly altered in this respect:
More enlightened views, and a better state of society,
U u •
s38 AGRICULTURE. Practic
Obstacles have restored to the profession of agriculture the re-
to Aiiiicul- spectability which naturally belongs to it. It must be
tlire- acknowledged, however, that the recent improvements
which have taken place in the art, have contributed not a
little to this change in the sentiments of mankind con¬
cerning the persons occupied in it. It is now found,
that a man may become rich by agriculture, and that
there are few better ways in which a prudent and in¬
dustrious man can lay out a moderate capital. In a
commercial age, the path that leads to wealth is al¬
ways respected and accounted honourable, and accord¬
ingly it is now not unusual for the sons of British noble¬
men and gentlemen, of extensive fortunes, to become
apprentices to fax-mers.
The last obstacle to agricultural improvements, of
■ which we shall take notice, arises in some countries
from the want of judicious legislation, or proper arrange-
, ments made by the public in its favour. The produce
of the art of the husbandman, and the manures of which
his lands have occasion, are all bulky commodities,
which cannot be transported without labour and ex- obstack
pence. Unless care is taken, therefore, to prepare and toAgricil
maintain good i-oads throughout the countx-y, the pro- ture. | j
fits of agriculture must always be subjected to such de- ^ k
ductions as will greatly retard its prosperity. In the
same manner, if the state, fi’om any narrow policy,
shall prevent the husbandman from bringing his goods ^
to the best market, by exportation or otherwise, it is it
impossible that his art can flourish. In former times,
nations were afraid to permit the exportation of grain,
even in seasons of plenty, lest they should be left with¬
out food, not considering that the surest mode of pro¬
ducing abundance of any commodity consists in offer¬
ing, at all times, a good price for it. This error is
now rectified in most nations j and at all events, in
the present state of affairs, the British husbandman
has no x’eason to complain, as the grain reared in this
country is, even in the best seasons, understood to be
inadequate to afford subsistence to its inhabitants.
PRACTICE OF AGRICULTURE.
rearing and management of animals. To these we
shall add, as connected with all the branches of agri¬
culture, a short descx-iption of the most useful modes
of fencing and enclosing lands for cattle and other
objects of husbandry. ;
ii
PART I. OF THE CULTIVATION OF VEGETABLE FOOD.
pi-actice of agriculture natui-ally divides itself
;o three parts: ist, The cultivation of vege¬
table food for men and animals j 2dly, The cultiva¬
tion of vegetables, such as flax and hemp, which are
mox'e properly articles of commerce j and, 3t^y>
Division of
the subject.
in
Cultivation consider this branch of the subject under
ofvegeta- four divisions. In the first we shall present to the
bles divided reader a statement of the most useful instruments of
into four agriculture : 2dly, We shall state the mode of pre-
uranchcs. par]ng jani| for cropping, by removing the physical
obstructions to agriculture, and reducing the soil into
a px-oper state : 3dly, We shall explain the culture of
particular plants, and the pi’actices of husbandry con¬
nected with it; and, lastly, We shall state the pi’inci-
ples and oporations of the horsehoeing or drill hus¬
bandry.
Sect. I. Instruments of Husbandry.
The instruments employed in agi’iculture are vari¬
ous j as the plough, the harrow, the roller, &c. which
are again diversified by various constructions adapted
to particular uses.
i. Of Ploughs.
The plough The plough is a machine for turning up the soil by
the action of cattle, contrived to save the time, labour,
and expence, which, without this instrument, must
have been employed in digging the ground, and fitting
it to receive all sorts of seed.
Amidst all the vaiueties which can occur in the man¬
ner of ploughing the ground, arising from difference of
soil, local habits, and other causes, there is still a same¬
ness in the task, which gives a certain uniformity to the
ii j chief parts of the instrument, and should therefore fur-
an instru- n;sjj principles for its construction. There is not, per-
ment of the |iapS^ any invention of man that more highly merits our
value,CS utmost endeavours to bring it to perfection j but it has
been too much neglected by those persons who study
machines, and has been considered as a rude tool, un¬
worthy of their attention. Any thing appears to them
sufficient for the clumsy task of turning up the ground;
and they cannot imagine that there can be any nicety
in a business which is successfully performed by the ig¬
norant peasant. Others acknowledge the value of the
machine, and the difficulty of the subject; but they
think that difficulty insuperable, because the operation
is so complicated, and the resistances to be overcome
so uncertain, or so little understood, that we cannot
discover any unequivocal principle, and must look for
improvement only from experience or chance. I
But these opinions ai-e ill founded. The difficulty
is indeed great, and it is neither from the ignoi’ant
farmer nor the rude artist that we can expect improve¬
ment. It inquires the serious consideration of the
most accomplished mechanician ; but fi'om him we may
expect improvement. We have many data ; we know 114
pretty distinctly what preparation will fit the ground and may
for being the proper receptacle for the seed, and for1®?10'*
supporting and nourishing the plants ; and though it
is, perhaps, impossible to bring it into this state by
the operation of any instrument of the plough kind,
we know that some ploughs prodigiously excel others
in reducing the stiff ground to that uniform crumbling
state in which it can be left by the spade. The im¬
perfections of their performance, or what yet remains
to be done to bring the ground into this state, is di¬
rectly understood. It seems, then, a determinate pro¬
blem (to use the language of mathematicians), because
the operation depends on the invariable laws of mechani¬
cal nature.
It
j rt I.
, uments It will therefore be very proper, under this article,
I of to ascertain, if possible, what a plough in general ought
pandry.to be, by describing distinctly its task. This will sure-
ly point out a general form, the chief features of which
must be found under every variety that can arise from
,5 particular circumstances.
task The plough performs its task, not by digging, but
Irforms. by being pulled along. We do not aim at immediate¬
ly reducing the ground to that friable and uniform
state into which we can bring it by the spade j but we
wish to bring it into such a state that the ordinary ope¬
rations of the season will complete the task.
lor this purpose, a slice or sod must be cut off from
the firm land. I his must be shoved to one side, that
the plough and the ploughman may proceed in their
labour 5 and the sod must be turned over, so that the
grass and stubble may be buried and rot, and that
fresh soil may be brought to the surface ; and all must
be left in such a loose and open condition, that it may
quickly crumble down by the influence of the weather,
without baking into lumps, or retaining water. The
first office is performed by the coulter, which makes a
perpendicular cut in the ground. The point of the
sock follows this, and its edge gets under the sod, and
lifts it up. While lifting it up, it also heels it over,
away from the firm land. The mouldboard comes last,
and pushes it aside, and gradually turns it over as far
as is required.
of Ti,e general form of the body of a plough is that
lough. of » wedge, or very blunt chissel, AFEDBC, (fig. j.),
VI. having the lower corner D of its edge considerably
more advanced than the upper corner B j the edge
BD and the whole back AFDB is the same perpen¬
dicular plane } the bottom IDB approaches to a tri¬
angular form, acute at D, and square at F j the sur¬
face BCED is of a complicated shape, generally hol¬
low, because the angle ABC is always greater than
FEE this consequence will be easily seen by the ma¬
thematician. The back is usually called the land side
by the ploughman, and the base FEE is called the
sole, and FE the heel, and BCEE the mould-
board. Lastly, The angle AFE is generally square,
or a right angle, so that the sole has level both as to
1 length and breadth.
itages By comparing this form with attention, the reader
Will perceive that if this wedge is pulled or pushed
along in the direction FE, keeping the edge BE al¬
ways in the perpendicular cut which has been previ¬
ously made by the coulter, the point E will both raise
the earth and shove it to one side and twist it over ;
and, when the point has advanced from F to E, the
sod, which formerly rested on the triangle EFE, will
be forced up along the surface BCEE, the line EF
rising into the position Ef, and the line EF into the
position Ej£—Had the bottom of this furrow been co¬
vered with a bit of cloth, this cloth would be lying
on the mouldboard, in the position E /E : the slice,
thus deranged from its former situation, will have a
shape something like that represented in fig. 2.
In as much as the wedge raises the earth, the earth
presses down the wedge ; and as the wedge pushes the
earth to the right hand, the earth presses the wedge
to the left j and in this manner the plough is strongly
pressed, both to the bottom of the furrow by its sole,
and also to the firm land by its back or land side. In
agriculture.
short, it is strongly squeezed into the angle formed
R ^ne (%• I0 by the perpendicular plane
a 6 131' and the horizontal plane FEE ; and in this
manner the furrow becomes a firm groove, directing
t ic motion of the plough, and giving it a resisting sup-
port, by which it can perform all parts of its" task.
e eg our readers to keep this circumstance con¬
stantly m mind. It evidently suggests a fundamental
maxim in the construction, namely, to make the land
side of the plough an exact plane, and to make the
sole, if not plane, at least straight from point to heel.
Any projection would tear up the supporting planes, de-
stroy the directing groove, and expend force in doinu
mischief. b
. This wedge is seldom made of one piece. To give
it the necessary width for removing the earth would re¬
quire a huge block of timber. It is therefore usually
framed of several pieces, which we shall only mention
m order to have the language of the art. Fig. 3. re¬
presents the land side of a plough, such as are made by
James Small at Rosebank, near Ford, Mid Lothian,
ihe base of it, CM, is a piece of hard wood, pointed
before at C to receive a hollow shoeing of iron CO,
called the sock, and tapering a little towards the*
hinder end, M, called the HEEL. This piece is called
the head of the plough. Into its fore part, just be¬
hind the sock, is mortised a sloping post, AL, called
the sheath, the front of which is worked sharp, form¬
ing the edge of the wedge. Nearer the heel there is
mortised another piece, PQ, sloping far back, called
the stilt, serving for a handle to the ploughman.
The upper end of the sheath is mortised into the long
beam RH, which projects forward, almost horizon¬
tally, and is mortised behind into the stilt. To the
fore end of the beam are the cattle attached. The
whole of this side of the wedge is fashioned into one
plain surface, and the intervals between the pieces are
filled up with boards, and commonly covered with iron
plates. The coulter, WFE, is firmly fixed by its
shank, W, into the beam, rakes forward at an angle
of 430 with the horizon, and has its point E about six
inches before the point of the sock. It is brought into
the same vertical plane with the land side of the plough,
by giving it a knee outward immediately below the
beam, and then kneeing it again downward. It is fur¬
ther supported on this side by an iron stay FH, which
turns on a pin at F, passes through an eye-bolt I on the
side of the beam, and has a nut screwed on it immedi¬
ately above. When screwed to its proper slope, it is
firmly wedged behind and before the shank.—Fig. 3.
N° 2. represents the same plough viewed from above.
ST is the right-hand or small stilt fixed to the inside of
the mouldboard LV.
Fig. 4. represents the bottom of the wedge. CM
is the head, covered at the point by the sock. Just
behind the sock there is mortised into the side of the
head a smaller piece EE, called the wrest, making
an angle of 16° with the land side of the head, and its
outside edge is in the same straight line with the side
of the sock. From the point to the heel of the head
is about 33 inches, and the extreme breadth of the
heel is about nine. The side of the wedge, called the
furrow side, is formed by the mouldboard, which is
either made of a block or plank of wood, or of a thick
iron plate.
The
339
Instruments
of
Husbandry.
11S
A funda¬
mental
maxim in
the con¬
struction of
a plough.
119
The several
parts of the
plough.
U U 2
34^
i*»irumeats
of
Muiibaiidry.
Soik:-'
m
Pfoper
breadth of
itke sole.
12*
li ihould
leTel.
The sock drawn in this figure is called a spear
sock, and is chiefly used in coarse or stony ground,
which requires great force to break it up. Another
form of the sock is represented in the next figure 4.
N° 2. This is called a feather sock, and has a
cutting edge CF on its furrow side, extending back
about ten inches, and to the right hand or furrow side
about six. The use of this is to cut the sod below, and
detach it from the ground, as the coulter detaches it
from the unploughed land. This is of great use when
the ground is bound together by knotted roots, but it
is evident that it cannot be used to advantage in very
stony ground. It may reasonably be asked, why the
feather is not much broader, so as to cut the whole
breadth of the furrow ? This is sometimes done. But
we must recollect that the sod is not only to be pushed
aside, but also to be turned over. If it were complete¬
ly detached by the feather, and chanced at any time to
break on the back of the sock, it would only be pushed
aside ; but by leaving a little of the sod uncut, it is held
fast below while it is shoved aside above, which cannot
fail to twist it round. As the wrest advances, it easily
destroys the remaining connection, which in general is
very slight and crumbling.
The breadth of the sole at the heel determines the
width of the furrow. Nine inches will give enough
of room for a horse or man to walk in. A greater
breadth is of no use, and it expends force in pushing
the earth aside. It is a mistake to suppose that a hroad
sole gives more room for the turned slice to stand on j
for whatever is the breadth of the furrow, the successive
slices will be left at their former distances, because each
is shoved aside at the same distance. When the breadth
of a slice exceeds its depth, and it is turned on its side,
it will now stand on a narrow base, but higher than
before, and therefore will stand looser, which the far¬
mers desire. On the other hand, when the depth con¬
siderably exceeds the breadth, the sods, now turned
on their sides, must be squeezed home to the ploughed
land, which breaks them and tosses them up, making
rough work. In wet clay soil, this is also apt to knead
them together. But all this is workmanship, and has
no dependence on the width of the sole behind.
We have already said that the sole is generally level
from right to left at the heel. This was not the case
formerly, but the wrest was considerably raised behind.
It resulted from this form, that the furrow was always
shallower on the right side, or there was left a low ridge
of unstirred earth between the furrows. This circum¬
stance alone was a bad practice ; for one great aim of
ploughing is the renewal of the superficial soil. In this
way of ribbing the furrows, the sod tumbles over as
soon as it is pushed to the top of the rib on the right
of the ri/t made by the plough 5 the firmest parts of it
fall undermost, and the rest crumbles above it, making
the work appear neat; whereas it is extremely un¬
equal, and what most needs the influence of the wea¬
ther to crumble it down is sheltered from it. Add to
these circumstances, that the hollow is a receptacle for
water,, with a surface which can retain it, having been
AGRICULTURE. Practice
consolidated by the pressure of the plough. For all Inga,1#1ID
these reasons, therefore, it seems advisable to form the of
furrow with a flat or level bottom, and therefore to
keep the heel of the wrest as low as the heel of the ^
head. For the same reason it is proper to hold the
plough with the land side perpendicular, and not to
heel it over to that side, as is frequently done, produ¬
cing the same ribbed furrow as an ill-formed sole.
There is great variety of opinions about the length Length 0
of the plough. If considered merely as a pointed in-the plouj)
strument, or even as a cutting instrument acting ob¬
liquely on a given length of sod, there can be no doubt
but that it will be more powerful as it is longer : that
is, it will require less force to pull it through the ground.
But it must also shove the earth aside, and if we double
its length we cause it to act on twice as much earth at
once ; for when the plough has entered as far as the
heel, the whole furrow side is acting together in push¬
ing the earth to the side. Now it is found, that the
force necessary for pushing a mass of earth horizontally
along the rough ground is nearly equal to its weight.
It would seem, therefore, that nothing is to be gained
by making the base of the plough of a great length,
except a greater facility in making the first penetration,
and this is chiefly performed by the coulter and sock j
and a great length renders the plough heavy and cum¬
bersome j and, by causing it to act long on the sod,
tends to knead and cake it.
Nothing very precise can be offered on this subject.
Some sensible advantage is derived by making the
plough taper, especially forward, where it acts as a bo¬
ring and cutting instrument; and for this purpose it is
convenient to give the coulter a slope of 45 degrees.
(This has also the advantage of throwing up the stones Slope of
and roots, which it would otherwise drive before
through the firm ground.) And for the same reason
the edge of the feather has a great slope, it being 10
inches long and only six inches broad. But if we pur¬
sue this advantage too far, we expose ourselves to ano¬
ther risk. It is sometimes necessary to heel over the
plough to the right, in order to get over some obstruc¬
tion. In doing this, the coulter is necessarily raised
for a moment, and the slanting cut now made by the
feather becomes the directing groove for tiie plough.
When the feather has a very long slope, this groove
has force enough to guide the whole plough; and it
is almost impossible for the ploughman to prevent k
from running out of the ground to the land side (a).
The feather, therefore, should not exceed ten or twelve
inches in length.
But to return to the length of the plough, from
which this observation has diverted us a little, we must
add, that a- long plough has a great advantage in the
steadiness of its motion, having a much more extensive
support both on the land side and below, and being
therefore less affected by its inequalities. Accordingly,
they are now made considerably longer than formeplv j
and 33 inches has been assumed as a proportion to 9
inches in breadth, in conformity to the most approved
ploughs now in use.
We
(a) This is often feit with the excellent plough described by Mr Arbuthnot of Surry, in the Transactions of
the Society for the Encouragement of Arts, &c. London,
I rt I.
A G E I
j. Fnmcnt* We come now to treat of the mouldboard. .,
of is the most delicate part of the plough, and is to be
\ b"tui‘7;see11 in the gr«atest variety in the works of different
P artists, each of whom has a nostrum of great value in
T mould-own opinion. It is here indeed that the chief re-
d. sistances are exerted and must be overcome j and a judi¬
cious form of this part of the plough may diminish them
considerably, while it performs the work in the best
manner. Without pretending to say that the different
resistances are susceptible of an accurate determination,
we can still draw sufficient information from palpable
rules of mechanics to direct us to what would be nearly
the best possible form for a mouldboard. The task to
be performed is to raise, push aside, and turn over to a
certain degree, a slice already cut off from the firm
ground. As we cannot provide for every inequality of
the cohesion or tenacity of the earth, our safest way is
to consider it as uniform : the weight of it is always so.
As we cannot provide for every proportion between the
tenacity and the weight, we must take an average or
medium proportion which is not far from that of equa¬
lity. Conceiving the slice at first as only tenacious, and
without weight, it is an easy problem to determine the
form which shall give it the intended twist and remo¬
val with the smallest force. In like manner we can
proceed with a slice that has weight without tenacity.
It is equally easy to combine both in any proportion j
and it is easiest of all to make this combination on the
supposition of equality of weight and cohesion. Sup¬
posing the slice like a brick, we know that it requires
the greatest force to begin to raise it on one edge, and
that the strain becomes less as it rises, till its centre of
gravity is perpendicularly above the supporting angle.
It requires no force to raise it further j for on pushing
it beyond this position, it would fall over of itself, un¬
less withheld by the tenacity of what is not yet raised.
But on considering the form or plan of the sock, we
find that while the weight of the sod resists most strong¬
ly, there is less of it in this situation actually rising,
and this nearly in the same proportion with the labour
of raising it; and we see that after the sod has attain¬
ed that position in which it is ready to fall over, it has
reached the wider part of the wrest, and is now pushed
aside, which requires nearly the same force as to raise
it: and this continues to the end of the operation.
When we take all these circumstances into considera¬
tion, it appears probable that the compound resistance
does not change much from first to last. If this be
really the case, it is an undoubted maxim that the
whole operation should proceed equably : if it does not,
there must be some part of the sod that makes a resist¬
ance greater than the medium j and as the resistances
in all this class of motions increase nearly as the squares
ol the velocities with which they are overcome, it is
demonstrable that we shall lose power if we render
them unequal.
Hence we deduce this maxim, That as the plough ad¬
vances through equal spaces, the twist and the lateral
sliding of the sod should increase by equal degrees. And
this determines a priori the form of the mouldboard.
Xhis principle occurred to Mr James Small, a plough-
maker in Berwickshire, and he published a treatise on
the subject in 1784. He has given several methods
lor constructing mouldboards, which he supposes are
mi conformity to his principle 5 but being merely a
6
8 b?
C U L T u B E. 34l
7 Ins country artist, and unacquainted with science, his rules
do not produce mouldboards having this property of of
equable operation, although they do not deviate far Hosbandpr.
from it. His, book is a very useful and instructive per-   
lormance, and level to the capacity of those for whom
it is intended j and we have here availed ourselves of
the author’s information on many points.
The high character which Small’s ploughs have
maintained for 25 years is a strong argument for the
truth of the maxim. Wre shall therefore give such in¬
structions as will enable any intelligent workman to
construct such a mouldboard without any risk of fail¬
ure; and if future theory or experience should disco¬
ver any error in the principles from which this maxim
is deduced, by showing that either the weight, the te¬
nacity, or the lateral resistance, is exerted according to
a difterent law from what has been assumed, the direc¬
tions to be given are of such a nature that they adapt
themselves with precision to these clitmges of principle,
and will still produce a perfect and efficacious plough!
Our readers will readily acknowledge that this is gain-
ing a great point; because at present the instrument is
constructed very much at random, and by a guess of
the eye.
Let us now return to the wedge formerly made use
of for illustrating the action of the plough. Suppose
it placed in a furrow already ploughed, and that the
space before the line FE (fig. 1), which is square from
the line of motion FD, is covered with a piece of cloth
or carpet, and that the point of the wedge enters upon
it at F, and advances to D. It will evidently raise the
cloth, which will now cover the side of the wedge,
forming the triangle/DE. The line AD is what for¬
merly lay in the angle along the line FT), and/E for¬
merly lay on FE. It is this line FE therefore, that
we are to raise, shove aside, and twist round, by equal
degrees, while the plough advances through equal
spaces.
Now, if the length DF of the plough-wedge, reck¬
oned from the point of the sock to the heel, be 33
inches, and the breadth FE behind be nine inches, the
angle DEF or DE/" will be nearly 74°- The construc¬
tion of the furrow side of the plough is therefore redu¬
ced to this very simple problem, “ To make the angle
DFjA turn equably round the axis DE, while the angu¬
lar point L advances equably from D to E.”
This will be done by means of the followino- veryrw!.-7-
simple tool or instrument. Let IHFK (fig. 5?) be a of acEi!'' *
piece of hard wood, such as oak, a foot long, three strument
inches broad, and an inch thick. Plant on this ano-70*-111'* Pu-"
ther piece BHFC of the same breadth, four inches long,r#s£"
and half an inch thick. This will leave beyond it a fiat
8 inches long. We shall call this the stock of the in¬
strument. Let ABC be a piece of clean oak, half an
inch thick, 20 inches long, and three inches broad at the
end BC. Let this be fashioned like the style of a sun¬
dial, having its angle ABC 740. Let it have a part BCFi
square, to the extent of four inches from C, and the
rest EA worked into the form of a straight slender rod.
Let EF G be a semicircle of clean plane tree or of me¬
tal, four inches radius 1 fasten this by small screws to.
the square part of the stile CE, so that its centre may
be at C. Let this semicircle be divided into 180 de¬
grees, and numbered from G along the arch GFF2, so
that 0° may be at G, and 1800 at E, Let this stije
aiiii;
342
Instruments anil semicircle turn round the line BC by means of
of small hinges. This instrument may be called the
Husbandry. j^Quldboard gage, or protractor. When the stile is
• v—— folded down on the stock BIK, the point G will be
at F ; and when it is raised up to any angle, the de¬
grees will be pointed out on the semicircle by the
straight edge CF.
Nothing can be more obvious than the manner of
employing this instrument once we have determined
the most proper position for the sod when the work is
completed. Now it seems to be the opinion of the
most intelligent farmers, that the best position of the
ia$ sod is that represented in fig. 6.
Proper po- Fig. 6. represents a section of the ground and the
sitiou of Working parts of the plough, as viewed by a person
the sod. stan(ung straight before it. ABDC is the unploughed
ground, and WB the coulter, kneed in Small’s manner.
FGKB is the section of the plough (or rather of the
whole space through which the plough has passed, for
no part of the plough has this section). HOFE is the
section of a slice, pushed aside and turned over, so as to
lean on the next. HE is that side of the slice which
formerly lay on KB. EF is the side cut off by the
coulter j and FO is the upper or grassy side. The low¬
er corners are supposed to be a little bruised inwards,
as must generally happen.
The sod is pushed 9 inches to the right hand, and it
leans with its grassy side on the preceding furrow, in an
angle of about 50 degrees. In this position the grass
is turned dowyn so as to rot 5 and there is a hollow lelt
below to allow the rain water to run freely off, and to
receive the earth as it crumbles down by the weather:
and if the harrow is dragged across these ridges, it dis¬
tributes along the surface the mould which was former¬
ly at the bottom. The sod has got a twist of 130 de¬
grees $ but it is evident, that after it has been turned
90 degrees, or even a little before this, it is ready to
fall over of itself. It is sufficient therefore that it be
> turned 90 degrees when the heel of the wrest has reach¬
ed it, and the remainder of the twist is given to it by
the wing or flap of the mouldboard. This, then, dic¬
tates to us the manner of applying the instrument.
Divide the edge DE (fig. 7.) of the wrest, or of a
lath nailed on it, into 90 equal parts, and continue the
divisions backwards to G in the same line to 130. Num¬
ber the divisions backwards from the point of the sock}
then place the protractor on the edge of the wrest, with
the point B of fig. 5. at the 90th division (fig. 7.) j that
is, just at the heel, with the stock under the wrest, and
the stile raised to 90°, and press it home to the joint,
so that the stock may be square to the edge, and then
x, the stile will be in the position suiting that part of the
How to ] mouldboard. In like manner slide the stock forward
form the] to the 80th division, and lower the stile to 8o°, and it
mould- have the position that suits that part of the mould-
board. board. In the same way slide it forward to 70,60, 50,
&c. and lower the stile to 70°, 6o°, 50°, &c. and we
shall have the position for these several parts of the
mouldboard *, and thus it may be formed to the very
point of the sock, because the straight edge of the wrest
may be continued so far. A block of wood may be
hewed to fit these several positions of the protractor
stile $ and this, when placed with its straight edge on
the outer line of the wrest, and cut away behind in the
land side plane, will be the exact shape of the plough-
3
Practice 1
wedge. It would rise up indeed into a tall piece ofinstrm„c]i .
singular shape, gradually tapering down to the point of of J
the sock ; but when cut off parallel to the ground, atH'lstaudr [)
the height of about 12 inches, it will form the mould - L
board, the front or edge of the sheath, and the whole
back of the sock except the feather, which is an extra¬
neous piece. The wing or flap of the mouldboard is
formed in the same manner, by sliding the stock of the
protractor to 100, no, 120, 130, and opening the stile
to ioo°, no0, 1200, 130°. This will extend the top
of the mouldboard to about 22 or 23 inches j but the
lower part of the wing must be cut array, because it
would push the sod too far aside after it has got the
proper twist. The form of this part should be such as
rvould exactly apply itself to a plank set at the heel of
the rvrest, parallel to the land-side of the head, and lean¬
ing outward 40 degrees. This will be very nearly the
case, if it be made a sweep similar to the edge of the
sheath. Fig. 8. is a resemblance of the surface of the
mouldboard ; AD being the edge of the sheath, E the
heel of the wrest, and EBC the wing or flap. When
cut through in a perpendicular direction, the section is
hollow j if cut horizontally it is convex j and if in the
direction CE, making an angle of 740 with ED, it is
straight. If the protractor be set on it at D, and gra¬
dually slidden backwards, the mouldboard will gradu¬
ally open the stile, and the stile will skim its whole sur¬
face without any vacuity between them.
This form is given to the mouldboard on the autho¬
rity of the supposition that the sum of the resistances
arising from weight and tenacity remain pretty con¬
stant in its whole length. This cannot be affirmed with
confidence in any case, and is by no means true in all.
In stiff clay soils the effects of tenacity prevail, and in
light or crumbling soils the weight is the chief resist¬
ance. The advantage of this mode of construction is,
that it can be adapted to any soil. If the difficulty of
cutting and raising the sod is much greater than that
of shoving it aside and turning it over, we have only to
make the rise and twist more gentle towards the point
of the sock, and more rapid as we advance 5 and it is
easy to do this according to any lawr of acceleration that
we please. Thus, instead of dividing the edge of the B
wrest DE (fig. 9.) continued to G into 130 parts,
draw a line Q g perpendicular to it, and draw some
curve line Dg- convex towards DG, and divide this in¬
to equal parts in the points 10, 20, 30, 40, &c.; and
then draw perpendiculars to the wrest edge, cutting it
at 10, 20, 30, 40, &c. and apply the protractor to
these points. It is evident that the divisions of the wrest
line are bigger at D, and grow gradually less towards
G •, and therefore, because each has to* more twist
than the preceding, the twist will be more rapid as it
approaches the end of the mouldboard. This curve
may be chosen so as to produce any law of acceleration.
On the contrary, we produce a retarded or diminished
twist by making the curve concave towards DG, as re¬
presented by the dotted curve.
The mathematical reader will observe, that this con¬
struction aims at regulating the twist round the line ot
the wrest ED. This does not produce precisely the
same regulation round the line FD, which is the line ot
the plough’s motion, and of the sod’s position before it
is ploughed over. The difference, however, is not worth
attending to in a matter so little susceptible of preci¬
sion,
AGRICULTURE.
ft I.
luinentssioil. But the twist round
|ot' jrulated according to any law
agriculture.
imir
tiie line FI) may be re
by this instrument with
343
equal facility. Instead of placing the stock of the
protractor square with the edge of the wrest, it may
he placed square with the land side of the plough.
Io do tnis, draw a line BB (fig- y. No 2.) across
the stock from the point B, making the angle LBC
16°, and put a brass pin at L, making a hole in the
stile that it may not be prevented from the folding
down. Then, in using the instrument, let the points
B and L rest against the edge of the wrest, and pro¬
ceed as directed.
A still greater variety of forms, and accommodation
to particular views, with the same general dependence
on principle, will be procured by giving the rod BA
a motion round B in the plane of the stile, so as to form
a stile of a variable angle.
A tool may even be constructed in which the rod BA
might be a cutting knife: and the whole may be led
along by a screw, while this knife turns round accord¬
ing to any law, and would gradually pare away the
mouldboard to the proper form.
Thus have we reduced the fashioning the operative
part of the plough to a rule which is certain. We do
not mean by this, that a mouldboard made according to
the maxim now given will make the best possible plough ;
but w’e have given a rule by which this part of the
plough can be made unequivocally of a certain quality by
every workman, whatever this quality may be, and this
without being obliged to copy. No description of any
curve mouldboard to be met with in books has this ad¬
vantage ; and we say that this rule is capable of any
systematic variation, either with respect to the width
of furrow, or the quantity or variation of its twist. We
have therefore put it in the power of any intelligent
person to make such gradual and progressive changes as
may serve to bring this most useful of all instruments to
perfection. The angle of the head and wrest, and the
curve for dividing the wrest-line, can always be ex¬
pressed in writing, and the improvements communicat¬
ed to the public at large.
After this description of the working parts of a
plough, and directions for giving it the most effective
form, it will not be improper to consider a little its
mode of action, with the view of attaining a more di¬
stinct conception of what is done by the ploughman and
the cattle, and to direct him in his procedure.
Returning again to the wedge (fig. i.), we see that
it is pressed down at the point I), and as far back along
the mouldboard as its surface continues to look upward,
that is, all the way to the heel of the wrest. Behind
this, the perpendicular sections of the mouldboard over¬
hang, and look downward ; and here, while pressing
down the sod, the plough is pressed upwards. These
two pressures tend to twist the plough round a trans¬
verse line somewhere between the heel and the point.
The plough therefore tends to rise at the heel, and to
run its point deeper into the ground. Upon the whole,
the pressure downwards is much greater than the upward
pressure. It is exerted over a much greater space, and
is greater in most parts of that space. Behind, very
little downward pressure is necessary, the sod beimr
ready to fall down of itself, and only requiring a gentle
touch to lay it in a proper position.
In like manner the plough is pressed backward by
tne resistance made to the coulter and sock, and part of instruments
le resistance made to the sloping side of the mould- of
mara . and it is pressed to the left by the other part of IIusbandr}f.
the pressure on the sock and mouldboard. 1 1 7“ f
All these pressures must be balanced by the joint ac¬
tion of the cattle, the resistance of the bottom, and the re¬
sistance of the firm ground on the left-hand or land-side.
It is the action of the cattle, exerted on that point
to which they are attached, which produces alf these
pressures. It is demonstrated by the principles of me¬
chanics, that this force must not only be equal to the
mean or compound force of these resisting pressures
hut must also be in the opposite direction.
It is further demonstrated, that if a body be dragged
through any resisting substance by a force acting on any
point G, and in any direction whatever GH, and really
moves uniformly in that direction, the force exerted ex¬
actly balances the resistances which it excites, both as
to quantity and direction : And if the body advances
without turning round the point by which it is drag¬
ged, the resistances on one side of this point are in equi-
Jibno with those on the opposite side.
... 4'nc^ ** *s Remonstrated, that when this equi-
h bn urn is obtained, it is indifferent to what point in the
fine GH the force is applied. Therefore, in fig. 2.
N 1. the force acting in the direction HO may either
be applied to the point of the beam H, or to the point
N of the coulter, or to the point O of the sock.
. ^ fien therefore a plough advances steadily, requir¬
ing no effort of the ploughman to direct it, if the line
of draught QM (fig, 10.) be produced backwards to
the point G of the mouldboard, that point is the place
round which all the resistances balance each other.
This point may be called the centre of resistance and
the centre of action. 4
It would be of importance to determine this point
by principle ; but this can hardly be done with preci¬
sion even in a plough of a known form j and it is im¬
possible to do it in general for all ploughs, because it
xs different in each. It even varies in any plough by
every variation of the proportion between the weight
and the cohesion of the sod. We see how it can be ^
found experimentally in any given uniform sod, viz.
by producing backwards the line of draught. Then,
if the draught rope, instead of being fixed to the muzzle
of the beam, were fixed to this point, and if it were
pulled in the same direction, the plough would continue
to perform its work without any assistance from the
ploughman, while the sod continued uniform. But
the smallest inequality of sod would derange the plough
so as to make it go entirely out of its path. Should
the resistances between G and D prevail, the plough
would go deeper, which would increase the resistances
on that side where they already exceed, and the plough
would run still deeper. Should the resistances behind
G prevail, the heel would be pressed down, and the
point would rise, which would still farther destroy the
equilibrium, and, producing a greater deviation from
the right path, would quickly throw the plough out of
the ground.
For these reasons we must not think of attaching the
draught to the centre of resistance 5 but must contrive
a point of draught, such as shall restore the plough to
its proper position when it has been driven out of it by
any obstruction.
Tha
34+
iastrumcuts
of
Htisbandry.
AGRICULTURE.
*3*
The point
«f draught.
133
Of the
plough in
f.ciw.
The muzzle or eml of the beam Is a point which will
completely suit our purpose. For suppose that the re¬
sistance on the back of the sock has prevailed, and the
plough MNFD (fig. 10.) has taken the position m nfd
represented by the dotted lines, the draught line GMO
is brought down into the position £• m 0, diverging a
little from GMO, and meeting the mouldboard in a
point g considerably before G. By this means the re¬
sistances on the hinder side of g- are increased, and those
before it are diminished, and the plough quickly re¬
gains its former position.
From these observations it is plain, that whatever is
the situation of the centre of resistance, the point of
draught may be so chosen that the action of the cattle
shall be directly opposed to the resistance of the ground,
and that moreover the plough shall have no tendency
cither to go deeper or to run out. This is the use of
the apparatus at the point of the beam, called the
muzzle, represented at H (fig. 3*)* turns round a
bolt i through the beam, and can be stopped at any
height by another pin k put through the holes in the
arch l m. A figure is given of the muzzle immediately
below, as it appears when looking down on it. The
eye to which the draught rope is hooked is spread out
horizontally, as shown by HK, and has several notches
O in it, to either of which the hook can be applied.
This serves to counteract any occasional tendency which
the plough may have to the right or left.
When the plough goes on Steadily, without any ef¬
fort of the ploughman, it is said to be in trim, and to
swim fair j the pressure before and behind the centre ol
action being in equilibrio with each other. In order
to learn whether a plough will be in this manner under
management, hook the draught ropes as high as possible.
In this state the plough should have a continual ten¬
dency to rise at the heel, and even to run a little into
the ground. Then hook the rope as low as possible.
The plough should now press hard on the furrow with
the heel, and have some tendency to run out of the
ground. If both these are observed, the plough is pro¬
perly constructed in this respect $ if not, it must be al¬
tered, either by changing the position of the sock or
that of the beam. Lowering the end of the beam will
correct the tendency of the plough to go deeper j the
raising the point of the sock will also have the same ef¬
fect. But it is of considerable importance not to take
the point of the sock out of the plane of the sole, and
it is much better to make the alteration by the beam.
The slope of the coulter has a considerable effect, but
it cannot be placed very far from the inclination of 450
without the risk of choking the plough by driving the
roots and stones before it. It is of great consequence
to have the coulter sit exactly in the direction of the
plough’s motion : if it is in any other direction, it will
powerfully twist the plough into its own track. As
it must be fixed in the middle of the beam’s thickness
to have strength, it is removed a little from the plane
of the land side, and it was the usual practice to point
It to the left below to compensate for this j but this by
no means removes the disposition to twist, and it ex¬
poses to the risk of catching a stone between its point
and that of the sock, which must now be driven for¬
ward through the firm ground at a great expence of la¬
bour to the cattle. Mr Small has very ingeniously re¬
medied this by giving the coulter a short knee to the
Practiccl
left immediately below the beam, and thus pointing it iustniW{s
-downwards in the plumb of the land side. See fig. 6. of I
It is not without its use to knowr the absolute force raubatidtj
necessary for tilling the ground. This has been fre-'
quently measured with a spring steelyard. One of
Small’s ploughs, worked by two horses, and employed
in breaking up stiff land which had been ploughed be¬
fore winter, and much consolidated by the rains, re¬
quired a force of 36olbs. avoirdupois; and we may
state this as the ordinary rate of such work j hut mo¬
derately firm sod, under good culture, requires at a
medium 32olbs.
As we wish to embrace every opportunity of render¬
ing this work useful to the public, w-e shall conclude
this article with an account of a plough which has just
now been recommended to public notice by the Scots
Highland Society as extremely proper for a hilly coun¬
try. The inventor, the Rev. Alexander Campbell mi¬
nister at Kilcaknonell in Argyleshire, w-as honoured
with the society’s gold medal, value 25I.
A, the sock (fig. 11.)$ the land-side of which sup-The Ar-
plies the place of the coulter, and the sole of it servesgjkiltii*
for a feather 5 it is 18 inches long, and is made of a P*0BS8'
plate of iron 12 inches broad when finished, and some¬
what under half an inch thick.—B, the head 5 to he
made of iron in a triangular form, 4 inches broad by 2
inches at the thickest part. There are 5 inches of the
head fixed in the sock.—C, the beam, 4 inches thick
by 5 inches deep, gradually tapering thinner; the length
6 feet.—E, the sheath, must be of the same thicknes*
with the beam above and the head below, and is five
inches broad. An iron screw bolt connects the beam
and head behind the sheath.—F, the handles are so
made that the slope of the mouldboard, which is fixed
to one of them, may be the longer and more gradual.
They are 5 feet 8 inches long, and 2 feet 4 inches
asunder at the ends.-—G, the mouldboard, consists of
7 rounded sticks two inches in diameter } the covert of
them is in the plane of the sole, the rest in succession
close to each other above it. This makes the mould-
board 14 inches broad. To prevent any earth from get¬
ting over the mouldboard, a thin deal 4 or 5 inches broad
is fixed above it. The mouldboard, land-side, and sole
of the plough, are clad with iron.—The length is 20
inches : this added to 18 inches, the length of the sock,
makes the length from point to heel 3 feet 2 inches.—
The muzzle or bridle OPH is also of a more conve¬
nient and better construction than those commonly in
use. By means of the screw pins at L and M, different
degrees of land may be given to the plough ; the iron
rod LH being thereby moved sidewise in the socket
LN, and up and down by OP. The rod is 30 inches
long, one broad, and half an inch thick. It is hooked
into a screwbolt at H. Two inches of the rod project
at N, in the form of an eye, before the muzzle, to re¬
ceive the hook of the crosstree.
The advantages of this plough are said to be : It i*
not so liable to be interrupted or turned out of it*
course by stones, roots, &c. as other ploughs are; nor
does it dip so deep as to he liable to be broken by
large stones or flags. The motion of the muzzle i*
also thought an improvement. Another advantage it
has over other ploughs is, its not being so liable to
be choked up by stubble, &c. This we understand
to be its chief excellency, and an object much desired
in
It I.
laments i*1 ^ie construction of the plough.
AGRICULT
Upon the whole, we
of are informed that this plough is lighter, less expen-
ibandry. sive, and less liable to go out of trim than the ordinary
' plough.
s Such are said to be the advantages of this construc-
. tion j but we cannot help expressing our apprehension
that the uniting the coulter and feather at the point of
the sock will expose the plough to great risks of being
put out of order. When the upright edge strikes a
stone obliquely, especially on the land side, it must be
violently twisted round the point of the head 5 and, ha¬
ving but a moderate thickness at this part, may be bro¬
ken or permanently twisted. The plough will then be
continually running out of its direction : and we appre¬
hend that this defect cannot be amended without taking-
off the sock and putting it in the fire. When a coulter
is bent by the same cause, the ploughman can either
rectify it by altering the wedging, or he can straighten
it in the field ; and it must be observed, that the plough
opposes much less resistance to the derangement of this
sort of coulter than of the common one. In the com¬
mon coulter the strain does not so much tend to twist
the plough round the line of its motion, as to press it
wholly to landward. The resistance to this is great j
but a very moderate force will twist it round its line of
motion. In either case, if the blow be given in that
point of the coulter where the draught line crosses it,
there will be no twist of the whole plough, but the point
of the plough will be forced horizontally to or from the
land. When the blow is'out of this line, the strain
tends to twist the beam or the plough. Experience
will determine which of the two is the most hazardous.
These ploughs were made by Thomas Lindsay, Abbey-
hill, Edinburgh, and models are to be seen in the hall
of the Highland Society.
A plough constructed in the following manner was
formerly almost the only one used in Scotland, and is
still occasionally employed where the soil is much en¬
cumbered with large stones, or the roots of shrubby
plants, such as broom, furze, &c.
iiijuoii The parts of which this plough is composed, are,
e Scots the head, the beam, the sheath, the wrest, the mould-
;h. board, the two handles, the two rungs, the sock, and
the coulter $ the two last are made of iron, and all the
rest of wood.
The Head is designed for opening the ground be¬
low. The length of the head from A to B is about
20 inches, and the breadth from A to H above five
inches ; C is the point upon which the sock is driven,
and the length from B to C is about six inches ; a is
the mortise into which the large handle is fixed, and b
is the mortise into which the sheath is fixed.
The head is that part of the plough which goes in
the ground j therefore the shorter and narrower it is,
the friction will be the less, and the plough more easily
drawn ; but the longer the head is, the plough goes
more steadily, and is not so easily put out of its direc¬
tion by any obstructions that occur. Twenty inches is
considered as a mean length j and five inches as the
naost convenient breadth.
The Sheath, E, is driven into the mortise b, and
thus fixed to the head AB. It is not perpendicular to
the head, but placed obliquely, so as to make the angle
formed by the lines AB and EB about 60 degrees.
Vol. 1. Part I.
‘37 .
-ription
eVII.
Husbandtv.
URE- 345
I be sheath is about 13 inches long, besides what is Instruments
driven into the mortise b (fig. 1.) ; about three inches of
broad, and one inch thick. J
The sheath is fixed to the mouldboard, as in fisr. n.p-^ 'T
E, in the same manner as the wrest is fixed to the head
in fig. 7.
Ihe Mouldboard is designed to turn over the
earth of the furrow made by the plough j and it is ob¬
vious that, according to the position of the sheath, the
mouldboard will turn over the earth of the furrow more
or less suddenly. Besides, when it forms a less amffe
with the head than 60 degrees, the plough is in great
danger of being choked, as the farmers term it.
The larger Handle, FA, is fixed to the head, bvFi-. 3.
driving it into the mortise o (fig. 1.). It is placed in °
the same plane with the head j and its length from
AI is about five feet four inches, and its diameter at
the place where it is fixed to the beam is about two
inches and a half, and tapers a little to the top F.
About ten inches from A, there is a curve in the
handle, which, when I is raised to its proper height
makes the lower part of it nearly parallel to the sheath
EB. This curve is designed to strengthen the handle.
Hie proper position of the handle is, when the top E
is about three feet two inches higher than the bottom
of the head AB.
The longer the handles, the plough is the more ea¬
sily managed, because the levers are more distant from
the centre of motion. 'IJie higher the top of the
handles, the plough is more easily raised out of the
ground, provided they be no higher than the lower
part of a man’s breast.
I be Beam is fixed to the larger handle and theFig.^.
sheath, all of which are placed in the same plane with
the head. The length of it, from H to I, is about six
feet ; its diameter is about four inches. When the
plough is in the ground, the beam should be just high
enough not to be incommoded by any thing on the
surface.
The position of the beam depends on the number of
cattle in the plough. When two horses are yoked, the
beam should be placed in such a manner as to make
the perpendicular distance betwixt the bolt-hole of the
beam and the plane of the head about 21 inches j when
four horses are yoked, two a-breast, this distance should
only he about 18 inches.
The Sock, BP, is fixed to the end of the head, Fig. 5.
and is about two feet long. In fitting the sock to
the head, the point ought to be turned a little to the
land or left side ; because otherwise it is apt to come
out of the land altogether. When turned to the left
it likewise takes off more land ; when turned upwards*
the plough goes shallow j and when downwards, it goes
deeper.
The Coulter is fixed to the beam, and is about Fig <5-
two feet ten inches long, two inches and a half broad,
sharp at the point and before, and thick on the back,*
like a knife. It is fixed and directed by wedges, so as
to make the point of it equal to, or rather a little be¬
fore, the point of the sock, and upon a line with the left
side of the head. This oblique position enables it to
throw roots, &c. out of the land, which requires less
force than cutting or pushing them forward.
The Wrest, BD, is fixed to the head, and is about FiV
X X 26 “■7-
;4<5
AGRICULTURE.
Practice
Instrmr.enls 26 nches long, two broad, and one thick. It is fixed
of to the head at B, in such a manner as to make the an-
IlusUandry. g|e contained between the lines AB and BD about 25
degrees. The wrest is seldom or never placed in the
same plane with the head, but gradually raised from the
place where it is fixed to it; that is, from B to K, as in
fig. 8. The position of the wrest determines the nature
of the furrow’. When the wrest is wide and low set,
the furrow is wide ; and when it is narrow and high
set, the furrow is narrow.
Fig. 9. represents the two Handles, fixed together
by the two rungs. The larger handle has already been
described; the lesser one is a few inches shorter, and
does not require to be quite so strong. The distance of
the handles at the little rung depends on the position of
the wrest. Their distance at M and P is about two feet
six inches. The lesser handle is fixed to the mould-
board at M, fig. 10. and to the wrest KB, at L.
Fig. 11. represents the plough complete, by joining
together figures 6. and 10. in the sheath EB. The
wrest BK is supposed to make an angle with the head
AB as in fig. 7. and the handles joined together as in
fig. 9.
After having given such a particular description of
all the parts and proportions of the Scots plough, it will
easily appear how it separates, raises, and turns over the
earth of the furrow. If it had no coulter, the earth
would open above the middle of the sock, and in a line
before the sheath ; but as the coulter opens the earth in
a line with the left side of the head, if the soil has any
cohesion, the earth of the furrow will be wholly raised
from the left side, and, as the sock moves forward, will
he thrown on the right side of the sheath, and by the
easting out of the mouldboard, or the raising of the
wrest, will be turned over.
Sig. 12. The Bridle, or Muzzle, is another article belong¬
ing to the plough. It is fixed to the end of the beam,
and the catUe are yoked by it. The muzzle commonly
used is a curved piece of iron, fixed to the beam by a
bolt through it. ABC is the muzzle, AC the bolt by
which it is fixed to the beam; D is the swingle-tree or
cross-tree, to which the traces are fixed ; and B is a
hook or cleek, as it is commonly called, which joins the
muzzle and swingle-tree.
Kb>- 13- Some use another kind of muzzle, ABCD. It is
fixed to the beam by two bolts, and has notches by
which the cleek of the swingle-tree may be fixed ei¬
ther to the right or the left of the beam, There are
also different holes for the hind bolt to pass through, by
which the draught may be fixed either above or below
the beam. AD is the fore bolt upon which the
muzzle turns ; on BC are four notches, betwixt any
tw o of which the cleek of the sivingle-tree may be fixed.
When the cleek is fixed at B, the plough is turned to¬
wards the firm land, and takes off a broader furrow ;
and when fixed at C, it is turned towards the plough¬
ed land, and takes off a narrow’er furrow. E and F
are the holes on each side through which the hindmost
bolt passes. When the bolt is put through the highest
two, these holes being thereby brought to the middle
of the beam, the fore part of the muzzle is raised a-
bove the beam, and the plough is made to go deeper,
and when put through the lowest two, the fore part of
the muzzle is sunk below the beam, and the plough is
made to go shallower.. This muzzle may be so con¬
structed as to have the same play with the common one.instlumems
A is the end of the beam ; B a plate of iron sunk into of
it, and, with a similar one on the other side, is rivetted^^ndry.
into it by bolts ; C is the muzzle fixed to these plates
of iron by the bolt D, which bolt may be put through
any of the holes EE. From the construction of this
muzzle it is plain, that it has the same play with the
common one, and that by it the land of the plough
may be altered at pleasure.
Of all forms, that of the Scots plough is the fit-Properties
test for breaking up stiff" and rough land, especially of theSeotsj
where stones abound ; and no less fit for strong claysP*01'^1,
hardened by drought. The length of its head gives it
a firm hold of the ground ; its weight prevents it from
being thrown out by stones; the length of the handles
gives the ploughman great command to direct its mo¬
tion ; and by the length of its head, and of its mould-
board, it lays the furrow-slice cleverly over. This
plough was contrived during the infancy of agriculture,
and was well contrived : in the soils above described it
has not an equal. ,.9
But in tender soil it is improper, because it addsin wliat
gi’eatly to the expence of ploughing, without any coun-sobimpro-
terbalancing benefit. The length of the head andPer'
mouldboard increases the friction, and consequently it
requires a greater number of oxen or horses than are
necessary in a shorter plough. There is another par¬
ticular in its form that resists the draught: the mould-
board makes an angle with the sock, instead of making
a line with it gently curving backward. There is an
objection against it no less solid, that it does not stir the
ground perfectly : the hinder part of the wrest rises a
foot above the sole of the head: and the earth that lies
immediately below that hinder part, is left unstirred.
This is ribbing land below the surface, similar to what
is done by ignorant farmers on the surface.
These defects must be submitted to in a soil that re¬
quires a strong heavy plough; but may be avoided in
a cultivated soil by a plough differently constructed.
Of all the ploughs fitted for a cultivated soil free of
stones, that already mentioned, which was introduced
into Scotland about 20 years ago, by James Small
in Blackadder Mount, Berwickshire, is the best. It
is now in great request; and with reason, as it avoids
all the defects of the Scots plough. The shortness of
its head and its mouldboard lessens the friction great¬
ly : from the point of the sock to the back part of the
head it is only 30 inches : and the whole length,
from the point of the beam to the end of the handles,
between eight and nine feet. The sock and mould-
board make one line gently curving ; and consequently
gather no earth. Instead of a wrest, the under edge
of the mouldboard is one plane with the sole of the
head ; which makes a wide furrow, without leaving j^0 |
any part unstirred. It is of late commonly termed tbechain-
chain plough, because it is drawn by an iron chain plough,
fixed to the back part of the beam immediately be-P>*Bte"1'
fore the coulter. This has two advantages; first, by l”'
means of a muzzle, it makes the plough go deep or
shallow; and, next, it stresses the beam less than if
fixed to the point, and therefore a slender beam is
sufficient.
As we have already sufficiently explained the specu¬
lative principles upon which this plough is formed, we
shall only remark, that it is proper for loams, for carse
clays,
art I.
trumentsdays, and, in general, for every sort of tender soil
of free of stones. It is even proper for opening up pas-
sbandry.ture ground, where the soil has been formerly well
cultivated.
, tnesock. ^ splke(l s«ck is used in the Scots plough. The
Itc VII. difference between it and the feathered sock will behest
understood by comparing their figures. Fig. 14. is the
common sock, and fig. 15. the feathered one.
From the construction of the feathered sock, it is
obvious, that it must meet with greater resistance than
the spiked or spear sock. However, when the plough
takes off the earth of the furrow broader than that part
of the sock which goes upon the head, it is more easily
drawn than the plough with the spiked or spear sock;
for the earth which the spiked or spear sock leaves to
be opened by the wrest, is more easily opened by the
feather of the other sock. In ley, the feather sock
makes the plough go more easily, because the roots of
the grass, which go beyond the reach of the plough, are
more easily cut by the feather than they can be torn
asunder by the spiked or spear sock. The feathered
sock is also of great use in cutting and destroying root
weeds. The spiked or spear sock, however, answers
much better in strong land.
It is proper here to add, that in fitting the feathered
sock into the head, the point of it should be turned a
ri little from the land, or a little to the right hand.
J orance we 1°°^ back 40 years, ploughs of different con-
< armers structions did not enter even into a dream. The Scots
1 'Gotlandplough was universally used, and no other was known.
\ .$ago ^ere was 110 *ess ign0I,ance as to the number of cattle
i‘°' necessary for this plough. In the south of Scotland,
six oxen and two horses were universal; and in the
north 10 oxen, sometimes 12. The first attempt to
lessen the number of oxen was in Berwickshire. The
low part of that county abounds with stone and clay
marl, the most substantial of all manures, which had
been long used by one or two gentlemen. About 30
years ago it acquired reputation, and spread rapidly.
As two horses and two oxen were employed in every
marl cart j the farmer, in summer fallowing, and in
preparing land for marl, was confined to four oxen and
two horses. And as that manure afforded plenty of
succulent straw for oxen, the farmer was surprised to
find that four oxen did better now than six formerly.
* Marling, however, a laborious work, proceeded slowly,
till people were taught by a noted farmer in that
country, what industry can perform by means of power
properly applied. It was reckoned a mighty task to
marl five or six acres in a year. That gentleman, by
having plenty of red clover for his working cattle, ac¬
complished the marling of 50 acres in a summer, and
once of 54. Having so much occasion for oxen, he tried
with success two oxen and two horses in a plough j and
that practice became general in Berwickshire.
A chain-plough of a smaller size than ordinary,
drawn by a single horse, is of all the most proper
for horse-hoeing, supposing the land to be mellow,
which it ought to be for that operation. It is suffi-
1 mil cient for making furrows to receive the dung, for
i: s.}10rgeP^0Ugbing the drills after dunging, and for hoeing the
4hre. croP-
< nend- A still smaller plough of the same kind may be re-
F va- commended for a kitchen garden. It can be reduced
c p,ir' to the smallest size, by being made of iron ; and where
agriculture.
3+7
instruments
of
Husbandry.
the land is properly dressed for a .kitchen garden, an
iron plough of the smallest size drawn by a horse will
. save much spade-work.
Nor is this the only case where a single-horse plough
may be profitably employed. It is sufficient for seed-
iurrowing barley, where the land is light and well-
ressed. It may be used in the seconder third plough¬
ing of fallow, to encourage annual weeds, which are
destroyed in subsequent ploughings.
cJ!t^?tAeraZp/0U^ i8<a macIline of very simple
construction and easily worked. AB is the beam, W°»gh,
1 1 jiS1^tT tl,e main handle, FR the small-Plale Ix*
er handle, GH the coulter, KI the sock or share, NP ^ *
the bridle S the fly-band, and ML a piece of wood
in place of a head. I he whole of this plough should
be made of ash or elm; the irons should be steeled and
well tempered 5 and that part of the plough which is
under ground in tilling should be covered with plates
of iron. The difference between this and the common
plough seems to consist in the bridle at the end of the
beam, by winch the ploughman can give the plough
more or less land by notches at N, or make it cut deep¬
er or shallower by the holes at P; in the coulter or
share, which is so made and set as to cut off the new
furrow without tearing; and in the mouldboard, which
is so shaped as first to raise a little, and then gradually
turn over, the new cut furrow, with very little resist¬
ance. But the greatest advantage attending it, is its
being so easy of draught, that it will do double the
work of any common plough.
The paring plough is an instrument used in several The'faring
parts or Lngland for paring off the surface of the f*Jou£h,
ground, in order to its being burnt. Mr Bradley hasPlateIX-
given the following description of a very simple instru-^'
ment of this kind : From A to A (fig. 15.) is the
plough-beam, about seven feet long, mortised and pi¬
nioned into the block B, which is of clean timber with¬
out knots. . CC are the sheaths or standards, made flat
on the inside, to close equally with the paring plate
and fastened to it with a bolt and key on each side, aw
at D. E is the paring plate of iron laid with steel
abont four inches wide, and from 12 to 18 inches long.
Ihis plate must be made to cut on the sides, which are
bolted to the standards as well as at the bottom part,
t f are two iron braces to keep the standards from giv-
ing way: these standards must be mortised near their
outsides and through the block. GG are the plough
handles, which must be fixed slopeways between the
beam and the standards. The pin holes in the beam,
the use of which is to make this plough cut more or
less deep, by fixing the wheels nearer to or farther
from the paring plate, should not be above two inches
asunder.
^presents the four-coultered plough of Mr The Foer-
ull. Its beam is ten feet four inches long, whereas couliered
that of_ the common plough is but eight. The beam p|ough-
is straight in the common plough, but in this it is"
straight only from a to 6, and thence arched ; so that
the line let down perpendicularly from the corner at 0,
to the^even surface on which the plough stands, would
be n| inches ; and if another line were let down from
the turning of the beam at b, to the same surface, it
would be one foot eight inches and a half; and a third
line let down to the surface from the bottom of the
beam at that part which bears upon the pillow, will
X x 2 show
Plate IX.
348
AGRICULTURE.
Instruments show the beam to be hvo feet ten inches high in that
of part. At the distance of three feet two inches from
Husbandry. t|ie enj 0f t{ie beam a, at the plough-tail, the first coul-
"y ’ ter^ or t]iat next the share, is let through j and at 13
inches from this, a second coulter is let through : a third
at the same distance from that $ and, finally, the fourth
at the same distance from the third, that is, 13 inches,
and from a to 6 is seven feet.
The crookedness of the upper part of the beam of
this plough is contrived to avoid the too great length
of the three foremost coulters, which would be too
much if the beam was straight all the way $ and they
would be apt to bend and be displaced, unless they
were very heavy and clumsy. Ash is the best wood to
make the beam of, it being sufficiently strong, and yet
light. The sheath in this plough is to be seven inches
broad. The fixing of the share in this, as well as in
the common plough, is the nicest part, and requires
the utmost art of the maker ; for the well-going of the
plough wholly depends upon the placing this. Sup¬
posing the axis of the beam, and the left side of the
share, to be both horizontal, they must never be set
parallel to each other j for if they are, the tail of the
share bearing against the trench as much as the point,
would cause the point to incline to the right hand, and
it would be carried out of the ground into the furrow.
If the point of the share should be set so, that its side
should make an angle on the right side of the axis of
the beam, this inconvenience would be much greater j
and if its point should incline much to the left, and
Z make too large an angle on that side with the axis of
the beam, the plough would run quite to the left hand ;
and if the holder, to prevent its running quite out of
the ground, turns the upper part of his plough to¬
wards the left hand, the pin of the share will rise up,
and cut the furrow diagonally, leaving it half un¬
ploughed. To avoid this and several other inconveni¬
ences, the straight side of the share must make an angle
upon the left side of the beam 5 but that must be so very
acute a one, that the tail of the share may only press
less against the side of the trench than the point does.
This angle is shown by the pricked lines at the bottom
of fig. 9. where e f is supposed to be the axis of the
beam let down to the surface, and g f parallel to the
; * left side of the share : and it is the subtense eg that
determines the inclination which the point of the
share must have towards the left hand. This subtense,
says Mr Tull, at the fore-end of an eight-feet beam,
should never be more than one inch and a half, and
whether the beam be long or short, the subtense must
be the same.
The great thing to be taken care of, is the placing
the four coulters j which must be so set, that the four
imaginary places described by their four edges, as the
plough moves forward, may be all parallel to each
other, or very nearly so, for if any one of them should
be very much inclined to, or should recede much from,
Either of the other, then they would not enter the
ground together. In order to place them thus, the
beam must be carefully pierced in a proper manner.
The second coulter-hole must be two inches and a half
more on the right hand than the first, the third must
be as much more to the right of the second, and the
fourth the same measure to the right hand of the third 5
‘ and this two inches and a half must be carefully mea-
Practice
sured from the centre of one hole to the centre of theinstrumen
other. Each of these holes is a mortise of an inch of
and a quarter wide, and three inches and a half long^baiidi j
at the top, and three inches at the bottom. The two 'v~"‘
opposite sides of this hole are parallel to the top and
bottom, but the back is oblique, and determines the
obliquity of the standing of the coulter, which is
wedged tight up to the poll. The coulter is two feet
eight inches long before it is worn : the handle takes
up sixteen inches of this length, and is allowed thus
long, that the coulter may be driven down as the point
wears away. As to the wheels, the left hand wheel is
20 inches in diameter, and that on the right hand two
feet three inches, and the distance at which they are
set from each other is two feet 54 inches.
F
2. The Patent Sward-cutter.
147
The different parts of this instrument are represent-Patent
ed by N° i. 2. 3. of fig. 6. AA, &c. a square frame sward-
three feet four inches from the fore to the hind part, by p““eerjx
four feet three inches, the breadth of the machine with¬
in side; the timber (when of fir) four inches square,
placed on two wheels BB three feet diameter, a little
more or less (the old fore-wheels of a chaise may answer
the purpose), to support the hind part of the machine.
CC, &c. are six strong pieces of wood, called bitUsy
three feet long, five inches and a half broad, the thick¬
ness six inches at E, and tapering to three inches at F.
Into these bulls are fixed the cutting wheels, which
are iron, 13 inches in diameter, ^ths of an inch thick at
the centre, about an inch diameter, for piercing holes
to fix the iron axles in j from that they are to be of
such thickness, as to allow the edges to be well steeled.
The wheels are fixed by two bolts going through the
bulls, with eyes on one end for the axles of the wheels
to run in, and nuts and screws on the other to make
them very firm by being sunk in the bulls, to prevent
their interfering with the weights LL, &c. resting on
them.
GG, &c. are hollow pieces of wood, called thorles,
each 34 inches long, which enclose the bolt MM, and
keep the bulls CC, &c. at their proper distances, but
may be made longer or shorter at pleasure, according
as the sward requires to be cut in. larger or smaller
pieces. They are in two pieces bound together, and
jointed by a strap of leather or cord, which allows them
to be readily changed when the cutting wheels require
to be kept at more or less distance.
The iron bolt MM goes through two pieces of
wood or iron PP, seven inches long, clear of the wood,
supported by iron stays fixed to the frame, and through
all the bulls. It requires to be strong, as the draught
of the horses terminates there.
IIH, N° 2. and 3. a cylinder or segment of wood,
seven inches diameter, called a rocking tree, which
goes across the frame, and moves on the pivots fixed
into it, one at each end, supported by an iron bolt or
piece of wood mortised into the frame, eight inches
high, as appears in N° 2. and 3. to which six chains or
ropes are fixed by hooks, at different distances, as yen
want your cuts, nine, eight, seven, or six inches from
one another, and are joined to the end of each bull in
which the cutting wheels run j so that when the rock¬
ing tree is turned about by the lever I, fixed in the
middle of it, all the bulls, with their cutting wheels,
are
Pit L A G R I C U
jn|,meats are raised out of the ground at once, as in N°3. by
L T U R E.
349
which means the machine may be turned, or moved
Hjandry. from plaCe to place with great ease, without any danger
■ of straining the wheels.
, LLL, &c. N° i. 2. 3. are weights of freestone,
26 inches long and six inches broad; the under one
four inches thick, the upper one three inches thick j
weighing about 641b. the under, and 48 the upper j
each of them having two holes, through which iron
spikes, firmly fixed in the bulls, pass, in order to keep
them steady.
When the ground is easily cut, the under stone may
answer j when more difficult, the other stone maybe
added ; so that every wheel may have seven stone ’weight
upon it, which has been found sufficient for the stillest
land and toughest sward the machine has ever been
tried on. Cast iron weights will answer fully better,
but are more expensive.
The lever I, N° 2. 3. which ought to be five feet
long, must have a sliding rope on it, fixed to the back
part of the frame 5 so that when the cutting wheels are
all taken out of the ground three or four inches, by the
rocking tree’s being turned partly round by the lever,
the rope may be fixed to it by a loop over the pin R,
3‘ (it ought tube placed three feet four inches from
the extremity of the lever I). Thus all the cutting
wheels are kept out of the ground till the machine is
turned; and then by moving the loop off the pin, it
slips back towards the frame, and the lever is gently let
back to its place, as in N° 2. by which the cutting
wheels are put into their former posture, by the weights
fixed on the bulls in which they run. The levers may
be made of good tough ash.
PP, N° I. a small bolt of iron, with a hook on one
end of it (one is sufficient), to strengthen the bolt
MM to be hooked on the centre of it, and joined to the
frame by a nut and screw.
The grooves in which the cutting wheels run, may
be covered below at the hinder part with a plate of
thin black iron, 6 inches long, 3 inches broad, having
a slit in it where the wheels run, to prevent (if found
necessary) any grass, weeds, or small stones, from fill¬
ing the grooves, and clogging the wheels.
To the frame N° 1. are fixed (for a double-horse
sward-cutter (three shafts, as in a waggon, of such
length, strength, and distance from one another, as any
workman may think proper.
For a single-horse sward-cutter (which has only four
cutting wheels), a pair of shafts are used, and may make
the two sides of the frame without any joinings. The
width of the frame, in proportion to the double-horse
sward-cutter, is as four to six.
It is recommended for a double-horse sward-cutter
to have eight bulls and wheels, in order that when it
is used to reduce hard clody summer-fallow, or land
for barley, before the last furrow, or even after it, the
whole weight (42 stone) employed in cutting the stiff-
est land and toughest sward, may be applied to the 8
bulls then at 6 inches from one another. The 64!!}.
weights to be applied to six of the bulls, and two of the
48II). weights to each of the additional bulls, which is
a sufficient weight for the purpose, and will effectually
prevent a clod of more than six inches breadth from
escaping being broke into pieces.
In the same manner*, a single-horse sward-cutter may
have six bulls for the above-mentioned purpose; the 28instnm.enf«
stone belonging to it divided thus: The 64lb. weights ' of
to lour of the bulls, and two of the 481b. weights to Husbandry.
each of the additional bulls, v v— ■■J
. ^ hat the machine may come as cheap as possible to
the public, the inventor is of opinion that the expence
of the two wheels and the iron axle (which is consi-
TS llmay be. Savet1, by i°in:nS sHongly to the frame
at », i\ 3. a piece of wood with a little curve at the
extremity of it, resembling the foot of a sledge for-
merly much used in Scotland to carry in the corn from
the held ; the part of it resting on the ground being
kept 18 inches (the half diameter of the wheels) from
the frame by a strong support of wood.
As the two outer bulls next the frame are apt to
get under it, so as to prevent the cutting rvheels from
being taken out of the ground, a thin slip of iron fixed
to the inside of the frame, nearly opposite to the back
end of the bulls, of convenient length, will be found
necessary.
The original intention of this machine was to pre¬
pare old grass ground for the plough, by cutting it
across the ridges, in the beginning of or during win¬
ter, when the ground is soft, in order to answer all
the purposes that Mr Tull proposed by his four-coulter
plough above described, and so strongly recommended
by him for bringing into tilth grass ground that has
been long rested. This the sward-cutter has been
found to do much more effectually and expeditiously :
For Mr Tull’s machine cuts the sward in the same di¬
rection with the plough ; and is liable, frem every ob¬
struction any of the coulters meet with, to be thrown
out of its work altogether, or the instrument broken :
to which the sward-cutter, consisting of four, six or
more cutting wheels, is never liable, from these being
entirely independent of one another, cutting the ground
across the ridges before ploughing, and rendering that
operation easier to two horses than it would be to three,
without its being cut. The furrow being cut across,
falls finely from the plough in squares of any size re¬
quired, not under six inches, in place of long slips of
tough sward seldom and imperfectly broke by the four-
coultered plough.
This instrument is very fit for preparing ground for
burnbating, as it will save much hard labour.
It may be properly used in cross-cutting clover of
one or two years standing, to prepare the ground for
wheat, if the land is stiff and moist enough.
It may be applied to cutting and cross-cutting pa¬
sture ground, intended to have manure of any kind put
upon it to meliorate the grass. In this it will far ex¬
ceed the scarificator mentioned in one of Mr Young’s
tours ; as that instrument is liable, as well as the four-
coultered plough, to be thrown out of its work when
meeting with a stone or other interruption. This the
sward-cutter is proof against, which is looked on as its
greatest excellence.
In preparing for barley, the sward-cutter excels a
roller of any kind in reducing the large hard clods in
clay land, occasioned by a sudden drought, after its
being ploughed too wet; and it is likewise very pro¬
per for reducing such clay land when under a summer-
fallow. In this operation, the sward-cutter is greatly
to be preferred to the cutting-roller, likewise men¬
tioned by Mr Young in one of his tours ; for the
wheels-.
35°
Instruments wheels of the latter being all dependent one on ano-
of ther, when one is thrown out by a stone, three or four
Husbandry. mQgt share the same fate. Besides, the cutting-roller
w v 1 jiag jjy,. seven wheels in six feet; whereas the sward-
cutter has six in four feet three inches, at nine inches
distant; and, if necessary, may have them so near as
six inches.
After old grass ground is cut across with the sward-
cutter and ploughed, it has a very uncommon and work¬
like appearance, from each square turned over by the
plough being raised up an inch or two at the side last
moved by the earthboard ; so that the field when finish¬
ed, is all prettily waved, and resembles a piece of water
when blown on by a gentle breefce. By this means a
very great deal of the land’s surface is exposed to the
frost and other influences of the air, which cannot fail
to have a good effect on it.
Two horses are sufficient for the draught of a double-
horse sward-cutter, and one horse for a single-horse one.
One man manages the machine and drives the horses.
He begins his operation by first measuring off 20 or 30
paces from the machine, less or more as he inclines, and
there fixes a pole. He then cuts the field across, as
near at right angles with the ridges as he can. When
the cutting wheels are past the last furrow about a
yard or so, and the machine is upon the utmost ridge
of the field on which it must turn, he must stop the
horses ; then take hold of the lever I, N° 2. and by
pulling it to him he raises the cutting wheels out of
the ground, which are kept so by the loop of the rope
being put over the pin R, in the lever I, N° 3. till the
machine is turned and brought to its proper place,
which is done by measuring off the same distance for¬
merly done on the opposite side of the field. When
the cutting wheels are exactly over the outmost furrow,
then, on the horses being stopped, the rope is slipt off
the pin R, and the lever returned to its former place,
as represented N° 2. which allows the weights LL, &c.
to force the cutting wheels into the ground again. He
then goes on until the interval betwixt the first and se¬
cond stroke of the machine is all cut. In this manner
the field is to be finished, after which you may begin
to plough when you please. (N. B. There must be a
pole at each side of the field.)
It is of no consequence whether the land to be
sward-cut is in crooked ridges or straight, in flat ridges
or in very high raised ones. Be the surface ever so un¬
even, the cutting wheels, being all independent of one
another, are forced by their weights into every furrow
or hollow.
One sward-cutter will cut as much in one day as six
ploughs will plough.
The land may lie several months in winter after be¬
ing sward-cut, when there is no vegetation to make
the cuts grow together again before it is ploughed j but
the sooner it is ploughed after cutting the better, that
it may have the benefit of all the winter’s frost, which
makes it harrow' better at the seed time.
When the ground is harrowed, the harrows ought to
go with the waves which appear after ploughing, not
against them, as by that means they are less apt to tear
up the furrows all cut into squares. This, however,
need only be attended to the two first times of harrow¬
ing, as they are called.
Any common wright and smith may make the in-
Practip
strument. It is very strong, very simple, and easily
managed and moved from place to place j and, if put ofll
under cover, will last many years. Htisbalii
It was invented some time ago, by the Honourable
Robert Sandilands and is represented in the Plate as
it has been lately improved by him, the price being at
the same time reduced from 15I. or 16I. to 5I. or 61.
3. The Cultivator.
This instrument was invented by Mr William i’'rilel4|
of Northampton j and that gentleman received, fromvat0r(jl
the Society for the encouragement of Arts, the society’sscdbedl}
silver medal. The purpose of this instrument is to pul¬
verize tenacious soils that have been once ploughed, in a
much more complete and rapid manner than can be
accomplished by any other instrument. It is thus de¬
scribed, Plate XII.-—A, the beam ; BB, the handles;
CC, a cross bar of a semicircular form, containing a
number of holes, which allow the two bars DD to be
placed nearer or further from each other.
HD are two strong bars moveable at one end upon
a pivot E, and extending from thence in a triangular
form to the cross bar C. In these bars are square holes,
which allow the shares F placed therein to be fixed to
any height required.
The seven shares marked F, are shaped at their lower
extremities like small trowels j the upper parts of them
are square iron bars.
GGG are three iron wheels on which the machine is
moved; they may be raised or lowered at pleasure.
H, the iron hook to which the swingle-tree and horses
are to be fixed.
When the machine is first employed on the land, the
bars DD are expanded as much as possible. As the
soil is more loosened, they are brought nearer to the
centre ; the shares then occupy a less space, and the
soil will consequently be better pulverized.
In working on a rough fallow, therefore, the culti¬
vator should be set for its greatest expansion, and con¬
tracted in proportion as the clods are reduced. The
inventor declares himself confident that one man, a
boy, and six horses, will move as much land in a day,
and as effectually, as six ploughs, meaning land in a fal¬
low state that has been previously ploughed. It is requi¬
site in some states of the soil to alter the breadth of the
shares, but of this it is presumed that every farmer will
be a proper judge. By the expansion and contraction of
the cultivator, the points of the shai’es are in a small
degree moved out of the direct line ; but this is said to
be so trifling as to prove no impediment to its working.
A certificate from Mr William Shaw of Cottenend,
near Northampton, states, that he had used Mr Les¬
ter’s cultivator, upon a turnip fallow, in summer 1800; n
and that he believes it to be a very useful implement >
for cultivating the land in a fallow state, by its working
or scuffling off seven acres per day with six horses. He
adds, that from its property of contracting and expand¬
ing, it is calculated to work the same land in a rough
or fine state, by which means it unites the principles of
two implements in one, and by the index on the axis
it may be worked at any depth if required.
The brake is a large and weighty harrow, the pur-»cr‘!>e: (
pose of which is to reduce a stubborn soil, where an^
ordinary ^
AGRICULTURE.
Pit!.
nu nsnts
I I1
in ndry.
A G R I C U
ordinary harrow makes little impression. It consists of
fom square bu!!sj eacn side five inches, and six feet and
.. i .i. rn . .. . \ . '
*, ' dnu six teei ana
   liali 111 length. I he teeth are 17 inches long, bend¬
ing foiwaid like a coulter. Four of them are inserted
into each bull, fixed above with a screw-nut, having
] 2 inches free below, with a heel close to the under part
of the bull, to prevent it from being pushed back by
stones. I he nut above makes it easy to lie taken out
for sharping. This brake requires four horses or four
oxen. One of a lesser size will not fully answer the
purpose : one of a larger size will require six oxen 5 in
which case the work may be performed at less expense
1 0 with the plough.
,s< Tbls instrument may be applied to great advantage
in the following circumstances. In the fallowing strono-
day that requires frequent ploughings, a braking be!
tween every ploughing will pulverize the soil, and ren¬
der the subsequent ploughings more easy. In the
month of March or April, when strong ground is
ploughed for barley, especially if bound with couch-
grass, a cross-braking is preferable to a cross-plough¬
ing, and is done at half the expence. When ground
is ploughed from the state of nature, and after a com¬
petent time is cross-ploughed, the brake is applied with
great success, immediately after the cross-plouo-hino-
to reduce the whole to proper tilth.
Let it be observed, that a brake with a greater num¬
ber of teeth than above mentioned, is improper for
ground that is bound together by the roots of plants
which is always the case of ground new broken up from
its natural state. The brake is soon choked, and can
do no execution till freed from the earth it holds. A
less number of teeth would be deficient in pulverizinff
the soil. b
5. The Harrow.
Harrows are commonly considered as of no use but
to cover the seed j but they have another use, scarce less
essential, which is to prepare land for the seed. This
is an article of importance for producing a good crop.
Jiut how imperfectly either of these purposes is per-
tormed by the common harrow, will aopear from the
lollowing account of it.
A little. reflection, even without experience, will
mare it evident, that the same harrows, whatever be
the form, can never answer all the different purposes of
narrowing, nor can operate equally in all different soils
rough or smooth, firm or loose. The following, there-
toie, have been recommended ; which are of three dif-
ierent Jorms, adapted for different purposes* They
are all of the same weight, drawn each by two horses.
. narcli is the best wood for them, because it is cheap
« - not to split. The first is composed of four
e If owls, each four feet ten inches long, three and a quar-
. ter indies broad, and three and a half deep ; the in¬
terval between the bulls 11 inches and three fourths;
so that the breadth of the whole harrow is four feet!
the bulls are connected by four sheths, which go"
irough each bull, and are fixed by timber nails driven
through both. In each bull, five teeth are inserted
en inches free under the bull, and ten inches asunder.’
| iey are of the same form with those of the brake, and
inserted into the wood in the same manner. Each of
! »ese teeth is three pounds weight: and where the har-
L T U R E.
row is made of birch, the weight of the whole is six r i
z:rv:ntDMd;- 4- ntV~t°
f . f turee inches high, with four notch- Husbandry.
We t /-Tg, r g',er °r l0Wer- To this bridle a don-
i 4 i ls4fixed for ^vo horses drawing abreast as in -i
P ough. And to strengthen the harrow, a flaVrod of
iron is nailed upon the harrow from corner to corner in
the line of the draught. 111
tosItherRvf !!ari'iW "T-'StS ^ twoP^ts, connected Fig. 4.
ther bya crank or lunge in the middle, and two
c ams of aqua length, one at each end, which keep
he two parts always parallel, and at the same distance
from each other. The crank is so contrived, as to at
low the two parts to ply to the ground like two un-
connected harrows; but neither of them to rise above
the other, more than if they were a single harrow
without a joint. In a word, they may form an angle
downward, but not upward. Thus they have the
. .°* fwo Narrows in curved ground, and of one
weighty harrow in a plain. This harrow is composed
of Six bulls, each four feet long, three inches broad,
and three and a half deep. The interval between the
bulls nine and a half inches ; which makes the breadth
oi he whole harrow, including the length of the crank,
to be five feet five inches. Each bull has five teeth
mne inches free under the wood, and ten inches asun!
der. The weight of each tooth is two pounds ; the
rest as m the former. ?
The third consists also of two parts, connected to-FiV -
gether like that last mentioned. It has eight bulls
each four feet long, two and a half inches bread, and
three deep. The interval between the bulls is eight
inches ; and the breadth of the whole harrow, inclu¬
ding the length of the crank, is six feet four inches.
In each bull are inserted five teeth, seven inches free
under the wood, and ten and a half inches asunder
each tooth weighing one pound. The rest as in the’
two former harrows.
These harrows are a considerable improvement. They Properties
ply to curved ground like two unconnected harrows ; of these
and when drawn in one plane, they are in effect one harrows. _
harrow of double weight, which makes the teeth pierce
deep into the ground. The imperfection of common
harrows, mentioned above, will suggest the advantages
ot the set of harrows here recommended. The first is
proper for harrowing land that has long lain after
ploughing, as where oats are sown on a winter furrow
and in general for harrowing stiff land : it pierces deep
into the soil by its long teeth, and divides it minutely.
1 he second is intended tor covering the seed : its lono-
teeth lays the seed deeper than the common harrow can ,
do ; which is no slight advantage. By placing the seed
considerably under the surface, the young plants are
on t.ie one hand, protected from too much heat, and*
on toe other, have sufficiency of moisture. At the
same time, the seed is so well covered that none of it
is lost. Seed slightly covered by the common harrows
wants moisture, and is burnt up by the sun ; beside
that a proportion of it is left upon the surface uncover¬
ed. I he third harrow supplies what may be deficient
in the second, by smoothing the surface, and covering
the seed more accurately. The three harrows make
the ground finer and finer, as heckles do lint; or, to
use a different comparison, the first harrow makes the
bed*,
352
AGRICULTUEE.
PractL
Instruments bed, the second lays the seed in it, the third smooths
of the clothes. They have another advantage not infe-
Husbandry.rjor t0 any mentioned: they mix manure with the soil
'“■““■'V"’-”' nlore intimately than can be done by common harrows ;
and upon such intimate mixture depends greatly the ef¬
fect of manure, as has already been explained. To con¬
clude, these harrows are contrived to answer an esta¬
blished principle in agriculture, That fertility depends
greatly on pulverizing the soil, and on an intimate
mixture of manure with it, whether dung, lime, marl,
or any other.
Plate VII. The Chain and Screw harrow. Fig. 8. is the plan
of a harrow also invented by Mr Sandilands* and to
which he has given the name of the chain and screw
harrow. Its properties are, that if your ridges be
high, and you wish to harrow them from one end to the
other, by lengthening the chain (which the screw com¬
mands), the harrow, when drawn along, forms an angle
downwards, and misses none of the curve of the ridge,
so far as it extends (which may be nine feet, the di¬
stance from A to B. The extent, in the contrary di¬
rection, is five feet six inches). When the crowns of
the ridges have got what is thought a sufficient harrow¬
ing lengthwise, you shorten the chain by the screw,
which forms an angle upwards •, the harrow is then
drawn by the horses, one on each side of the furrow $
which completely harrows it, and the side of the ridges,
if 18 feet broad.
When you want to harrow even ground or high
ridges across with the screw, you can bring the harrow
to be horizontal, so as to work as a solid harrow with¬
out a joint.
The teeth are formed and fixed in the common man¬
ner, square, not in the fashion of coulters *, and are nine
or ten inches below the wood, and of such strength as
it is thought the land requires. The teeth cut, or ra¬
ther tear, the ground at every four inches without va¬
riation, though seemingly placed irregularly j and this
without any risk of choking, except sometimes at the
extreme angles, where the teeth are necessarily near
each other ; but which may be cleaned with the greatest
ease, by raising them a little from the ground. rlhe
figures i, 2, &c. point out where the 12 teeth on each
side of the harrow are placed.
Where a strong brake-harrow is not necessary, by
making the teeth shorter and lighter you may have 48
teeth, which will tear the ground at every two inches,
cover the seed wTell, and make a fine mould.
It is recommended, that harrows for every purpose,
and of any size, be made on the above principle •, by
which no tooth can ever follow the track of another,
and all of them will be kept constantly acting.
6. The Roller.
IS3
Line these fillies with planks of wood equally long with Iiutrimtl
the roller, and so narrow as to ply into a circle. Bind of I
them fast together with iron rings. Beech wood is the Husl)an|i
best, being hard and tough. The roller, thus mount- r
ed, ought to have a diameter of three feet ten inches.
It has a double pair of shafts for two horses abreast.
These are sufficient in level ground : in ground not le¬
vel, four horses may be necessary. The roller without
the shafts ought to weigh 200 stone Dutch ; and the
large diameter makes this great weight easy to be
drawn. 154I
Rolling wheat in the month of April is an import-^fasoi,sj
ant article in loose soil •, as the winter rains pressing1011'^
down the soil leave many roots in the air. Barley
ought to be rolled immediately after the seed is sown ;
eepecially where grass seeds are sown with it. The
best time for rolling a gravelly soil, is as soon as the
mould is so dry as to bear the roller without clinging
to it. A clay soil Ought neither to be tilled, harrowed,
nor rolled, till the field be perfectly dry. And as
rolling a clay soil is chiefly intended for smoothing the
surface, a dry season may be patiently waited for, even
till the crop be three inches high. There is the greater
reason for this precaution, because much rain imme¬
diately after rolling is apt to cake the surface when
drought follows. Oats in a light soil may be rolled
immediately after the seed is sown, unless the ground
be so wet as to cling to the rollei*. In a clay soil, de¬
lay rolling till the grain be above ground. Flax ought
to be rolled immediately after sowing. This should
never be neglected j for it makes the seed push equally,
and prevents after-growth ; the bad effect of which is
visible in every step of the process for dressing flax. The
first year’s crop of sown grasses ought to be rolled as
early the next spring as the ground will bear the horses.
It fi' xes all the roots precisely as in the case of wheat.
Rolling the second and third crops in loose soil is an
useful work j though not so essential as rolling the first
crop.
i5:
The roller. The roller is an instrument of capital use in husban¬
dry, though, till of late years, scarcely known in ordi¬
nary practice •, and where introduced, it is commonly
so slight as to have very little effect.
Rollers are of different kinds j stone, cast-iron, wood.
Each of these has its advantages. We would recom¬
mend these last, constructed in the following manner :
Take the body of a tree, six feet ten inches long, the
larger the better, made as near a perfect cylinder as
possible. Surround this cylinder with three rows of
Slliee, one row in the middle, and one at each end.
In the first place, rolling renders a loose soil more Effects
compact and solid j which encourages the growth ofidliogl
plants, by making the earth clap close to every part of
every root. Nor need we be afraid of rendering !the
soil too compact; for no roller that can be drawn by
two or four horses will have that effect. In the next
place, rolling keeps in the moisture, and hinders
drought to penetrate. This effect is of great moment.
In a dry season, it may have the difference of a good
crop, or no crop, especially where the soil is light. In
the third place, the rolling grass seeds, besides the fore¬
going advantages, facilitates the mowing for hay; and
k is to be hoped, that the advantage of this practice
will lead farmers to mow their corn also, which will in¬
crease the quantity of straw both for food and for the
dung-hill.
There is a small roller for breaking clods in land in¬
tended for barley. The common wray is, to break
clods with a mell ; which requires many hands, and is
a laborious work. This roller performs the work more
effectually, and at much less expence j let a harrowing
precede, which will break the clods a little ; and after
lying a day, or a day and a half, to dry, this roller will
dissolve them into powder. This, however, does not
supersede the use of the great roller after all the other
articles are finished, in order to make the soil compact,
and
IrtT. AGRICULTURE.
1 T“iturL«zg:idhVfcrTuirsme.t5 fe™'brr ieyrb°',er ^ ^ ^ t d;spos;t:o“ °f t,K
I b»n*7.one l,orse, is sufficient to break clodsZtare eaSvdis7 TlJt f*'1/ «™P™hended. Suppose tl,e circle O, of
' '--solved by pressure. The use of tMs rlr L Sparing four"S^cs'ffit ^! ""T N’ t0 ',e divided ''y'i"
land for barley is gaining ground daily, even amonf sented a^P T p/h eight eq»al segments as repre-^
nrrlinnrv imnoni-e    •! i i .1 » . ^ , • •^ie^ ^Ie same be done at the other end of
ic roller, and parallel lines be drawn from one corre¬
sponding point to the other the length of the roller:
mark the points with figures I, 2, 3, 4, c, 6 7 8 •
afterwards draw oblique lines, as from 1, at’the end of
U, to 2, at the other end, and from 2 to a, &c.
j o—uaiiy, even among
ordinary tenants, who have become sensible both of the
expence and toil of using wooden mells. But in a clay
soil, the clods are sometimes too firm, or too tough, to
be subdued by so light a machine. In that case, a roller
of the same size, but of a different construction, is ne-
cessary. It ought to be surrounded with circles of iron,
six inches asunder, and seven inches deep ; which will
cut even the most stubborn clods, and reduce them to
powder. Let not this instrument be considered as a
finical refinement. In a stiff clay it may make the dif¬
ference of a plentiful or scanty crop.
S5 7- Tl,e Fallow-cleansing Machine.
Tl allmv-
cl< sing
m; ine,
IX.
This was invented by Mr Aaron Ogden, a smith
at Ashton-under-Line, near Manchester in Lancashire.
It is intended for cleansing fallows from weeds, &c*
winch exhaust the riches of the soil. A, A, is the frame :*
B, the first roller; C, the second ditto ; in which last are
two cranks to move the arms, D, D, which work the rake
up the directors fixed on the plank E. The under side of
the lower ends or shares of these directors are sharp to
cut the clods and let them come on the upper side. Each
alternate heel of the share is longer than the intermedi¬
ate one, that they may not have more than one-half to
cut at once. At the back of the plank E are two screws
to let it loose, that the directors may be set higher or
lower.. The shares are to penetrate the ground'two or
three inches, to. raise the quicks till the rake 1 I
fetches them into the cart H, where a man must’ be
icady with a muck-hook to clear them backward when
gathered. In the rake I are two teeth for every space
of the directors, that stones, &c. may be gathered
without damage. K, K, are two staples, by which
the machine is drawn : under them at 6 are two hooks,
placed low to raise the machine in turning, by the help
of the traces; and the axletree of the cart should be
fixed upon a pin, that it may turn like a waggon.
I, F, are the triggers to throw the rake behind the
roots. The long teeth at G, G, are to cleanse the
roller C. I, I, is the rake which gathers up the weeds
into the cart II, and is drawn above the trigger F by
the working of the arms D, expressed by the dotted
lines at d d, 111. The triggers F, of which there is
one on each side, move on the pivots a; so that when
the points b of the rake I have been drawn up by the
directors h to the part marked c, the trigger, giving
way, permits the rake to pass ; but immediately fall¬
ing, the rake returns along the upper surface of the
trigger marked e e, and of course falls on the weeds
when it comes to the end, a little beyond the pivot a.
I he reader will observe, that the boarding is taken
away on one side, in the Plate, in order to give a more
perfect view of the inner parts of the machine; and
in fact it would perhaps be better if all the boarding,
marked L, L, L, was taken away, and frame-work
put in its stead. The cart PI might undoubtedly also
be made lighter. The wheels M, M, appear in the
1 late to be made of solid wood : but there is no ne-
Cess'ty they should be so. At N, is another view of
Vol. I. Part I. f
• - . —, „„„ * tu occ.; on
these oblique lines the spikes are to be fixed at equal
distances, in eight circles, described on the circumfe¬
rence of the roller. The spikes of the small roller B
are hxed in the same manner, except that the diameter
bemg smaller, there are only six instead of eight rows.
L is another view of the directors, with the plank E
on which they are fixed; and S is a section of a part
or the plank, with one of the directors as fixed, in
which may be seen the heel m, from whence to the
point of the share rc is a sharp cutting edge. See the
same letters in figure R. At T is one of the long
teeth to be seen at G; it is bent towards the roller C,
which it serves to cleanse. When the end of the rake
b, after rising above r, is pushed, by the motion of the
arms, D, I), along the upper part e, e, of the trigger
I, and comes to the end beyond a; as it falls, the
part of the arm marked 0 rests in the notch p, till it
is again raised by the motion of the roller C with the
rake. The roller C is to be one foot diameter, the
spike nine inches long, that they may go through the
furrow (if the soil should be loose) into the hard earth,
the more effectually to work the rake, which other¬
wise might be so overcharged as to cause the roller to
drag without turning. In the rake-ends b there should
be pivots, with rollers or pullers on, to go in the
groove, to take off the friction ; and they would iike-
wise take the triggers more surely as the rake comes
back. The rake should also be hung so far backward,
that when it is fallen, the arms of it may lie in the
same plane or parallel with the directors, on which it
comes up (which will require the frame to be two inches
longer in the model). This will cause the rake to fall
heavier, and drive the teeth into the roots, and bring
them up without shattering. These teeth must be
made of steel, very fine, and so long as to reach down
to the plank on which the directors are fixed, that is
to say, six inches long (the directors are also to be
made six inches broad above the plank). The rake-
head should also fall -a little before the crank is at its
extremity, which will cause the rake to push forward
to let the teeth come into the roots. The rake-teeth
must drop in the same plane with the roller and wheels,
or on the surface of the earth. No more space should
be given from the roller C to the long teeth at GG,
than that the rake may just miss the spikes of the rol¬
ler C and fall on the places before mentioned. As the
first roller B was intended to cleanse the second C more
than for any other use, itTnay be omitted when the ma¬
chine is made in large, as Mr Ogden has lately found
that the long teeth at GG answer the end alone, and
this renders the machine about a sixth shorter. Now7,
to suit any sort of earth, there should be to each ma¬
chine three planks, with directors at different spaces to
use occasionally ; in the first, the spaces between the di-
Y y rectors
354 A G R I C U
Instruments rectors should be eight inches wide, in the second six,
of and in the third four. This will answer the same end
Husbandry. as having so many machines.
1 ^—i As there may be some objections to the rake not leav¬
ing the roots when it has brought them up, Mr Ogden
has several methods of cleansing it j but as he would
make it as simple as possible, he chooses to let it be with¬
out them at present but suppose it should bring some
roots back again with it, it will probably lose them be¬
fore it gets back to the extremity ; whence they will lie
light, and be but of little detriment to the others com¬
ing up. Mr Ogden would have the first machine made
lour feet six inches wide, the teeth divided into equal
spaces, the outsides into half spaces.
8. The new-invented Patent Universal Sowing
Machine.
Universal This machine, whether made to be worked by hand,
sowing drawn by a horse, or fixed to a plough, and used with
macbine, •{. js extremely simple in the construction, and not
Plate X. jj^]e t0 put out of order ; as there is but one
^ movement to direct the whole, nor does it require any
skill in working. It will sow wheat, barley, oats, rye,
clover, cole-seed, hemp, flax, canary, rape, turnip, be¬
sides a great variety of other kinds of grain and seeds
broad-cast, with an accuracy hitherto unknown. It
is equally useful in the new husbandry, particularly
when fixed to a plough 5 it will then drill a more exten¬
sive variety of grain, pulse, and seed, through every
gradation, with regard to quantity, and deliver each
kind with greater regularity than any drill-plough
whatever. When used in this manner, it will likewise
he found of the utmost service to farmers who are par¬
tial to the old husbandry, as, among many other very
valuable and peculiar properties, it will not only sow
in the broad-cast way with the most singular exactness,
but save the expence of a seedsman; (the seed being
sown either over or under furrow at pleasure), and the
land ploughed, at the same operation.
Perhaps a fair and decisive experiment for ascertain¬
ing the superior advantage of broad-casting or drilling
any particular crop, was never before so practicable ; as
die seed may now be put in with the utmost degree of
regularity, in both methods of culture, by the same
machine ; consequently the seed will be sown in both
cases with equal accuracy, without which it is impos¬
sible to make a just decision.
The excellence of this machine consists in spreading
any given quantity of seed over any given number of
acres with a mathematical exactness, which cannot be
done by hand; by which a great saving may be made
in seeding the ground, as well as benefiting the ex¬
pected crop.
There has always been a difficulty in sowing turnip
seed with any degree of exactness, both from the mi¬
nuteness of the seed, and the smallness of the quantity
required to be sown on an acre. Here the machine
has a manifest advantage, as it may be set to sow the
least quantity ever required on an acre; and with an
accuracy the best seedsman can never attain to.
It will also sow clover, cole, flax, and every other kind
of small seed, with the utmost degree of regularity.
It will likewise broad-cast beans, pease, and tares, or
drill them with the greatest exactness, particularly when
constructed to be used with a plough.
LTD re. Practici
Another advantage attending the use of this machine In.truaJ
is, that the wind can have no effect on the falling of of
the seed. Husband]
Of the Machine when made to be used without
Plough, and to be drawn bij a Horse.—It may in
this case be made of different lengths at the desire of
the purchaser. The upper part AAA A, contains pig. 2.
the hoppers from which the grain or seed descends into
the spouts. The several spouts all rest upon a bar,
which hangs and plays freely by two diagonal support¬
ers BB ; a trigger fixed to this bar bears a catch-wheel;
this being fixed on the axle, occasions a regular and
continual motion, or jogging of the spouts, quicker or
slower in proportion to the pace of the person sowing
with it drives ; and of course, if he quickens his pace,
the bar will receive a greater number of strokes from
the catch-wheel, and the grain or seed will feed the
faster. If he drives slower, by receiving fewer strokes,
the contrary must take place. In going along the
side of a hill, the strength of the stroke is corrected by
a spring which acts with more or less power, in pro¬
portion as the machine is more or less from a horizon¬
tal position, and counteracts the difference of gravity in
the bar, so that it presses, in all situations, with a pro¬
per force against the catch-wheel. I he spring is un¬
necessary if the land be pretty level. At the bottom
of the machine is placed an apron or shelf in a sloping
position ; and the corn or seed, by falling thereon from
the spouts above, is scattered about in every direction
under the machine, and covers the ground in a most
regular and uniform manner.
To sow the corn or seed in drills, there are moveable
spouts (see fig. 10.), which are fixed on or taken off
at pleasure, to direct the seed from the upper spout to
the bottom of the furrow.
The machine is regulated for sowing any particular
quantity of seed on an acre by a brass slider, A, fig. 7.
fixed by screws against a brass bridge on each of the
spouts. The machine is prevented from feeding while
turning at the ends, by only removing the lever E,
fig. 2. out of the channel G, to another at H, on the
right hand of it, which carries back the bar from the
catch-wheel, and occasions the motion of the spouts to
cease, and at the same time brings them upon a level
by the action of the diagonal supporters ; so that no
corn or seed can fall from them.
The machine in this form is particularly useful for
broad-casting clover upon barley or wheat ; or for sow¬
ing any other kind of seed, where it is necessary that
the land should first be harrowed exceedingly fine and
even.
Manner of using the Machine, when drawn by a
Horse.—Place the machine about two feet from the
ends of the furrows where you intend it shall begin to
sow. Fill the hoppers with seed, and drive it forwards
with the outside wheel in the first furrow. When you
are at the end of the length, at the opposite side of the
field, lift the lever E, fig. 2. into the channel H, and
the machine will instantly stop sowing. Drive it on
about two feet, and then turn. Fill the hoppers again
if necessary ; then remove the lever back again into the
channel G, and in returning, let the outside wheel of
the machine go one furrow within the track which
was made by it, m passing from the opposite end ; as
for example, if the wheel passed down the eighth fur¬
row
J rt I. A G R I C U
I ruraentsrow from the outside of the field, let it return in the
of seventh ; and in every following length let the outside
I bandry. wheel always run one furrow within the track made by
^ the same wheel: because the breadth sown is about nine
inches less than the distance between the wheels.
Let the machine be kept in a perpendicular situa¬
tion. If the farmer wishes to sow more or less seed on
any one part of the field than the other, it is only rais¬
ing the handles a little higher, or sinking them a little
lower than usual, and it will occasion a sufficient alte¬
ration j and should the last turn be less in breadth than
the machine, those spouts which are not wanted may be
taken up from the bar, and prevented from feeding, by
turning the nob above them.
Also, when the land required to be sown has what is
called a vent, that is, when the sides of the field run in
an oblique line to the furrows, which by this means
are unequal in length j the spouts must be taken up or
let down in succession by turning the knobs, as that
part of the machine where they are placed arrives at
the ends of the furrows. This is done while the machine
is going forwards.
If the land be tolerably level, the machine may be
fixed by the screw in the front, and the machine may
then be used by any common harrow boy.
Method of regulating the Machine.—In each spout
is fixed a bridge (see fig. 7.), with an aperture in it, B,
for the grain or seed to pass through. This aperture is
enlarged or contracted by a slider, A, which passes over
it; and, when properly fixed for the quantity of seed
designed to be sown on an acre, is fastened by means
of two strong screws firmly against the bridge. This
is made use of in sowing all kinds of seed, where it is
required to sow from one bushel upwards on an acre.
To sow one, two, three gallons, or any of the inter¬
mediate quantities, as of clover, cole-seed, &e. the
brass plate, fig. 6. is placed between the bridge and the
slider, with the largest aperture B downwards, which
aperture is enlarged or contracted by the slider as be¬
fore. To sow turnips, the same plate is placed between
the bridge and the slider, with its smallest aperture A
downwards, and the hollow part about the same aper¬
ture inwards.
Fig. 8. is a view of the regulator, by which the
apertures in the several spouts are all set exactly alike,
with the utmost ease, to make them feed equally. The
extreme height of the largest aperture is equal to the
breadth AB, and the breadth at C is equal to the
height of the smallest aperture used, viz. that for tur¬
nips. The side AC is divided into 60 equal parts, and
on it moves the slider or horse D; which being placed
L T U R E, 355
at any particular degree, according to the quantity of instruments
seed required to be sown on an acre, is fixed upon it, of
by a screw on the side of the slider or horse. When Huib.mdrV.
this is done, the end of the regulator is put through the J
aperture in the bridge or plate (whichever is intended
to be used), and the slider against the bridge in the
spout, raised by it, till it stops against the horse on the
regulator : then the slider is fastened against the bridge
firmly by the two screws ; care being taken at the same
time that it stand nearly square.
By this means the spouts (being all fixed in the same
manner) will feed equally.
It is easy to conceive that the size of the apertures,
and consequently the quantity of seed to be sown on an
acre, may be regulated with a far greater accuracy than
is required in common practice.
The spouts may be regulated with the utmost nicety,
in five minutes, to sow each particular seed, for the
whole season. But a little practice will enable any per¬
son, who possesses but a very moderate capacity, to
make the spouts feed equally, even without using the
regulator (b).
, Of the Machine, when made to he used by Hand. 
Ihe difference of the machine in this case is, that it is
made lighter, with but three spouts, without shafts,
and is driven forwards by the handles. It hath also a
bolt in front, which being pushed in by the thumb, re¬
leases the machine; so that it can then easily be placed
m a perpendicular position. This alteration is neces¬
sary to keep the handles of a convenient height, in
sowing up and down a hill, where the slope is consider¬
able ; and is done while the machine is turning at the
end of the length. rIhe method of regulating and
using it is the same as when made to be drawn by a
horse.
Of the Machine, when constructed to be used ivith a
Plough.—This is, without doubt, the most useful appli¬
cation of the machine ; and it can be fixed without dif¬
ficulty to any kind of plough, in the same manner as to
that represented in fig. 1.
The advantages arising from the use of it are great
and numerous ; for, beside the increase in the crop,
which will be ensured by the seeds being broad-cast
with a mathematical nicety, a large proportion of seed
(the value of which alone, in a few months, will amount
to more than the price of the machine) and the seeds¬
man’s labour will be saved. The seed may likewise be
sown either under or over furrow; or one cast each
way, as is practised by some farmers. The seeds also,
being cast by the machine upon the fresh ploughed
land, may be immediately harrowed in, before the
Y y 2 mould
(b) Proper directions are given with each machine for using it, as also for fixing the sliders to sow any parti¬
cular quantity of corn or seed on an acre, so as to enable any person to set the spouts.
, The prices of the machine (exclusive of the packing cases) are as follow. If constructed to be used with a
single-furrow plough ; the wheel, with the axle and cheeks steeled, strap, regulator, brass-plates for broad-cast-
mg or drilling turnips, lucerne, tares, wheat, barley, &c. &c. &c. and every article necessary for fixing it inclu¬
ded, three guineas and a half. If made with a spring (for sowing on the side of a hill, where the slope is consi¬
derable), but which is very rarely necessary, five shillings more. If made to be fixed to any double-furrow
plough, four guineas and a half.
The large machine, fig. 2. when made to broad-cast seven furrows at a time and to be drawn by a horse, eight
guineas and a half. If constructed to sow five furrows at a time, and to be used by hand, six guineas. These
are also five shillings more if made with a spring.
356 A G R I C U
Instruments mould has lost any part of its moisture; which in a dry
of season will greatly promote the crop. In drilling any
Husbandry, 0f grain, pulse, or seed, it possesses every property
'l"  that can be wished for in the best drill-plough, nor will
it (as most of them do) bruise the seed, or feed irre¬
gularly. The construction of the machine is the same
as the large ones, except being made with one hopper
and spout instead of several, and the apron moveable
instead of being fixed, as may be seen by inspecting
fig. 4. The only alteration necessary to make the
machine broad-cast or drill is, in the former case to
place the apron B, fig. 1. at the bottom of the ma¬
chine, upon the hooks FF, sloping either towards the
furrows or the unploughed land, according as it is in¬
tended to sow the seed either over or under furrow.
Whenever the apron is required to be shitted, it is
done in less than a second of time; as it only requires
to be moved up or down with the hand, when a catch
fixes it.
To prepare it for drilling, instead of the apron, place
the long spout, fig. 10. upon the brackets, on the front
of the machine, by the ears AA, to receive the seed
from the upper spout, and fasten the lower end of it,
by a small cord, to that hook upon which the apron is
hung for broad-casting which is next the plough (see
fig. 3.) ; the seed will then be directed by the long
spout, to the centre of the furrow, near the heel of the
plough. The spring for correcting the strength of the
stroke, is necessary only when they are required to go
along the side of a considerable declivity. The ma¬
chine, when fixed to a plough, does not require the
smallest degree of skill in using, as nothing is necessary
but to keep the hopper filled, which will contain a suf¬
ficient quantity of seed to go upwards of 140 rods, be¬
fore it will want refilling, when three bushels and a
half are sown on an acre. The accuracy with which
it will broad-cast, may in some measure be conceived,
by considering that the seed regularly descends upon
the apron or shelf, and is from thence scattered upon
the ground, in quantity exactly proportioned to the
speed of the plough : also that each cast spreads to the
third furrow ; and by this means shuts upon the last.
In this manner it is continually filling up till the whole
field is completely covered ; so that it is impossible to
leave the smallest space without its proper quantity of
seed.
When the plough is wanted for any other purpose,
the machine, with the wheel at the heel of the plough
for giving it motion, can be removed or replaced at any
time in five minutes.
Fig. 11. represents the machine fixed to a double¬
furrow creasing plough, and prepared for drilling. As
this plough may not be generally known, it will not be
improper to observe, that it is chiefly used for creasing
the land with furrows (after it has been once ploughed
and harrowed) ; which method is necessary when the
seed is to be sown broad-cast upon land that has been a
clover ley, &c. because, if the seed be thrown upon the
rough furrows, a considerable part of it will fall be¬
tween them, and be unavoidably lost, by lying too
deep buried in the earth. This mode answers ex¬
tremely well, and partakes of both methods of culture ;
the seed, though sown broad-cast, falling chiefly into
the furrows.
L T U R E. Practice
The machine is very useful for sowing in this man- jn5treme|i
ner ; as the seed is broad-cast, with an inconceivable of
regularity, at the time the land is creased. The ad- Hwlaadij
vantages it likewise possesses for drilling all sorts of '“"“Y'-’
grain or seed with this plough, are too evident to need
mentioning.
The machine, when constructed to be used with a
double-furrow plough, is made with two upper and
two long spouts for drilling, two aprons for broad¬
casting, and with a double hopper; but in other re¬
spects the same as when intended for a single-furrow
plough : it is used in all cases with the greatest ease
imaginable.
The interval between the points of the two shares of
a creasing plough is usually ten inches; the beam about
nine feet long ; and the whole made of a light con¬
struction.
A more particular explanation of the figures.—Fig. 1. p]ate ^
The machine fixed to a Kentish turn-wrest plough. A,
The machine. B, The apron upon which the seed falls
and rebounds upon the land, in broad-casting. C, Lid to
cover the hopper. D, Wheel at the heel of the plough.
E, Scrap. FF, Hooks, upon which the apron turns by
a pivot on each. G, Stay, to keep the machine steady;
H, Lever, to prevent it from sowing.
Fig. 2. The machine constructed to be drawn by a
horse. AAAA, The hoppers. BB, The diagonal
supporters. CCCC, The upper spouts. ID, The apron
or shelf upon which the seed falls upon the upper spouts.
E, The lever, which carries back the bar, and prevents
the machine from sowing. FF, Staples upon the han¬
dles, through which the reins pass, for the man who
conducts the machine, to direct the horse by. I,
Screw', to fix the machine occasionally. N. B. The
knobs (by turning which each particular spout may
be taken from off the bar, and thereby prevented from
feeding) are over each upper spout; but, to prevent
confusion, are not lettered in the Plate.
Fig. 3. is the same machine with that in fig. I. The
dotted lines, expressing the situation of the long spout,
when the apron is removed, and the machine adapted
for drilling.
Fig. 4. Also the same machine, with the front laid
open to show the inside. A, The catch-wheel fixed
upon the axle. BB, The axle upon which the machine
hangs between the handles of the plough. C, The
pulley, by which the strap from the wheel at the heel
of the plough turns the catch-wheel. D, The bar,
upon which the upper spout rests, suspended by the
diagonal supporters EE, bearing against the catch-
wheel by the trigger F, and thereby kept in motion
while the plough is going. G, The apron in a sloping
position, upon vfhich the corn or seed falls from the
upper spout, and is scattered by rebounding upon the
land. It turns upon pivots, and by this means throws
the seed either towards the right hand or left at plea¬
sure.
Fig. 5. The upper spout.
Fig. 6. The plate which is placed between the bridge
and the slider, for sowing small seeds. The aperture
A being downwards for sowing turnips ; the larger one
B downwards for sowing clover, &c.
Fig. 7. The bridge, fixed in the upper spouts. A,
The slider, which contracts or enlarges the different
apertures.
h
w
it
!
'll
c
1
i rt I. A G R I C
fLaration apertures. B, The aperture in the bridge, through
Land, which the seed passes, when sowing any quantity from
1 one bushel upwards on an acre.
Fig. 8. Ine regulator, made of brass. D, The slider
or horse which moves upon it, and is fixed at any parti¬
cular degree by a screw in its side.
Fig. 9. represents the movement in the machine fig. 2.
AAA A, Gleets, between which the upper spouts rest.
BE, I he diagonal supporters, by which the bar with
the upper spouts hang. C, The catch-wheel. DD,
The axle. F, I he trigger upon the bar, which bears
against the catch-wheel. FF, Stays from the back of
the machine, by which the bar plays.
Fig. 10. I he long spout, AA, The ears by which
it hangs.
Sect. II. Of preparing Land for cropping, by remov¬
ing obstructions and bringing the Soil into a proper
state. 1
1. Of Removing Stones.
. 5s
h rtance It is of the utmost importance to have land effec-
* Zl's tUaliy cleared stones, before undertaking any agri-
es‘ cultural operation upon it; for by means of them there
is frequently more expence incurred in one season, by
the breaking of ploughs and the injury suffered by the
cattle and harness, than would remove the evil. It
has also been observed that the soil round a large stone
is commonly the best in the field. It may be consider¬
ed as purchased at a low rate by removing the stone.
At any rate, such stones must be removed before the
ground can be properly cultivated. For whether a
large stone occupy the surface, or lie beneath it, but
within reach of the plough, a considerable space a-
round it cannot be stirred by that instrument, and is
therefore useless. Even the rest of the field where
stones abound must be laboured in a more slow and te¬
dious manner, on account of the caution necessary to
avoid the danger which they produce.
The stones which impede the improvement of land
are, 1st, loose stones, or such as are thrown up to the
surface by the plough ; and, 2dly, sitfast stones, which
are either upon or immediately below the surface, but
9 are of such magnitude that they cannot be stirred by
■n in°f t*16 plough. I he first kind of stones may usually be
•0: ,"S removed by being gathered and carried off.
'Vhen. land is laid down for hay, such stones are
often improperly thrown in heaps into the furrows,
where they ever after continue to interrupt the plough,
or are dragged again by the harrows over the land.
Instead of proceeding in this manner, they ought to be
carried wholly off the field in carts at the dryest season
ot the year, and placed in situations in which they may
be rendered useful to the farm. In this point of view,
stones are sometimes of considerable value for making
concealed drains, or for making and repairing the roads
through a farm, and also for the repairs of some kinds
of fences.
The only writer upon agriculture who has in any
case objected to the propriety of clearing land of small
stones, is probably Lord Karnes. In some parts of
the south of Scotland, and particularly in Galloway,
the sod is said to be composed in a great measure of
gfavel, and of stones of a smooth surface, as if worn
U L T U R E. 3ST
liy the running of water. After being ploughed, the Preparaiioa
e surface of every field appears to be composed of of Land.
loose stones lying almost in contact with each other. ' V—-1
borne industrious farmers, with great labour, collected
and removed the stones from a few of their fields with
a view to their improvement: and the result is said to
nave been, that the succeeding crops were wholly blight-
e in t le tender blade, and never came to maturity.
1 be stones upon the surface were supposed to have pre¬
vented the exhalation of the moisture from the shallow
and extremely porous and open soil which they cover¬
ed : and they were also supposed to have contributed to
toster the young plants, by reflecting powerfully from
their smooth surfaces the sun’s rays in every direction
around them : but when they were removed, the soil,
in that bleak climate, became at once too cold and too
dry for any purpose of agriculture. The farmers, there¬
fore, who had with so much toil and cost removed
the stones from part of their lands, could think of no
better remedy than, with equal toil, to bring them all
back again, and carefully replace them upon their fields.
It is added, that the soil immediately resumed its wont¬
ed fertility. The truth of this anecdote has never been
contested j and there is no doubt that it has long been
current .in the south of Scotland, both previous to its
publication by Lord Karnes, and after that period, a-
mong a class of persons who are very unlikely to have
been acquainted with his writings. It is possible that
the replacing the stones was the best remedy for the
want of fertility in the soil which its cultivators had
within their reach: but it is probable that they might
have found it of more importance to have covered the
surface of their land with a substantial coat of clay
marl, or even with almost any kind of earth or clay
obtained from the bogs and sw’amps that usually abound
in these countries, providing only they could obtain a
quantity of lime to add to it. In this way, possessing
land whose bottom was very pervious to moisture, they
might have obtained a soil suited to every purpose of
agriculture; whereas, in its present state, it must re¬
main for ever unfit to be touched with the scythe.
TS ith regard to large or sitfast stones which cannot
be removed by any ordinary effort, they usually either
appear fully above the surface or are concealed imme¬
diately under it. lor the sake of discovering con¬
cealed stones, it is said to be a custom in Yorkshire,
when they intend to reduce waste and rude land under
the plough, in the first place, carefully to go over the
whole surface with sharp prongs, which at the distance
of every twelve or fourteen inches they thrust into the
ground to the depth of above a foot, and wherever a
stone meets the prong, they mark the spot with a twig,
a bit of wood, or some other object. They afterwards
trace all the marks, and remove every stone before they
touch the land with the plough,..
Concerning the modes which have been adopted for
removing large stones out of the way of the plough ;
one of the simplest is the following : A pit or hole is
dug besiue the stone, 16 or iff inches deeper than the
height or thickness of the stone. A number of men
are then assembled, who tumble it into the pit. It is
immediately covered up with a part of the earth that
came out of the hole ; and the rest of the earth is scat¬
tered over the field, or employed in bringing to a level
with the rest of the soil the spot where the stone for¬
merly*/
358
AGRICULTURE.
Preparationmerly lay. As the stone now remains at a greater
.of Land, depth than the plough can reach, it is no longer an
impediment to agriculture. In performing this opera¬
tion, however, the workmen must attend to the nature
of the soil, and take care that the weight of the stone
do not bring down the side of the pit, which might he
attended with dangerous consequences. To obviate
any hazard of this kind, it is always proper to have at
hand a stout plank, which ought to be laid across the
pit or hole, immediately under the nearest corner or
edge of the stone. With this precaution, a single man
may usually perform the whole operation of burying
stones or pieces of rock of very great size and weight.
By the above operation, however, the stones are ut¬
terly lost ; whereas they may sometimes be of consider¬
able value for fences or other buildings. When this
is the case, they must be broken to pieces before they
are removed. With this view it is to be observed,
that a great variety of stones have some thin veins,
which being found, wedges can be driven into them
by large hammers, so that they may be easily broken.
For such operations spades and pick axes are necessary
to clear away the earth, and a large and a small lever
to turn the stones out of the ground. Hammers and
Wedges are also requisite, with carts to remove the
fragments from the field. In the Statistical Account
of Scotland, vol. xix. p. 565. parish of Maderty, we
are told that “ the Rev. Mr Ramsay, the present in¬
cumbent, who occupies a piece ot land full of sitfast
stones, constructed a machine for the purpose of raising
them. It operates on the principles of the pulley and
cylinder, or wheel and axis, and has a power as one
to 24 ; it is extremly simple, being a triangle, on two
sides of which the cylinder is fixed j it can be easily
wrought and carried from place to place by three men.
A low four-wheeled machine of a strong construction
is made to go under the arms of the triangle, to receive
the stone when raised up. This machine has been al¬
ready of great use in clearing several fields of lax-ge
stones in this place and neighbourhood.”
It is evident, that the machine here described is
only valuable for getting stones out of the way in the
gross and unbroken ; and, accordingly, we learn that
stone fences are almost unknown in the parish of Ma¬
derty.
Where stones are valuable, therefore, and the opera¬
tion of breaking them with hammers and wedges is
found impracticable or too laborious, it will be neces¬
sary to blast them with gunpowder. To perform this
operation propexdy, however, considerable experience
is requisite ; for it is said, that a skilful workman can
in most instances, by the depth and position of the bore,
contrive to rend stones into three equal pieces without
causing their fragments to fly about. In time of war,
however, the expence of gunpowder is apt to become
very great. With a view to diminish the cost of that
article, it has been suggested, that it is proper to per¬
form the operation not with gunpowder alone, but
with that article of a good quality, mixed up with
about one-third of its bulk of quicklime in fine powder.
It is said that this composition possesses as much force
as an equal quantity of pure gunpowder, and it is even
alleged, that the proportion of quicklime may be in¬
creased with advantage. How the strength of gun¬
powder should be so much augmented by the addition
3
Practicd
of quicklime, we do not know. Perhaps it may addprep^!
to the force of the explosion by undergoing a chemical ofLancj!
decomposition of its parts, as it has of late been sus-' v-
pected, that this mineral is by no means a simple or un¬
compounded body.
Where a field is very greatly overrun with conceal¬
ed stones, the most effectual method of getting quit of
them, and of rendering it permanently arable, consists
of trenching it wholly by the spade. Nor is this al¬
ways the most expensive mode of proceeding. The
trenching can be done at the rate of from 3k to 4k
per Scots acre, which is one-fourth larger than an Eng¬
lish acre, allowing at the same time the stones or their
price at the quarry to the labourex-s. In this way, the
expence of ploughing the field is saved. The soil is
deepened to the utmost extent of which it is capable,
and can be laid out in the form most convenient for
cultivation. In Dr Anderson’s report of the state of
agriculture in Aberdeenshii’e, it is said that the expence
of trenching an acre to the depth of from 12 to 14
inches, where the stones are not very large and nume¬
rous, runs from 4d. to 6d. a fall* which is from 2l. 13s.
to 4k per Scots acre. Ground that has been formerly
trenched, is sometimes done as low as 2d. yxer fall, or ih
6s. 6d. per acre. Hence, in consequence of the practice
of trenching ground by the spade being not unfrequent
in Aberdeenshire, workmen have become expert, and
by competition have rendered the price extremely mo¬
derate. It is to be wished that the same practice were
more frequent in other parts of the country, as it
would have a tendency to introduce a taste for the
most correct and perfect of all modes of labouring
the soil, and would also occupy a considerable part
of the population of the country, in the most in¬
nocent and healthful of all employments, that of agri¬
culture.
2. Of Draining.
160
It has already been remarked, that the presence oflmpoitat
moistui-e is of the utmost importance to the success of ve-of drainli |
getation. At the same time, as must necessarily happen
with every powerful and active agent, the too great a-
bundance of water is no less pernicious to many plants,
than an entire want of it. When it stagnates upon the
soil, it decomposes or rots the roots and stems of the most
valuable vegetables. Even when it does not remain on
a spot round the whole year, its temporary stagnation
during the winter renders the land unproductive. Sea¬
sons of tillage are often lost, and in wet years the crop
must always be scanty and precarious. When in grass,
the land can only pi’oduce the coarsest and most hardy
vegetables, which can resist the chill or cold state ot
the soil, or the fermentation which is often produced
by sudden warmth while the water remains upon the
ground. Hence arises the importance of draining, by
which arable land is rendered manageable, is made
to dry gradually and early in the spring, and the corn
is increased in quantity and weight j and by which, m
pasture lands, the grasses are made to change their co¬
lour and to lose their coarse appearance, and the finer
kinds of plants are enabled to flourish. Even the cli¬
mate is, by means of draining, very considerably im¬
proved. It is x’endered less cold during the winter,
and by diminishing in hot weather the exhalations
from the soil, its salubrity both to animal and vege¬
table
D ns are
oj or
In w.
>3
(I !W
Jr s.
1 irt J. A G R I C
Jparationtable life is greatly increased. Every kind of grain
Land comes earlier to maturity. The harvest is less preca-
1 rious, and the diseases are banished which arose from a
damp soil and humid atmosphere.
I disrcn• T,1e watfr. which stagnates upon the surface of a
d d wet sod may originate from two causes. It may descend
lijain os upon it in the form of rain, or it may ascend from
h pnngs. springs or reservoirs of water in the "bowels of the
earth. The rules for draining land which is rendered
too wet for the purposes of agriculture are different, ac¬
cording to the causes which occasion the wetness. We
shall first take notice of the most approved modes of
draining, when the excessive moisture is occasioned by
rain water stagnating upon the land *, and we shall af¬
terwards take notice of the plan of draining to be adopt¬
ed, when the wetness arises from springs or water ari¬
sing out of the earth.
To relieve land from rain water that is apt to stag¬
nate upon it, two kinds of drains have been adopted.
One of these is called ope/i drains, from their being
exposed to view in their whole length. The other
kind receives the appellation of hollow drains, from
their being covered, so that their existence is not ap¬
parent to a stranger, nor is any part of the land lost in
consequence of their being made. Hollow draining is
sometimes avoided on account of the great immediate
expence with which it is attended, and in some situations
it is altogether inadequate to the object in view. There
are some soils that being chiefly composed of a stiff clay,
j]' i]",ap' P088638 80 great a degree of tenacity as to retain water
upon every trifling depression of their surface, till eva¬
poration carries it off. It is in vain to attempt to
drain such soils by hollow channels below ground, as
the water will never be able to filtrate through the
soil so as to reach the drain. In such situations, there¬
fore, open draining is the only mode that can be adopt¬
ed for clearing the soil of surface water.
It also sometimes happens that, on ordinary soils,
hollow 'drains would speedily be rendered useless.
Ibis must take place where the admission of surface
water cannot be avoided, and, from the figure of the ad¬
joining lands, must be very greatly augmented in time
of heavy rains. In such cases, a close or hollow drain
would speedily be choked up by the sand and soil
brought down by sudden and violent torrents. In these
4 situations, therefore, open drains can alone prove useful.
of Soils formed of a tenacious clay can only be drained
‘ 31 s- by being laid up properly in ridges which are high in
the middle, and have furrows at each side for carrying
ofl the water. The great art of preserving land of
this description, therefore, free from superfluous moi¬
sture, consists of laying out every field in such a direc¬
tion as that all the furrows between the ridges may
have a gradual descent to a common ditch or drain for
carrying ofl the water. Where at any particular spot
the regularity of the descent is interrupted, cross fur¬
rows must he kept open with the same view. The
ridges must also be laid up in such a form as to allow
the water to descend from the summit in the middle to
the furrows on each side. If the ridges, however, are
too high in the qentre, there will be a danger that in
heavy rains the Soil may be washed from the summit
down into the furrows, which would produce the double
fcvil of impoverishing the centre of every ridge, and of
U L T U R E. 359
drain thelam!.9 ^urro"s’ ailJ them unfit to
The distinguished success of the Flemish husband- 1 
men and also of the farmers in the central counties of
’ ng an where this kind of soil abounds, sufficiently
emonstiates the practicability of preserving it in a due
( egiee of diyness for the most valuable purposes of agri-
cu tuie. In these English counties, and in Flanders,
the general mode of drying land consists of ploughing
it up in high and broad ridges, from 20 to 30 and even
40 feet wide, with the centre or crown three or four-
feet higher than the furrows. By attentively preserv-
mg the furrows in good order, and free from stagnating
water the land is kept in a dry state, and all kinds of
crops flourish.
The mode of ridging and cross-furrowing the clay DrainiLh,
soil of the Carse of Cowrie, Perthshire, has been thus the Car* of
described by George Paterson, Esq. of Castlehuntly in Cowrie,
that county. I here are certain large common drains
which pass through the district in different directions,
sufficiently capacious to receive the water drained from
the fields by the ditches which surround them, and of
such a level as to carry it clear off, and to empty
their contents into the river Tay. There are also
ditches which surround every farm, or pass through
them as their situation may require, but in such man¬
ner as to communicate with every field upon the farm.
Ihese ditches are made from two to four feet wide at
top, a ml fiom one and a half to one foot at bottom ; a
shape which prevents their sides from falling in : but
even then they must be cleansed and scoured every
year at a considerable expence. If the fields be of an
uniform level surface, the common furrows between
the ridges, provided they he sufficiently deepened at
their extremities, will serve to lay the grounds dry j
but, as it seldom happens that any field is so complete¬
ly free of inequalities, the last operation, after it is
sown and harrowed in, is to draw a furrow with the
plough through every hollow in the field which lies in
such a direction that it can be guided through them,
so as to make a free communication with any of the
ditches which surround the farm, or with any of the
furrows between the ridges winch may serve as a con¬
ductor to carry the water off to the surrounding ditches.
When this track is once opened with the plough, it
is widened, cleared out, and so shaped with the spade,
that it may run no risk of filling up. Its width is from
six inches to a foot according to its depth, which must
depend upon the level of the field ; but the breadth of
a spade at bottom is a good general rule. It frequent¬
ly happens that there are inequalities in several parts
of the same field, which do not extend across it, or
which do not pass through it in any direction that a
plough can follow ; but which may extend over two
ridges, or one ridge, or eveir part of a ridge. Such
require an open communication to be made with any
furrow, which may serve as a conductor to carry ofT
the water, which is always made with the spade. All
these open communications are here called gaas, and to
keep them perfectly clear is a very essential object of
every Carse farmer’s attention.
It is the general practice in the Carse to have head-
ridges, as they are called, at the two extremities of
each field j that is, the ground upon which the plough
turns,,
166
Rules for
making o-
■pen drains.
360 A G R I C
Freparation turns, is laicl up as a cross ridge, higher in the middle
of Land, and falling off on each side, so that a gaa is made in the
'""" v 1 course of the inner furrow with which the whole fur¬
rows between the longitudinal ridges communicate,
and into which they pour all their surface water, which
is caried off by gaas or openings cut through the head
ridges, and emptied into the adjoining ditches which
convey the water to the main drain. Besides all this,
an experienced Carse farmer takes care that his lands
be carefully ploughed, and laid up equally without in¬
equalities that can hold water, and that the ridges he
gradually rounded, so that the surface water may nei¬
ther lodge nor run so rapidly off as to injure the equal
fertility of the field.
With regard to the general rule for making open
drains, it may be observed that their depth and wide¬
ness must always in some measure be left to the judge¬
ment of each particular husbandman, that they may be
varied according to the variety of soils and situations.
Upon the whole, however, the width at bottom ought
to be one third of that at top, that, by being sufficient¬
ly sloped, the sides may be in no danger of falling in.
The fall or declivity also should be such as may carry
off the water without stagnation, and along with it
any grass and other loose and light substances that may
get into the ditch. At the same time, care ought to
be taken to lead the drain in such a direction down
any steep declivity that may occur in an oblique man¬
ner, that the water may not have too rapid a motion,
as it would otherwise be apt to form inequalities in the
bottom, and to wear down the sides. In moss and very
soft soils, drains require to be of considerable width, on
account of their tendency to fill up 3 and their breadth
at top must exceed that at the bottom in a greater de¬
gree than the proportion already mentioned. In all
cases in which a ditch is intended for a drain only,
and not to be used as a fence, none of the earth thrown
out of it ought to be allowed to remain upon the sides,
but should be spread abroad upon the land, or used in
filling up the nearest holes. When this is not done,
the utility of the drain is injured by the surface water
being prevented from reaching it, and by the tendency
which this weight of earth has to cause the sides to
fall in 3 the difficulty of scouring or cleaning it is thus
also much increased. If it be necessary, however, to
use the ditch, and the earth thrown out of it, as a fence,
a deep furrow ought to be made along the back of the
mound of earth, with openings in convenient places
into the ditch for transmitting to it the water collected
in the furrow.
In plantations, open drains are the only kind that
can be used, as the roots of the trees would be apt to
choke up covered rains. In pastures, small and nar¬
row open cuts, made with the plough or otherwise, are
often extremely useful, to carry off stagnating water
and a part of the rain as it falls. The only objection
to them is, that they are easily stopt by the trampling
of the cattle ; but, on the other hand, they are easily
restored. Concerning all open drains, indeed, it must
be remembered, that they require to be cleaned out at
least once a year 3 and wdien this process is neglected
for any length of time, it becomes more difficult, and
the drains lose their effect. Hence, though open drains
are originally cheaper, yet, by the necessity of annual
repairs, they sometimes become ultimately more expen-
U L T U R E. Practic.
sive than covered or hollow drains, to the consideration Prepay
of which we shall next proceed. of Lan
Hollow drains, in which the water is allowed to—v—
flow along a bed of loose stones, or other porous mate- i67
rials, while theyv*are covered with a bed of earth in
which the operations of the plough can proceed, bear hollow
a near resemblance to that part of the constitution of drains,
nature by which water flows in various channels along
beds of porous strata in the bowels of the earth, and
coming to the surface in various situations, supplies
springs and the constant flow of rivulets and of the lar¬
gest sti-eams. The practice of hollow draining was
known in a very remote antiquity. It is said that the
present Persians are supplied by means of hollow drains
with water in their most fertile fields, though they
know not from whence the water is brought, and are
unacquainted with the arts by which a more ingenious
people in former times contrived to deprive one part of
the soil of its superfluous moisture with a view to enrich
another. The ancient Homan writers, Cato, Palladius,
Columella, and Pliny, particularly mention the prac¬
tice of hollow draining. They knew the kind of soils
in which these drains are useful, and the propriety of
directing them obliquely across the slope of the field.
They filled them half way up with small stones, and for
want of these with willow poles, or even with any
coarse twigs or other similar materials twisted into
a rope. They also fortified the heads of their drains
with large stones, and their mouths or outlets with a
regular building 3 and they carried the whole drain to
the depth of three or four feet.
As already mentioned, hollow drains are of little va¬
lue in a soil that consists of a stiff’ clay, and are chiefly
useful where, from whatever cause the wetness may re¬
sult, the soil is sufficiently porous to allow the moisture
to percolate to an internal drain.
If the field proposed to be drained lie on a declivity,Ru]es
great care should be taken to make hollow drains in a making
direction sufficiently horizontal to prevent a too rapid hollow
fall of the water, which might wear the bottom uneven,^™11"
and have the effect to choak, or, as it is sometimes cal¬
led, to blow up the drain, whereby, in certain spots in
the field artificial springs would be formed.
Concerning the season for executing drains, dis¬
cordant opinions are entertained. Some prefer win¬
ter, others summer. Where much work is to be ac¬
complished, a choice of seasons may not indeed be left
to the husbandman. Some farmers, however, when
they have the choice of time, always prefer summer for
this employment, being then able to execute the cuts
in a neater manner, without that kneading of the soil
which takes place in winter, which they think hurts
the usefulness of the drain, by ever after preventing the
water from easily finding its way to it 3 besides that it
is easier to bring the stones or other materials to the
spot in summer than in winter. Others, however, pre¬
fer draining in winter, because in the case of a clay
soil, the labour is at that season much easier 3 and also
because labourers are then usually most easy to be ob¬
tained.
The depth and width usually adopted for hollow
draining is very various, according to the nature of the
soil and the situation of the field. When the prac¬
tice first came into general use, three feet is said to
have been the common depth 3 but, for many years past,
16$
l|rtl. A G R I C
jiiaratiouit is said that hollow drains seldom exceed 30 or
[Land. 32 inches, and that more drains are of two feet, or 26
u -v—' inches deep, than of any other. One general rule,
however, cannot he neglected with safety, that the
depth must be sufficient to prevent the materials with
which the drain is filled from being affected by the
feet o! horses in a furrow while ploughing; twenty-
four inches is perhaps too little for this purpose. A
horse’s foot in a furrow is usually at the depth of four
inches or more. If ten inches additional be allowed
for the materials employed in filling the drain, there
will remain only nine or ten inches to support the foot
of a horse exerting his strength in the act of plough¬
ing, which upon a porous soil seems scarcely sufficient.
What are called main drains, which are those intend¬
ed to receive the water of several other drains, must
ahvays be somewhat deeper than the rest, having more
water to convey. As to the wideness of hollow drains,
most farmers have of late been solicitous to render
them as narrow as possible, because by this means a
great saving takes place of the materials used for filling
them. If the stones are coupled at the bottom of the
dram, that is, made to lean toward each other, so as to
constitute a triangle, of which the bottom of the drain
forms the base, the width need not be greater than one
loot. I hat the ditches or cuts which are meant to be
converted into hollow drains may be executed with neat¬
ness and care, a point of much importance to their use¬
fulness, it is thought prudent that the workmen should
not be paid according to the extent of ground which
they open, but as day labourers. This, however, is
more particularly the case with regard to filling the
drams, an operation in which a still greater deo-ree of
attention is necessary.
Is pals . materials used for filling drains have been va*
,it|vhiehrious> according to the substances which different far¬
mers have been able to obtain. Stones, however,
u “iay are the most common, and also the best of all mate¬
rials, on account of their permanency. If stones from
quarries are to be used, and the drain formed like a
conduit at the bottom, the trench must be made at the
lowest part 16 inches wide, containing two side stones
about six inches asunder, and the same in height, with
a cap or fiat stone laid over, which secures the cavity,
buch hollow drains are commonly used for permanent
currents of water from springs, and are more expensive
than where no such steady current exists, and the stones
are either thrown in promiscuously, or laid down so as
0 form triangular cavities. The stones ought to be
veiy clean, having no clay or earth adhering to them,
and of the most hard and permanent quality that can be
procured, with as little tendency as possible to moulder
or decay in ^consequence of alternate changes from
wet to dry. They ought also to be laid in carefully,
Sa, as not to tumble down any earth, which might
choke up their interstices. The whole subject, how¬
ever, will be better understood by a statement of the
way in which drains have been filled with success by
intelligent persons.
The following directions are given by T. B. Bayley
sq. of Hope, near Manchester: “ First make the main
rains down the slope or fall of the field. When the
and is very wet, or has not much fall, there should in
general be two of these to a statute acre 5 for the shorter
'<? narrow drains are, the less liable they will be to
’ °L. I. Part I. f
U L T U R E. 36i
aemdents. 1 he width of the trench for the main drains Preparation
^ mu d be 30 inches at top, but the width at the bot- of Land,
tom must be regulated by the nature and size of the u—v—'
materials intended to be used. If the drain is to be
made of bricks 10 inches long, 3 inches thick, and 4
inches in breadth, then the bottom of the drain must
c 12 inches ; but if the common sale bricks are used,
then the bottom must be proportionably contracted. In
both cases there must be an interstice of one inch be-
ween the bottom brick and the sides of the trench, and
tne vacuity must be filled up with straw, rushes, or
loose mould. lor the purpose of making these drains,
1 order my bricks to be moulded ten inches long, four
n-oad, and three thick 5 which dimensions always make
the best dram.” J
The method which this gentleman pursues in con¬
structing his mam drains is stated by him to be the fol¬
lowing : When the ground is soft and spungv, the bot¬
tom ot the drain is laid with bricks placed across. On
these, on each side, two bricks are laid flat, one upon the
other, forming a drain six inches high, and four broad
which is covered vyith bricks laid flat.—When the bot¬
tom of the trench is found to be a firm and solid body
such as clay or marl, he formerly thought that it might
not be necessary to lay the bottom with brick 5 but in
tins he has candidly acknowledged that he was quite
wrong. By the ions of water, the alternate changes
from wet to dry, and the access of air, these hard bot¬
toms were rendered friable, crumbled away, and let in
all the drams, and allowed them to choke up, that were
not supported by a bottom laid with brick or stone.
When stones are used instead of bricks, Mr Bayley
thinks that the bottom of the drain should be about eight
inches in width ; and in all cases the bottom main drains
ought to be sunk four inches below the level of the nar¬
row ones whose contents they receive, even at the point
where the latter fall into them.
I he main diams should be kept open or uncovered
till the narrow ones are begun from them, after which
they may be finished j but before the earth is returned
upon the stones or bricks, it is advisable to throw in
straw, rushes, or brushwood, to increase the freedom of
the drain. I he small narrow drains should be cut at
the distance of 16 or 18 feet from each other, and should
fall into the main drain at very acute angles, to pre¬
vent any stoppage. At the point where they fall in,
and eight or ten inches above it, they should be made
firm with brick or stone. These drains should be 18
inches wide at the top, and 16 at bottom.
A mode of draining clay soils wet by rain or surface
water, practised by Sir Henry Fletcher, Bart, with
great success, seems worthy of being here stated. The
upper soil is of good quality, but being situated in a
mountainous part of the country, the frequent rains
kept the upper soil so full of water, ihat it produced
only a coarse grass worth 3s. per acre. The inferior
soil of clay was of great depth. The mode of draining
which has been successfully practised upon it is the
following : “ On grass lands he digs 22 inches, or 2
feet deep 3 the first spadeful is of the turf, taken so
deep, as where it separates from the clay, which is dug
carefully out, and preserved unbroken grass side up,
and laid on one side of the cut 3 then, with a very ^
strong spade, 18 inches long, 6 inches wide at top, and
2 at the bottom, he digs a spadeful in the clay, which
Z z the
362
Preparation the men spread about the land, on the side of the drain
of Land, opposite to where the turfs were laid, as far as possible
■ v—fram t|ie tlraluj so as none may get in again. A scoop,
to clear out the fragments in the bottom, follows,
which are also spread in like manner. They are then
ready for filling ; and in doing this, he takes three
stones of a thin flat form, two of which are placed a-
gainst the sides of the drain, meeting at bottom j and
the third caps the other two. Thus, a hollow triangu¬
lar space is left to convey the water, which is subject
to no accidents that can fill it up or impede the current.
Stones always sink deeper in the ground ; in the com¬
mon method, this frequently causes stoppages by their
being partly buried in the clay : but the triangle, when
it subsides, does it regularly, and keeps its form and the
passage for the water clear. One cart load of stones, in
this way, will do a considerable length of drain. They
are carefully laid down by the side of the cut, with a
shovel or basket, and if there are any small refuse stones
left on the ground after the drain is set, they are thrown
in above. The stones being thus fixed, the sods are
then trimmed to the shape of the drain, and laid on
them, with the grass side downwards, and none of the
clay used in filling up.
The expence is a halfpenny per yard, the men earn¬
ing 2s. and 2s. 6d. per day, at 10 yards distance from
drain to drain. At 6 yards distance they answered well,
but would not operate a cure, if more than 7 yards
asunder. At this last distance, therefore, the expence
of draining an English acre, at £d. per yard, would
amount to il. 9s. 2d. the stones being not more than
half a mile distant.
Not only stones and bricks, but also wood and other
materials, have been used for filling drains.
Richard Preston, Esq. of Blackmore, prefers, on
twenty years experience, black thorns to every other
material for filling drains. Wood is sometimes used
with this view in the following manner: Two billets are
placed at opposite sides of the drain, and each is made
to rest under the opposite side to that on which its
lower part stands, so as to form with each other a St
Andrew’s cross. The upper part of the cross is filled
with brushwood, laid longitudinally, above which straw
is placed cross-ways, and the mould is thrown in over
all. This kind of drain is said to have continued run¬
ning in Berwickshire for 30 years, and it is recom¬
mended by the Author of the Agricultural Report of
the county of Caermarthen, in Wales. He says, “ The
completest method I have yet known, is to cut the
strongest willows, or other aquatic brushwood, into
lengths of about 20 inches, and place them alternately
in the drain, with one end against one side of the bot¬
tom, and the other leaning against the opposite side.
Having placed the strong wood in this manner, I fill
the space left between them on the upper side with the
small brushwood, upon which a few rushes or straw
being laid, as before mentioned, the work is done.
Willow, alder, asp, or beech boughs, are exceedingly
durable if put into the drain green, or before the sap
is dried ; but if they are suffered to become dry, and
then laid under ground, a rapid decay is the conse¬
quence. I have seen willow taken out of a bog, after
lying there thirty years, and its bark was as fresh and
sappy as if it had been recently cut from the hedge ;
Practicel
and it is well known that beech laid green in the water PreparatiJ
will continue sound for any length of time.” ofLandl
Another method of using wood consists of fixing
every foot distance in the drain, a stick in the form of
a semicircular arch, and of laying upon these longer
branches or twigs longitudinally. Thus is a curved
cavity, or arch, formed beneath, capable of supporting
any weight of earth. For this purpose young wood is
recommended, and in pai'ticular the primings of larch.
Instead of wood er stone, in many places, it has of
late become customary to fill the lowest part ot drains
with straw, and with that view to make use of wheat
stubble as the cheapest kind of straw. On this subject,
Mr Vancouver, in his Report of the Essex husbandry,
remarks, that when the soil is a very close and reten¬
tive clay, the drains should be made proportionally
near to each other, shallow, and filled with straw only,
it being totally unnecessary to use wood or any more
durable material upon land where the sides of the
drains are not likely to crumble in. He asserts that
drains formed in this manner, through the tough and
retentive clays, will be found in a short time alter the
work is finished, to afford over the straw, with which
the drain was filled, an arch of sufficient strength to
support the incumbent weight of the soil, and the casual
traffic of the field. “ In 12 or 18 months it may be ob¬
served that the straw, being of one uniform substance,
is all rotted, and carried away, leaving a clear pipe
through the land in every drain, into which the pas¬
sage of the water may have been much facilitated, by
a due attention to the filling of the drains with the most
friable and porous parts of the surface the field might
have afforded.”
An improvement in filling hollow drains with straw,
consists of twisting the straw into a rope, said to have
been devised by Mr Bedwell, of Essex. The rope of
straw is formed as large as a man’s arm, and is placed
at the bottom of the drain. The expence of draining
an English acre of land with this material in Essex, is
said to stand thus :
For cutting and raking together an acre of
wheat stubble, generally sufficient for an
acre of drain, - - E»o 2 0
Digging eight score rods of drains - o 13 4
Filling them up with stubble, - - 028
Extra work with the common spade, on an
average a day’s work for a man, - 014
L.o 19 4
As in some situations it is an object of great import¬
ance to save the expence of materials commonly used m
filling drains, a variety of devices have with that view
been adopted. One of these is of the following nature.
A drain is first dug to the necessary depth, narrow at
bottom. Into the trench is laid a smooth tree, or cy¬
lindrical piece of wood, 12 feet long, 6 inches diame¬
ter at the one end, and 5 at the other, having a ring
fastened into the thickest end. After strewing a little
sand upon the upper side of the tree, the clay or tough¬
est part of the contents of the trench, is first thrown in
upon it, and thereafter the remainder of the earth is
fully trod down. By means of a rope through the
ring the tree is then drawn out to within a foot or two
AGRICULTURE.
j rt I.
p laration the small or hinder end, and the same operation is
Land, repeated till the whole drain is complete. Such a drain
^ ’v 13 s^id to have conducted a small run of water a con-
agriculture.
363
'7
S or
siderable way under ground for more than 20 years
without any sign of failure.
What is called the sod or pipe drain consists of a
1» drain- trench dug to a proper depth; after which a last spade¬
ful is taken out in such a way as to leave a narrow chan¬
nel, which can be covered by a sod or turf dug in grass
land and laid over it, the grass side downwards. Such
drains are said to continue hollow, and to discharge well
for a great number of years. Mosses are said to be
drained in Lancashire nearly in the same manner, by
leaving shoulders about a foot and a half from the bot¬
tom of the trench, and laying across these pieces ofdry-
ed peat or turf, cut into lengths of 16 inches, and 8 or
9 inches in breadth.
In Buckinghamshire, in grass lands, the sod drain is
thus made : When the line of drain is marked out, a
sod in form of a wedge is cut, the grass side being the
narrowest,^ and the sods being from 12 to 18 inches in
length. The drain is then cut to the depth required,
but is contracted to a very narrow bottom. The sods
are then set in with the grass side downwards, and
pressed as far as they will go. As the figure of the
drain does not suffer them to go to the bottom, a cavity
is left, which serves as a water course j and the space
above is filled with the earth thrown out.
Another invention for draining land is described in
the agricultural report of the county of Essex. It con¬
sists of a draining wheel of cast iron, that weighs about
4 cvvt.. It is 4 feet in diameter, the cutting edge or
extremity of the circumference of the wheel is half an
inch thick, and it increases in thickness towards the
centre. At 15 inches deep it will cut a drain, one half
of an inch wide at the bottom, and 4 inches wide at
the top. Ihe wheel is so placed in a frame, that it
may be loaded at pleasure, and made to operate to a
greater or less depth, according to the resistance made
by the ground. It is used, in winter, when the soil is
soft-, and the wheel tracks are either immediately filled
with straw ropes and lightly covered over with earth,
or they are left to crack wider and deeper till the en¬
suing summer j after which the fissures are filled with
ropes of straw or of twisted twigs, and lightly covered
with the most porous earth that is at hand. Thus,
upon grass or ley lands, hollow drains are formed at a
trifling expence, which answer extremely well. It is
said that 12 acres may be fully gone over with this
draining wheel in one day, so as to make cuts at all
necessary distances.
On sheep pastures a still simpler mode of removing
surface water is said to be practised in some places.
Wherever the water is apt to stagnate, a deep furrow
is turned up with a stout plough. Thereafter, a man
with a spade pares off the loose soil from the inverted
sod, and scatters it over the field, or casts it into hol¬
low places. The sod thus pared and rendered thin,
or brought to the thickness of about three inches, is*
restored to its original situation, with the grassy side up¬
permost, as if no furrow had been made. A pipe or
opening is thus formed beneath it two or three inches
deep in the bottom of the furrow, which is sufficient
to discharge a considerable quantity of surface water
which readily sinks into it- These furrows, indeed,
onhe rlfof H “P by fT™’ 01 by t,,e Sr°wtil P"p.r.U™
or tne roots of the grass; but they are also easily res- of Land,
tored and no surface is lost by means of them. v v—'
!t regard to the duration of hollow drains, oi'p. lll ..
s Iprurtii of i.L_i. xi . ’ Duration of
i 4.? !• • V ui uuiiow drains, orta '•
in the"/ 1 r uthat the Water wil1 c°»tinue to flowfoK
state nf /"11 the?'eb3r t0 P^serve the soil in a proper drains,
state of dryness it must necessarily depend, in a great
fc’ °f 11,6 matei-ls which
they are filled, and the care that lias been taken to
prevent their being choked up by any accession of soft
fil '] I"tependent ,°f thls last circumstance, a drain
filled with stones, like the channel which supplies a
natural spring, may endure for ever. Wood, with
winch many drains have of late years been filled, perishes
at certain periods according to its nature; but it does
by no means follow, that the drain should lose its effect
in consequence of the destruction of the wood. If the
earth over it form itself into an arch, the water will still
continue to flow. Accordingly, it is said, that drains
filled with bushes and straw have been known to run
well alter 40 years.
Having thus stated the various modes that have been DiainV
most successfully adopted for draining lands of a super- wken the
abundant moisture caused by rain or surface water wetnessi«
we shall proceed to consider the way in which a soilCa.sed by
may be drained when its undue wetness is the conse-*1™88'
quence of natural springs, or of water arising out of the
bowels of the earth; and also when the soil, whether
injured by springs or rain water, is so completely sur¬
rounded by higher grounds, as to prevent the possibility
at a moderate expence, of obtaining a level by which
the water may be conducted away, either by open or
by artificial hollow drains.
10 understand the principles upon which land, ren-Nature of
tiered wet by springs, may be drained for the purposessl)r‘I1£*1
•of agriculture, it is necessary to attend to the materials
of which the globe we inhabit is composed, and to the
manner in which large quantities of water find their
way into its bowels. The earth upon which we tread
is by no means an uniform mass of matter. It consists
of various layers or strata of different substances, one
placed over the other. These layers or strata are sel¬
dom situated horizontally, but almost always descend
towards one side or the other. One part of a stratum
or layer often descends and appears on the surface,
while the other end or side of it descends obliquely to
a great depth into the earth. Having done so, it fre¬
quently again bends upwards towards the surface; and
indeed assumes almost all the variety of irregular forms
and bearings that the imagination can conceive; some¬
times suddenly breaking off and giving place to other
strata or layers, and sometimes continuing at one cor¬
ner while the greater part of it ceases. These strata
or layers, of which the earth is composed, may be con¬
sidered, with a view to the explanation of our present
subject, as of two kinds. Some of them are porous, and
allow water to pass through their substance, and to
fill up all their cavities and interstices, such as sand,
giavel, some marls, and various kinds of porous rocks.
Other layers, on the contrary, do not suffer water to
enter into them; such as clay, or gravel with much clay
mixed with it, and rocks of a close or compact nature,
without any fissures or clefts in them.
It is next to be remarked, that it is chiefly upon
high mountains that water exists, or is formed, in very
Z z 2 great
364
AGRICULTURE.
Preparation great abundance. Not only do they catch and break
of Land, the passing clouds, which deposit upon them the great-
est portion of their watex-y contents, but they would
seem to have a power, when neither rain nor clouds
appear in the sky, of condensing, attracting, or some-
how forming water from the atmosphere. In the
great burning deserts of Africa rain is scarcely known.
The inhabitants build their houses of clods of earth or
of lumps of salt. A drizzling shower, which is apt to
come once in several years, endangers every dwelling j
and two hours of heavy rain would lay a whole city in
ruins 5 yet even there, wherever mountains exist, that
is to say, naked rocks, which abound in a few districts
of this wilderness, water is almost always found in their
vicinity j and, in consequence of the water, spots cover¬
ed with the most luxuriant verdure are seen like islands
amidst the dreary tracts of moveable and unproductive
sand.
The upper part of mountains is very frequently co¬
vered with a layer of gravel, or loose and open rock,
into which water readily penetrates. These porous
layers or strata descend gradually into the bowels of
the earth, and convey along with them the water
which they contain, and have received from the clouds.
Under the porous stratum or layer of gravel are usually
layers of clay or of solid rock, through which the water
cannot pass, but along the upper part of which it flows.
After descending, however, a certain length obliquely
down towards the plain country, layers or strata of
clay and other impervious materials usually come to be
placed above the layers of porous gravel. Thus, as
the water in the gravel is confined between clay above
and clay or rock below, and must descend along the
gravelly channel which is pervious to it, streams of wa¬
ter are formed in the bowels of tbe earth, which have
their origin in high gravelly soils, and their outlets at
any place in the low country, where any paid of the
beds of gravel or porous rock, along which they flow,
happens to approach the surface, forming springs and
rivulets, and, by their union or conflux, mighty rivers,
which continue steadily to water the surface of the
earth. Hence also, in very many situations, by dig¬
ging pits into the earth, we at last reach a layer of per¬
vious gravel or rock, containing a stream of water,
brought, perhaps, from the summit of a distant moun¬
tain $ and such pits can be used as wells for supplying
water for every domestic purpose.
We have said that the upper part of the face of a
mountain is often covered with a bed of porous or
gravelly substances capable of taking in water. Upon
the surface, at a certain distance down the bill, a bed
of clay begins. The water received above into the
layer of gravel continues to descend with that layer
for a considerable space below the bed of clay ; and
thereafter the gravel suddenly stops, and the clay above
unites with the clay beneath, or with some other im¬
pervious strata upon which the gravel all the way rest¬
ed. In this situation, as the water contained in the
gravel can proceed no*farther, it hangs within the side
of the hill as in a bag of clay; and a reservoir is form¬
ed of water within the earth. When this bag or na¬
tural reservoir is full, the water contained in it is pres¬
sed upwards against the clay by which it is covered.
It moistens this clay, and finds its way by chinks
through all its weaker patts or pores. Thus a belt of
PracticJ
soft and sponty land is formed upon the side of tbe hill; prerarati;
the mode of draining which is very easy. If a hole is of gandl
dug into the earth near the bottom of the bag or re-
servoir of water, so as to reach the layer of gravel, thep,.
water will instantly flow freely out, and, being noonwhfeh!
longer restrained, it will cease to press upon the layer land mad j
or stratum of clay that covers it, or to force a passage wet by
through its chinks; and the soil will consequently be
. . ? xj drained.
drained.
Let it be supposed, that tbe porous stratum or layer
of gravel, instead of stopping on the side of a hill 5 de¬
scends into the plain or level country, the water all
the while passing along in its bowels j and that the
gravel has a layer of clay below and another layer of
clay above it. After it has reached and passed to a
considerable distance along the valley, if the layer of
gravel either suddenly stop and allow the layers of
clay to come together, or if the gravel have too little
thickness and capacity to allow the water which flows
within it to pass easily along, it will necessarily, from
the new supplies of water which are continually de¬
scending, be pressed upwards against the layer of clay
•which covers it: as, in the former case, the clay will
be softened, and the water will filtrate through all its
weaker parts till it reach the surface, which it will
keep constantly wet, and where it will stagnate in con¬
sequence of the flat and level form of the country.
Over the softest places, a coarse verdure will spread,
and the roots of the plants intertwining, will form shak¬
ing quagmires. In other places, the moss plants, being
the only ones which can thrive in the moist and unge-
nial soil which is thus produced, will rapidly spring up,
and a moss will be formed altogether unfit for any pur¬
pose of agriculture. To drain such a soil, it is evident¬
ly only necessary to dig a pit or hole through the upper
stratum of clay into the gravel, to give a free vent or
issue to the water ; which having thus found an easy
passage to the open ah', will cease to press upon the
incumbent layer of clay, or to render it moist. This
clay will therefore speedily become dx-y and collapse 5.
the moss plants will wither, provided the surface is pro¬
perly drained 5 and the whole soil will become solid
and fit to be cultivated.
It sometimes happens, as already noticed, that a piece
of territory which lies low, is rendered extremely wet
by rain and spring water coming from adjacent high
grounds, and lodging upon its surface, while, at the same
time, it is so completely surrounded by eminences, or
land-locked, that it cannot be drained at a moderate
cost; the consequence of which is, that the water stag¬
nates, and a moss or bog is formed. The principles
which we have already stated concerning the manner in
which the globe is made up of various strata, indicate
the way in which such a bog may be drained at a cheap
rate. It is only necessary to dig a pit at the lowest part
of it, down through the clay, or other impervious layer
that holds up the water, till a porous stratum is reached^
capable of conveying away the surface water down the
country below ground to the sea, or to such xivei’S as
it may chance to be connected with.
The whole art of draining land, where the wetness
is occasioned by water pressing upwards from the
bowels of the earth, depends upon these principles. It
is an art whose importance is not yet sufficiently ap-
pretiated, because imperfectly understood, and because
} -t I.
Pi nation it has not yet been carrieil into practice to its full extent,
ft ..and. It is probable, however, that at no remote period it
u ^ ' will be held in universal estimation, on account of the
command of those hidden streams that are contained in
the bowels ol the earth, which it will give to mankind
lor the purposes ol an improved agriculture, and for the
service of commerce in filling canals and giving motion
74 ^ to every kind of machinery. A dispute exists about
rrtkeea' the original discoverer of this art. The celebrated
gjlisco. writer upon agriculture, Dr James Anderson of Aber-
vt of thedeen, in his “ Essays on Agriculture and Rural Affairs ”
in of ’ ’ 1 ‘ - ......
dr ins
]a made
fpj?s. pies upon which it ought to proceed j having been led
to the investigation many years before, by bis having
fortunately succeeded in draining a bog by sinking a
pit in it through the clay, till an opening was made in¬
to the gravel or porous stratum, from which the water
rushed up vehemently. In the mean while, it had hap¬
pened that Mr Joseph Elkington, possessor of a farm
in England called Princethorp, in the parish of Stret-
ton upon Dunsmore, and county of Warwick, almost as
early as Dr Anderson, had accidentally discovered that
land might be drained in many situations by making a
small hole into the earth. Being a man of considerable
natural ingenuity, though, it is said, of little literature,
he had the address to take advantage of the discovery he
had made, with a view to the improvement of his affairs.
He therefore commenced the trade of a drainer of
lands j and by the novelty of draining land by a small
hole bored often at a considerable distance from the
wettest part of it, and by conducting himself in a
mysterious manner, he acquired great reputation, and
rvas extensively employed. This employment he ap¬
pears to have merited, as his operations were attended
with very great success. After the establishment of
the Board of Agriculture, its members, who appear to
have been unacquainted with Dr Anderson’s publica¬
tion, supposed Mr Elkington to be the only discov erer
and possessor of the art of draining land wet by springs
in the way now mentioned } and upon their recom¬
mendation, parliament bestowed a reward of loool.
upon him. It was surely an unfortunate circumstance,
that the first premium granted upon the recommenda¬
tion of this board, should have proceeded upon an error,
as it undoubtedly did ; for, although Mr Elkington
had the merit of being the first who introduced this art
extensively into practice, there is no doubt that Dr
Anderson, by whom also it was discovered, was the
fust who explained its principles to the public, and
that at a period when Mr Elkington’s secret remained
with himself. After all, however, it is not to be sup¬
posed that the theory of this art was absolutely un¬
known, although these persons appear to have been the
first who proposed to apply it extensively to the pur¬
poses of agriculture. It is said that the practice is
very ancient in Italy, when a well is dug, to avoid
the expence of going to a great depth, by boring with
an auger in the bottom of the pit, in the hopes of reach¬
ing the porous stratum which contains the water. And
in Germany it appears, as will be afterwards noticed,
that the practice has long existed of draining land¬
locked bogs, by letting down the water by means of a
AGRICULTUBE.
36:
pit through the impervious clay, to a porous substra-Preparation
urn. Me shall now proceed to state the most ap- of Land,
proved modes of draining land that is rendered wet by 1—
springs, or water ascending out of the earth ; and as
the Board of Agriculture instructed Mr John Johnston,
am sm v ey or, to inspect Mr Elkington’s principal drain-
ings o . this sort, and to give an account of them, we
shall give all due attention to the contents of the re¬
port maue out by that gentleman, which is understood
to have been executed with much fidelity and accuracy ;
though we shall also exhibit, at the same time, theprac-
175
Practical
• . „ , . r   vjL/Laiu ci tvnuw-rules for
et ge or the internal structure of the earth, and of the^^imng
manner in which its various layers or strata succeed land fnat!&
and are usually intermingled with each other. This*"^ by
object, however, can only he attained in any consi-^”555*
derable degree ol perfection by observation and expe¬
rience. Ibere are several wavs, however, by which
a man^0f sagacity and reflection may greatly abridge
the difirculty of this study, so as in a short time to
enable himself to practise the art of draining with con¬
siderable success. The surest way of ascertaining the
inclination of the different strata, or the way in which
they lie upon each other, and the direction in which
they descend into the earth, consists of examining the
bed ol the nearest rivers, and the appearance of their
banks when steep and broken, so as to lay bare the
different strata of earth adjoining to them. Pits, quar-
ries, and wells, that may have been dug in the neigh¬
bourhood', may also be examined with the same view.
Rushes, small elder bushes, and other plants which
grow on the wettest soils, also frequently afford symp¬
toms of the line under which an internal reservoir of
watei is placed, and is pressing upwards from wanting
a free passage below ground.
It is often of much importance, even in sheep coun-To drain
tries, to drain the side ol a hill, not only because wet the side of’
land is more unproductive than that which is properlya
drained, hut because the superabundance of moisture is
apt to introduce and to keep up among the flock that
destructive and incurable disease, the rot, for which
draining is an almost infallible preventive. It is
cheaply executed in such situations, because the drains
for collecting and leading off the water, may usually
be left uncovered. Let it be supposed then, that in
consequence of internal springs at a certain distance
down the declivity of a hill, or upon any other de¬
scending surface, the ground becomes wet and spouty,
and unwholesome for sheep, and unfit for agriculture ;
the best mode of proceeding with a view to drain it is
this. It ought to he recollected, that the reason of the
wetness is this: The rain water at the summit of the
high ground is received into a porous stratum of gra¬
vel, with which it descends down the side of the hill,
till it comes to be covered with a clayey soil. After
descending under the covering of clay to some distance,
the gravel or porous under soil suddenly ceases; the clay
becomes deeper, and touches the rock or another in¬
ferior bed of clay. In this situation, the water, unable
to descend farther, regorges and presses upwards upon
the clayey soil which covers it, rendering it moist and
swampy in every part, and oozing through all its*
weaker
366
A G R I C U
Thus it forms a belt of moist ground
Preparation 'weaker crannies,
of Land, along the face of the hill, from which the water perhaps
v descends and damages every part. To drain this de¬
clivity, begin at the bottom and carry up a ditch to¬
wards the wet ground. As the object is to let out the
water at the lowest point ol the reservoir or natural
bag in which it is contained, by making an opening
into the gravel there, it will be proper, as the ditch
proceeds upwards, frequently to bore holes with an
auger of about two inches diameter to a considerable
depth, that is, about 15 feet, though sometimes it is
necessary to go to* twice that depth. As long as the
water is not found by boring, the ditch must be car¬
ried upwards, and new auger holes formed ; when at
last the auger by boring reaches the lowest part of the
gravel or reservoir of water, the water will immediate¬
ly rush forth with considerable violence at the hole
formed by it, and will continue ever after to run with¬
out any danger of choking up. When the bottom of
the reservoir of water or layer of gravel is thus found,
another ditch ought to be drawn across the head of
the former along the face of the hill, so as to form the
figure of the letter T. ]n the upper ditch or drain
that runs along the face of the hill, auger holes ought
to he bored at short distances, to let out the whole wa¬
ter from the interior reservoir or stratum of gravel.
The whole process will be easily understood from con-
Plate XII. sidering the figure 3. Care ought always to be taken
in digging the upper drain along the face of the hill,
to form it in such a way as that the water may descend
in it towards the ditch first formed, which is intended
to convey it down the hill to the nearest brook. The
old practice or mode of draining ground in this situa¬
tion before the use of the auger was understood, and
before men had reflected upon the way in which water
is often confined in the earth, consisted of digging a
trench wherever the spouty land commenced. As this
was not deep enough to reach the level, that is, to pene¬
trate to the reservoir of water, it produced only a partial
remedy. Other parallel ditches of the same kind were
therefore cut the whole way down the declivity, and be¬
ing filled with loose stones and connected with a de¬
scending ditch, each carried off- only a portion of sur¬
face water, leaving the soil still cold in consequence of
the wetness of the bottom.
In performing the operation already described, some
difficulties are apt to occur, in consequence of the irre¬
gularities with which the strata are often placed in the
earth. In boring in the ascending trench, in the first
part of the operation, with a view to discover the lowest
point at which the water may be let out from the inter¬
nal reservoir, the operator is sometimes apt to be misled
by finding w'ater before he has come high enough to
reach the place at which the porous stratum stops. This
arises from its sometimes happening that at the bottom
of the reservoir small leakages occur, and a portion of
the water finds its way downwards through crannies in
the earth to some distance from the main reservoir.
When the auger in boring meets these leakages, they
are apt to he mistaken for the main body of water, and
the operator can only guard himself against such errors,
by forming an estimate of the quantity of water which
the adjoining high grounds ought to afford. If the
quantity of water that follows the auger be very trifling,
while the extent of high ground is great, he may be as-
L T U R E. Theor
sured that he has not yet reached the great cause of theprePar.
wetness of the soil. It also sometimes happens that the of Lan
cross drain carried along the face of the hill may in'~\'
some places be below the level of the reservoir of wa¬
ter, while it is upon it at other places. In this case,
when the auger by boring in the cross trench brings no
water, it will be necessary to bore above it, and to con¬
duct the water that is there obtained by a small cut in¬
to the general cross trench.
It sometimes happens that hills are composed of al¬
ternate strata of rock and sand and clay, which rest
horizontally or nearly so upon each other, and pene¬
trate and form the mass of the hill. In such cases the
soil above the sand or rock is often dry and productive,
while the clay is wet and swampy. In this case, the
highest part of the hill being generally porous, re¬
ceives the rain water, which descends through it till
it meets the impervious clay, which forces it to flow to
the sui-face, which it renders wet. Having overflowed
the upper clay surface, it is immediately absorbed by
the next porous stratum ; and descending into it in like
manner, again issues at the lower side of it, and in¬
jures the surface of the next bed of clay, as it did that
of the first. To drain a hill side of this description, it
is necessary to make a trench along the upper side of
every belt of rushy or boggy soil to receive the water
from the superior porous soil, and to lead the whole
wrater thus obtained by one or more ditches downwards
to the bottom.
Where a soil is composed of intermixed varieties, with
clay predominating, it is sometimes very difficult to
drain, as it is apt to form itself into a variety of hollow
reservoirs, each of which holds water like a cup, while,
at the same time, these hollows being full of porous ma¬
terials, the surface of the soil is sufficiently regular.
Thus in wet seasons, patches of moist unwholesome soil
are formed, not by springs for which they may he mis¬
taken, but by rain water held up by clay in these dis¬
joined cavities. They can only be drained by separate
covered cuts, communicating in the shortest way possi¬
ble with one or more main drains. 177 I
With regard to the drainage of bogs, it has already To dram
been remarked, that they are either such as can havens ^
their water carried off by a communication, at a tolera- ttr ascetl
ble expence, with some adjoining lowrer ground ; or theyflie]y.
are land-locked, so as not to admit of being drained
in this way. With regard to the former, or those
which can be drained by trenches for conducting the
water to an adjoining low country or river, they may
be rendered wret by springs oozing out of the adjoin¬
ing higher ground, in a regular line along the up¬
per side of the wet surface, which aft’ord water
that stagnates upon the surface of the inferior ground,
forming it into a bog. To render free from water
a bog of this kind, nothing more is necessary than
merely to drain the upper adjoining swampy ground
in the way that has been already stated, and to convey
away to a distance the water produced by it, in regular,
open, or hollow drains.—The second class of bogs ren¬
dered wet by springs, consists of those in which the
many springs that appear are not confined to one regu¬
lar direction along the upper side, but burst out every¬
where, forming shaking quagmires, over which it is
dangerous for cattle to pass. The upper part of such
bogs usually consists of peat-earth. Below that is
found
pit i. agriculture
Priration foond a bed of clay, extremely wet and soft, through
oj,and. the crannies ot which small quantities of water are con-
^ -—' tinually oozing. When the lowest part of such a bog
is found, or the place in which it will be most conve¬
nient to convey away the tvater, little more is usually
necessary than to dig proper trenches, and to bore with
the auger through the stratum of clay to the porous stra¬
tum containing the water. To drain an extensive bog,
it will usually be necessary to dig a trench from end to
end of it, with cross trenches at considerable distances,
the bottom of the whole being frequently penetrated with
the auger, so as to allow a free passage for the water
to ascend; the effect of which will be, that the nature
of the surrounding soft soil will speedily be altered, in
consequence of the water being removed from beneath
it. It will become dry and solid, and soon fit for bearing
the plough. The same effect would follow, although only
a single perforation were made through the inferior
stratum ot the bog ; and accordingly Mr Elkington is
said sometimes to have succeeded, while he drained a
bog, in raising, the water from it considerably above
its own level, for any purpose for which it might be re¬
quired. This was done by rearing around the perfora¬
tion, a building of brick, puddled around and within
with clay, to the top ot which the water rose, and was
i from thence conveyed away in pipes or otherwise.
t der- I hat the whole of this important subject, of drainino-
r lni^Ja1^ rendered wet by springs, may be better undei^
kv ianckSt(,0(^ we s*la" SIve an account of it as described by
Dr Anderson, in his Essays published in 1775, already
mentioned. Supposing, says he, a descending stratum
of sand or gravel should be discontinued, and that the
stratum above it should be of a coherent clayey nature 5
in this case, the water being pent in on every side, and
being accumulated in great quantities, must at length
force a passage for itself in some wayr, and pressing
strongly upon the upper surface, if any one part is
weaker than the rest, it would burst forth, and form a
spring : but if the texture of every part of this stratum
were equally strong, the water would squeeze through
many small crannies, and would ooze out in number¬
less places, so as to occasion that kind of wetness that
is known by the name of spouting clayey soil.
The cure in this case is easily effected.—For if a
ditch of a considerable size is opened towards the lower¬
most part ot the spouting ground, so deep as to pene¬
trate through the upper stratum of clay, and reach to
the gravel, the water will rise up through it at first
with very great violence, which will gradually decrease
as the pressure from the water behind is diminished ;
and when the whole of the water accumulated in the
subterraneous reservoir is run off, there being no longer
any pressure upon the clay above it, the whole soon be¬
comes as dry as could be desired, and continues so
ever afterwards, if the ditch is always kept open. This
the doctor says he can assert from experience, havino-
rendered some fields of tills kind that were very wet
quite dry by this method of treating them. The at¬
tentive observer, he adds, will readily perceive, that
^ anV field that is wet from this cause admits of being
ploughed, it will be in equal danger of being hurt by
ueing raised into high ridges, with the other kind of
damp ground before mentioned. For as the depth of
earth above the reservoir would be smaller in the deep
furrows than anywhere else, there would of conseqeence
be less resistance to the water in that place, so that it
womd arise there in greater abundance. And if, in this
case, a farmer should dig a drain in each furrow, as a
considerable quantity of water would rise into them, in
some cases the ground might be improved, or even
quite drained thereby, especially if they should have
accidentally reached the gravel in anyone place; al¬
though at an expence much greater than was necessary.
I take notice of this circumstance, says he, in some
measure to prevent the prejudice that some inattentive
observers might entertain against what was said before
ol this method of draining, from their having accidental¬
ly seen some fields that may have been bettered by it.
. . , are on'-v a va,'iety of this last-mentioned
Kind ot wet ground ; and therefore ought in general
to be drained after the same manner with them. Clay
is a substance that strongly resists the entrance of water
into it j hut when it is long drenched with it, it is, in
process of time, in some measure dissolved thereby ;
loses its original firmness ol texture and consistence; and
becomes a sort of semi-fluid mass, which is called a
b°g ; and as these are sometimes covered with a strong
scurf of a particular kind of grass, with very matted
roots, which is strong enough to bear a small weight
without breaking, although it yields very much, it is
in these circumstances called a swaggle. But, what¬
ever be the nature ol the bog, it is invariably occa¬
sioned by water being forced up through a bed of clay,
as just now described, and dissolving or softening, if
you will, a part thereof. I say only a part; because
whatever may be the depth of the bog or swaggle, it
generally has a partition of solid clay between it and
toe reservoir of water under it, from whence it original¬
ly proceeds: for if this were not the case, and the
quantity of water were considerable, it would meet
with no sufficient resistance from the bog, and would
issue through it with violence, and carry the whole semi¬
fluid mass along with it. But this would more ine¬
vitably be the ease, if there was a crust at the bottom
of the bog, and if the crust should ever be broken,
especially if the quantity of water under it were very
considerable : and as it is probable, that, in many cases
of this sort, the water slowly dissolves more and more
of this under crust, I make no doubt but that, in the
revolution of many ages, a great many eruptions of
this kind may have happened, although they may not
have been deemed of importance enough to have the
history of them transmitted to posterity. Of this kind,
although formed of a different substance, I consider the
flow of the Solway moss in Northumberland to have
been; which, upon the 16th of November 1771, burst
its former boundaries, and poured forth a prodigious
stream of semi-fluid matter, which in a short time co¬
vered several hundred acres of very fine arable ground.
Nor will any one, who is acquainted with the nature
of moss,—who knows its resemblance to clay in its
quality of absorbing and retaining water, and its very
easy diffusibility therein, be surprised at this ; as from
all these properties, it is much better adapted for form¬
ing an extensive bog, and therefore in greater danger
of producing an extensive devastation by an irruption of
the water into it, than those that are formed of any
kind of clay whatever.
“ If the bog, or swampy ground, is upon a declivity,
the ditch ought to be carried across the field about
the
AGRICULTURE.
Preparation the place where the lowest springs arise. But if the
368
of JLand. surface of the ground is level or nearly so, so as to
"“—v- -' form soft quagmires, interspersed through the whole of
the field, it will be of little consequence in what part
the drain is opened ; for if it is dug up so deep as to
allow the water to rise in it with freedom, it will issue
through that opening, and the field will be left perfect¬
ly dry.
“ But as it may frequently happen that the stratum
of gravel should be at a considerable depth beneath the
surface of the earth, and as it may be sometimes even
below the level of the place into which the drain must
be emptied, it might sometimes be extremely difficult to
make a ditch so deep as to reach the bed of sand or
gravel. But it is lucky for us that this is not absolute¬
ly necessary in the present case 5 as a drain of two
or three feet deep, will be equally effectual with one
that should go to the gravel. All that is necessary, in
this case, is to sink pits in the course of the drain, at a
moderate distance from one another, which go so deep
as to reach the gravel; for as the water there meets
with no resistance, it readily flows out at these openings,
and is carried off by the drain without being forced up
through the earth ; so that the ground is left entirely
dry ever after.
“ I have likewise drained several fields in this way :
and as I have generally found the appearances pretty
much alike, I shall, for the information of the inexperi¬
enced reader, give a short account of them.
“ If you attempt to make your pit in one of these
soft quaggy places where the water is found in great
abundance, you will meet with very great difficulty in
forming it 5 for as the substance of which it is compo¬
sed is soft, it will always flow into the hole as fast as
you dig it j on which account I would advise, not to
attempt to make the pit in the swaggle, but as near it
in the solid earth as you conveniently can. However,
if it is pretty firm, and of no great extent, it is some¬
times practicable to make a pit in the soft bog at the
driest time of the year. This I have sometimes prac¬
tised, which gave me an opportunity of observing the
nature of these hogs more perfectly than I otherwise
would have had. In the trials of this kind that I have
made, this soft quaggy ground has seldom been above
three or four feet deep; below which I have always
found a stratum of hard tough clay usually mixed with
stones, and so firm that nothing but a mattock or pick¬
axe could peneti’ate it : and as this is comparatively
so much drier than the ground above it, an inex-
perienced operator is very apt to imagine that this is
the bottom that he is in search of. In digging through
this stratum, you will frequently meet with small
springs oozing out in all directions ; some of them that
might fill the tube of a small quill, and others so small
as to be scarce perceptible : but without regarding
these, you must continue to dig on without intermission
till you come to the main body of the reservoir, if 1
mav so call it, that is contained in the rock, gravel, or
sand which you will generally find from two to four
feet below the bottom of the swaggle, and which you
will be in no danger of mistaking when you come to it:
for, if there has been no opening made before that in
the field, as soon as you break the crust immediately
above the gravel or rock, the water bursts forth like a
torrent, and on some occasions rises like a jet d'eau,'
2
Practicl
to a considerable height above the bottom of the ditch ; prCp.,ril
and continues to flow off with great impetuosity for ofLandi
some time, till the pent-up water being drained off, the v—-v~
violent boiling up begins to subside, and the strength
of the current to abate, and, in a short time, it flows
gently out like any ordinary spring 5—allowing it to
remain in this state, the quaggy earth begins to sub¬
side, and gradually becomes firmer and firmer every
day ; so that, in the space of a few months, those bogs
which were formerly so soft as hardly to support the
weight of a small dog, become so firm that oxen and
horses may tread upon them without any danger of
sinking, at the very wettest season of the year. I
have had a field of this nature, that, by having only
one such pit as I have now described opened in it, was
entirely drained to the distance of above a hundred
yards around it in every direction. But as it is possi¬
ble that the stratum in which the water runs may be in
some places interrupted, it will be in general expedient
to make several of these pits, if the field is of great ex¬
tent : always carrying the drain forward through the
lowermost part of the field, or as near the quag as you
conveniently can ; and sinking a pit wherever you may
judge it will be most necessary. But if the stratum of
gravel is not interrupted, there will be no violent burst
of water at opening any of these after the first, as I
have frequently experienced. To keep these wells from
closing up after they are made, it is always expedient
to fill them up with small stones immediately after they
are made, which ought to rise to the height of the bot¬
tom of the drain.
“ I have often imagined that the expence of digging
these pits might be saved by boring a hole through
this solid stratum of clay with a large wimble made
on purpose ; but as I never experienced this, I can¬
not say whether or not it would answer the desired end
exactly.
“ If the whole field that is to be drained consists of
one extensive bog, it will require a long time before
the whole work can be entirely finished, as it will be
impossible to open a drain through it till one part of
it is first drained and becomersolid ground. In a situ¬
ation of this kind, the undertaker, after having opened
a drain to convey the water from the lowest part of the
bog, must approach as near to the swampy ground as
he can, and there make his first pit ; which will draw
off the water from the nearest parts of the bog. When
this has continued open for some time, and that part of
the bog is become so solid as to admit of being worked,
let him continue the ditch as far forward through it as
the situation it is in will admit of, and there sink ano¬
ther pit 5 and proceed gradually forward in the same
manner 5 making cross cuts where necessary, till the
whole be finished.
“ In this manner may any bog or tract of spouting
ground of this nature be rendered dry at a very incon¬
siderable expence j and as there can be no other method
of draining ground of this sort effectually, I recommend
the study of it to the attention of every diligent farmer
who may have occasion for it. Let him first be ex¬
tremely cautious in examining all the circumstances ol
his particular fields, that he may' be certain which of
the classes above enumerated it may be ranked with ;
and when he is perfectly sure of that, he may proceed
without fear, being morally certain of success.”
We
lift I. A G R I C l
Piaration, sliatl iidd the substance of a paper on this sub-
■ <:-.and. ject, for winch the author received the silver medal of
L ^ie Society instituted for the encouragement of Arts
USee’sManufactures’ and Commerce. That author is Mr
ml: of Jolm Wedge of Bickenhill, near Coventry, who is
ir ing-. not on]y a great farmer himself, but had likewise
been employed by the earl of Aylesford in the manage-
ment of several estates. Encouraged by his lordship’s
liberality, Mr Wedge informs the society, that he had
been employed lor some years in draining large portions
of land, of which part was in the earl’s occupation, and
part in his own, as tenant to his lordship. The prin¬
ciples upon which he proceeded, as well as his mode of
procedure, he states in the following terms :
In every country there are large portions of land
that, in wet seasons, have always what may be called a
dry surface, and other portions of land that have always
nmoist ox wet surface: the former of these admitting all
the water which falls upon them to sink freely through
their pores to various depths, till falling on clay, or
some other unctuous earth, whose pores will not permit
it to pass through, it is there held up to a height pro¬
portioned to the quantity of water which comes upon
it, and^ the facility with which that water is dischar¬
ged. Thus, held up to various heights, it serves as
a fountain to distribute its water (either by veins of
sand, pebbles, or rock, according to the formation of
the different under strata) on the neighbouring lands 5
and there forms bogs and other varieties of wet surface,
on a basis that will be always found to consist of marl
or clay, or some mixture thereof. The effect of wa-
ter thus distributed may be divided into two classes.
I he first class, where the water is thrown out by a
body of marl or clay, &c. upon the surface of descend¬
ing ground, and in the valley (there held up by clay
also) forms bogs or swamps. The second class, where
the water is held up by marl or clay, as before, having
abore that marl or clay a stratum of sand, or pebbles*!
through which the water passes ; and above those sands
or pebbles another stratum of marl or clay, through
the weakest parts of which the water, by a continual
piessure from its fountain, forces a passage upwards ;
and thus, through the weakest parts of the marl or
clay furnishes a continual supply of water on the sur¬
face, for the formation or growth of bogs, &c. in pro¬
portion as this water is more or less abundantly supplied
by its fountain or head, namely, the higher lands, into
which rain-water freely passes, as before described.
ere are also different soils, under different circum¬
stances, which may form a third class of land for drain¬
ing ; such as strong deep soils, or open light soils, ha¬
ving near the surface a body of marl or clay. In either
of these cases, the water which falls on the surface must,
lor reasons which are self-evident, keep such lands, in
rmny seasons, constantly wet and cold 3 and it should be
0 sei ved, that a mixture of all the three before-described
classes of wet land sometimes occurs in one field, by sud-
en alterations of the under strata, and thereby perplexes
the operator, by requiring all the different modes of
draining in the same field.
fit be admitted that bogs are thus formed and fed,
their cure may be effected with certainty : The first
c ass, by cutting through the stratum (be it sand, peb-
e<b or rock), that conveys the water to the bog, and
carrying off that water by a close drain to some proper
Vol. I. Part I. V
L T U R E.
place, where the level admits of its discharge: The se¬
cond class, by sinking a drain to any convenient depth
in tie upper clay; and then digging or boring with
a aige auger, at a small distance on one side of this
drain, through the remaining part, be it (the upper
c ay) ever so deep, into the under stratum of sand, peb-
bles, or rock, through which the water passes; which
will then rush up into the drain so made, with a veloci¬
ty proportioned to the height of the land or fountain
whence it is supplied. As this drain advances through
he land, holes must be dug or bored, as before, every
seven yards, or at such distance as the strength of the
springs may require ; and the whole of the water thus
brought up by tapping the springs, is carried off by the
dram made in the upper clay, which must be a close
one, to its proper level, and there discharged.
By both these methods of draining, large tracts of
land, under favourable circumstances, maybe cured with
one drain. The best place for fixing these drains is
where the stratum that conveys the water comes nearest
to the surface ; and the best method of ascertaining that
is to bore or dig in different parts through the differ¬
ent under strata.
The third class may be easily cured by close drains,
at such distances and depths as will best carry off the*
surface-water. It may not be improper to observe, that
where the different strata or measures crop out, that is,
become gradually more and more shalkm in some cer¬
tain direction (as is often the case, till, one after the
other, they all present themselves in succession on the
surface of the earth), draining may often be much more
easily and better effected by crossing with the drain the
difleient strata or measures, where the levels and other
circumstances will admit.
Some of the land -drained was part of a common, in
the parish of Church Bickenhill, in the county of War¬
wick ; part of it was covered with moss and ling, had
a peaty surface, about six inches deep, and produced
little or no grass: in all wet seasons it was filled quite to
the surface, and often overflowed, with water. Some
of the land was much more unsound, deeper of peat,
and covered with moss, in most parts nine inches long;
another part was an absolute bog in all seasons.
Having dug or bored with a large auger into several
parts of. the land, Mr W edge found peat, gravel, and
sand mixed, and a quicksand almost uniformly. The
quicksand in every part, after getting an inch or two
into it, seemed almost as fluid as water. Judging from
this, that no materials for a drain could be laid in the
quicksand, but what it w'ould immediately bury, he
dug a trench almost to the quicksand, leaving gravel,
&c. of sufficient strength to bear up the materials for a
hollow drain ; these materials were two sides and a co¬
ver of stone, with a peat-turf on the top to keep out
the soil.. At every seven yards forward, by the side of
this drain, be dug a hole in the quicksand as deep as
it would permit. From these holes the Water rose free¬
ly into the hollow drain, and W'as by it discharged at a
proper level. It may be proper to remark, that the
stone made use of for this drain, and all others hero
mentioned, was a red sand and rag-stone, which easily
split into proper sizes for the purpose, and is very du¬
rable ; it cost about sixpence per ton getting, exclusive
of carriage. The drain thus formed ran on the whole
rather freely, and made the land dry for a few yards on
3 A each
369
Preparation
of Land.
70 A G R I C U
eparatioa each side thereof, but was far from having the effect he
of Land. Improperly expected } for it evidently appears that the
“ u 1 drain could only take a very small portion of the water
from so large a quicksand, which it did not penetrate
more than two inches ; and that it could drain only to
its own depth, or, at most, to that depth in the fountain
which supplied the quicksand. His purpose was then
defeated ; and his motive for mentioning this error can¬
not, he hopes, be mistaken.
He now did what he says he ought to have done be¬
fore, that is, he examined the different strata to a greater
depth, particularly on the hog, and at the upper edges
thereof, and found the bog to be what has been de¬
scribed under the first class. He therefore determined
to attempt the cure in the manner before prescribed for
that class, namely, to cut through the whole of the stra¬
tum (in this instance, of quicksand), through which
he found the water pass. This he effected as follows :
The summer being dry, and favourable for the purpose,
and having previously made his main open drain, he began
his main close drain the first week in June 1791, three
feet wide, on the declivity near the edge of the great
bog. In the first operation he dug through the peat,
the hard sand, and gravel, and one spade’s graft (about
nine inches deep and seven inches wide) into the quick¬
sand, the whole length of this drain, which was 73
perches, of eight yards to the perch, in length. The
drain thus dug ran copiously, not less than 60 gallons
per minute. In this state he left it about nine days :
the effect of it was rapid, both above the drain and on
the bog below. Upon examination, he now found about
three inches on the top of the spade’s graft, which had
been made into the quicksand, perfectly dry. He then
dug out these three inches of dry sand, to nearly the
whole width of the drain, three feet; and at the same
time dug out, as before, another spade’s graft, from the
top of the quicksand, as near the middle of the drain
as possible. This was left to run a few days, as before,
and had the same effect, namely, three or four inches
more of the top of the quicksand became dry and hard.
The same operation was repeated again and again with
the same effect, till the purpose of getting through this
quicksand was completed, so far at least as the level of
the main open drain would permit. The stream of wa¬
ter continued increasing during the whole operation ;
the bog below the drain was quite dry, and the land
above perfectly so. The drain which was first made,
and continued running for some time during the pro¬
gress of the main close drain, became gradually dry j
and has not, since that drain was finished, discharged
one single drop of water. Great care was necessary, in
making the main close drain, to keep the stream of wa¬
ter in the middle of it, otherwise the current would have
undermined the sides, as it sometimes had done, and
caused them to fall in. For this reason it was neces¬
sary, when the dry sand was taken from the top of the
quicksand, immediately to take out a spade’s graft from
the middle thereof, in. order to divert the current from
the sides.
The main close drain thus made was three feet wide
at top, about nine feet deep on the average, and, bevel¬
ling a little from the top, it was about one foot ten
inches rvide at the bottom. The stone and other ma¬
terials were put into this drain in the following manner :
1, Where the drain went through the quicksand into
3
L T U R E. Practici
the stratum of clay below it, as in most places it did,prc^r |j
the bottom, and in some instances the sides, wanted no of Land
particular security j but where it did not go quite
through the quicksand, which the level of his main
open drain in some places would not admit, the bottom
of the drain was covered half an inch thick with ling j
then peat turfs, one foot wide and three or four inches
thick, were cut in convenient lengths, and placed on
their edges on each side of the bottom of the drain,
forming two sides of a trough of peat $ then side stones
about eight inches high and a stone coverer, were put
in upon the ling between the peat turfs j a large peat-
turf, near two feet wide and four inches thick, was
then cut and firmly placed over the whole : this left in
the bottom of the drain an open space, of more than
six inches square, for the water to pass. The whole
was then completed by filling in the uppei* part of the
drain.
In this way the author drained for about Sol.
thirty acres of land, which, from being of no value
whatever, became worth at least 14 shillings per acre of
yearly rent. He likewise hollow-drained nine acres by
the method prescribed for the third class of wet land.
These drains were made a few yards below that part of
each field where the dry and wet land separate, about
22 inches deep, with sides and a coverer of stone, and
ling on the top of it, to keep the earth from running
in. The length of these drains was 880 yards, and the
expence of labour and materials three halfpence per
yard. The drains, in wet weather, discharge a large
quantity of water •, and will, he has no doubt, answer
the intended purpose. Thus far relates to land in his
own occupation.
Nine acres of the land in the earl of Aylesford’s oc¬
cupation was almost an entire pulp. This bog was of
the second class, namely, water passing through a
quicksand, and confined by a stratum of clay below,
and another stratum of elay above it. The water thus
confined, being pressed by its fountain, and forced up
through the weakest parts of the clay, had formed a
hog of irregular thickness on the surface, in some places
six feet deep, in others not more than two. As there
is a considerable fall in this land from east to west, he
thought it expedient to put two drains into it ; and
this appears to him to have been necessary, from a con¬
sideration that both these drains continue to run in the
same proportions as when first opened. The manner
in which these drains were executed was, by digging
through the different upper strata, and as deep into the
clay as the main open drain would admit: then dig¬
ging or borirtg through the remaining part of that clay
into the quicksand, at the distance of about six yards,
in a progressive manner.
The water rising rapidly through these holes into
the close drains, has effected a complete cure of this
land, every part of which will now bear a horse to
gallop upon it. These drains discharge 3660 gallons
an hour ; which is much less than they dul at first, as
must be the case in all hofrs. This land will be worth
20s. per acre. The draining cost 25I.; and the length
of the under ground drains is eight hundred and iour-
teen yards.
Mr Wedge had just finished (January 1792) drain¬
ing another piece of land, about forty-three acres. As
this was intended to answer two purposes, one, to drain
the
l it I- A G R I C
f (aration^1® the other to give an additional supply of wa-
Land. ter to a mill-pool, and as a circumstance arose in the
1 execution of the work winch frequently happens in
draining land, namely, a sudden alteration in the po¬
sition of the under strata ; a description thereof will
not probably be thought tedious. This draining was
begun at the level of a mill-pool, and continued, with¬
out any great difficulty, to the distance of about thirty-
two chains, m the manner before described as a cure
for the second class of boggy land : but at or near that
place the understrata altered their position j- the quick¬
sand which conveyed the water now became of twice
its former thickness j and the clay, which had hitherto
been above that quicksand, for some distance disap¬
peared. From the quicksand thus becoming so much
deeper, he could not, with the level of the’ mill-pool,
cut through it; nor indeed, from the wetness of the
season, would such an operation have been proper. He
therefore continued a shallow drain to some distance,
making side-holes into the quicksand, which ran freely ;
but as this could not cure the whole of the bog below,
he branched out another drain (which was made by the
method described for curing the second class of wet or
boggy land), by sinking a close drain through the up¬
per strata into the upper clay, and then, at a small di¬
stance on one side of this close drain, boring a hole with
an auger through the remaining part of that clay into
the quicksand; and at every eight yards, as this close
drain advanced, still boring other holes, in the manner
before described : through many of these holes the wa¬
ter rushed with great rapidity. The water discharged
by these drains into the mill-^>ool is 168 gallons per mi¬
nute, or 3780 hogsheads in a day ; which is after the
rate of i,379>700 hogsheads in a year.
About six acres of this land were always sound j a-
bout twelve acres on the north side were an absolute
pulp, and the remaining twenty-six acres very unsound.
The whole is now sound, and will, when cultivated, be
worth 16s. per acre. This land would have been drain¬
ed at a much less expence into the main open drain ;
but then the water, which was much wanted for the
mill, would have been lost. These close drains are in
length 1452 yards, and cost 100I. of which about 30I.
L ought to be charged to the mill.
ling of With regard to the drainage of land-locked bogs,
** ockcd which are often situated so much lowef than the ground
around them, that the cutting a main drain would
cost more than the value of the land when drained j
the mode of proceeding, with a view at once cheaply
and effectually to relieve them "from the superfluous
moisture which renders them useless to agriculture, is
the following: A spot in the middle or lowest part of
the bog must be selected, towards which all the drains
must be conducted, as radii to a common centre.
When this central spot is properly cleared out to the
top of the clay, or retentive substratum, which in this
case must not be affected by water from below, but
only by surface or rain-water, a number of perforations
must be made with the auger, to give an outlet down¬
wards for the water, which will be absorbed by the
porous stratum below. A conduit should be formed
over the auger holes, by loose stones, placed in such a
manner as to prevent their being afterwards filled up
by any rubbish : or rather auger holes may not be suf-
hcientj and it may be a preferable plan to make a
U L T U R E.
37!
JKi'l-r". tl* lowest part of the hog, dugP„„arMjo.
through into the porous substrata. This pit ought to of Land.
be hUed with large stones, and the drains from the rest ' '
ot the field conducted to that spot, as mentioned in the
following quotation from the Agricultural Report of
Hertfordshire.-—“ If a pit is sunk 20 or 3c feet deep
in the middle of a field, through the Hertfordshire red,
flinty, and impervious clay, into the chalk below ;
when the usua! quantity of chalk is taken out, the pit
shaft is filled up with the flint taken out of the chalk
and clay, and the top drainage of this part of the field
is much shortened for ever af terwards, by making prin¬
cipal drains from the part of the field above the level of
the top of the pit terminate therein, as the superabun¬
dant moisture will escape through the flints in the pit
shaft to the chalk below. And if a drain is carried in¬
to a limestone quarry, it is seldom necessary to carry it
“ In dells or hollows, of considerable extent, cover¬
ed with an impervious stratum, and from which there
is no natural drainage, such as the valley between
Mold, the shire-town of Flintshire, and the adjoining
high land, a pit about four feet diameter, and 15 feet
deep, more or less, as the case may require, is sunk
through the impervious superstratum, into a pervious
stratum of gravel, and the rain water, and that of some
adjoining springs, are carried from the surface thereby ;
the pit is railed round to prevent cattle from falling
mto it. 1 must here remark, that though in this, as
well as in many other instances that may° be given, the
top water escaped through the pervious substratum, the
effect might have been directly the contrary. I there¬
fore recommend the impervious superstratum, in all
such cases, to be perforated by bore-rods, as the hole
made by them is easily stopped up.” ig
. In Dr Nugent’s travels through Germany, published German
in 1768, a mode of draining marshes upon similar prin-moc}e oi'
ciples is described, as having been practised in thatfraln*n^
country. He had only seen it performed on moor
grounds, though it is also successful with regard to
lakes. “ It is the nature, says he, of moors in general,
that beneath the turf or moss there is a loam which
hinders the moisture from penetrating; and this in¬
deed is what makes the marsh, and causes the luxuri¬
ant growth ot the turf or moss; but this loam or clay
is only a stratum, and far from being of an immense
depth ; under it is generally a sand, or some other sto¬
ny or loose soil.
“ Here reason readily informs us, that a middling
morass may be drained by perforating the clay, and
thus making way for the moisture to penetrate. In or¬
der to this, a pit is dug in the deepest part of the moor,
till they come below the obstructing clay, and meet
with such a spongy stratum as, in all appearance, will
be sufficient to imbibe the moisture of the marsh
above it. Into this pit the ebbing of the morass is
conveyed through a trench, and both the trench and
the pit are filled up after the first drain with large
broad stones, setting them edgewise, so as to leave in¬
terstices for carrying off the water ; then such stones
are laid over breadthwise, and these covered with loose
earth like that on the surface : when no such stones
are to be had, strong piles are rammed down the sides
of the trench, and broad boards laid across; and these
are covered with earth to a height fit for culture.
3 A 2 This
372
Preparation This is a matter of no great expence, the pit being as
of Land, near the morass as the water will admit, and the
trenches but short j then they have a drain unperceived,
which leaves the surface of the trenches for the plough ;
and in middling marshes, especially in such moors as
are only wet and damp, this method, though sometimes
slow, never fails taking effect *, and many tracts are
thereby made serviceable to the farmer or grazier.”
Draining in The writer of the Roxburghshire Agricultural Report
Roxburgh- represents himself as having successfully adopted a si¬
milar mode of draining. In that part of the country,
such of the waste lands, as are capable of being drained
so as to become arable, have, at the distance of from one
to six feet below the surface, a large stratum or seam
of a black slaty or metallic substance, generally from
20 to 25 feet in thickness. Below this is a layer of
whinstone rock of unknown depth. The black slaty
or metallic substance has no chinks or fissures, and is
impenetrable to water; but the whinstone rock beneath
it abounds with chinks and fissures, and will swallow up
any quantity of water poured into its bosom. The
uppermost surface of the soil is of a light mossy nature,
upon which the water stagnates in winter, so as to swell
and enlarge it to a considerable degree. In the spring
months, when dried by the sun and the wind, the moss
becomes tolerably firm, and produces a coarse unpro¬
fitable grass, mixed with short heather; neither of
which are of any value as food for sheep or cattle. In
the year 1784 the writer of the Report ploughed up
20 acres of the waste lands of the above description, a
part of them being situated on a level. This last part
was gathered into small ridges, and ploughed pretty deep,
and the stones removed. Thus it lay till midsummer
1785 ; but, during the spring, the sheep and cattle were
frequently driven upon it to tread it to a firm con¬
sistence. At midsummer it was gathered up again ;
and, to get the water out of the hollows of the ridges,
a pair of boring rods were obtained, which were put
down through the slaty substance to the whinstone rock
at sundry places. This effectually answered the pur--
pose. The tops of the holes were kept open with baskets
of loose stones over them, which were allowed to remain
or removed at pleasure, as the weather proved more or
less wet. In spring 1786 the land was in a condition
to sow almost as early as any other part of the farm,
the winter rains having found their way down into the
whinstone rock through the slaty substance, and the land
jgj speedily became and continued very valuable.
Draining of We may here add, that the modes of draining now
quarries and s£ate(| are also valuable for other purposes than those of
mines. agriculture. Quarries, for example, and marl pits may
often be cleared of water, by cutting off the springs by
which they are incommoded, or by letting down the
water into the next porous str-atum. The same may be
often done, with regard to deep mines, the working of
which may frequently be thus greatly facilitated. A
colliery for example, in Yorkshire had been wrought
for several years, and the water was raised from it about
60 yards by a steam engine. The proprietors having
bored about ten yards farther, to ascertain the thick¬
ness of a seam of coals ; as soon as the boring rods
were withdrawn, the water from the works, which usu¬
ally ran across that place, began to sink into the holes
made by the rods; and continuing to do so, the steam
engine became useless, as its pump had no longer any
water to draw. It must be observed, that the situation
Practice
was higher than the nearest valleys, or the level of thepre},a.at
sea; but this example shows of what extensive impor- of Land!
tance a knowledge of the principles upon which the a- *v-
bove modes of draining proceed may hereafter become.
3. Of rendering Mosses fit for Cultivation.
In many parts of the country a very serious obstruc¬
tion to the cultivation of large portions of territory arises
from the existence of mosses. It is, therefore, of much
importance to consider their natux-e, and how they are
to he rendered fertile. ^ I
With regard to the nature and origin of moss, the Natures]
celebrated Dr Anderson, whose works we have already origin of |
frequently quoted, advances this opinion, that moss is a®058^*
vegetable, or an assemblage of vegetables, growing or
living below, while at the top it is dead. Hence, he
distinguishes moss into two kinds ; quick moss, from
which peats are dug, on which no vegetables grow, and
in which no animals exist, while in its natural situation ;
and dead moss, which frequently covers the former, and
upon which heath and fog and coarse grasses grow,
and insects and other animals are found. Mr Head- Commmii-
rick states various objections to this opinion, some ofcaftons<0,
which appear to have great force. Thus, it is ob-
served, that the moss here supposed to be alive below tot, tol. I
the soil, has every mark of utter deadness and partial
dissolution. When tossed about in a very dark night,
it emits light like half-rotten wood, giving rise to fre¬
quent terrors in those who live in the vicinity of peat
bogs. It also seems a strange circumstance, and con¬
trary to the whole analogy of nature, to suppose that a
vegetable should grow, should form ligneous fibres, and
acquire inflammability, without the influence of the sun,
or contact with the air, during any period of its
growth. The true history of the origin of mosses seems
to be this: What are called the moss plants, amount
to about three hundred in number. They are extreme¬
ly hardy, and are capable of flourishing in the most cold
and bleak situations, providing they only are surrounded
by abundance of stagnating water. Accordingly, where-
ever water stagnates in a moderate quantity, they grow
up, and, by spreading themselves around, they increase
the stagnation. When they have arisen in this manner,
with the water around them, to a considerable height,
the lower parts of their stems being continually soaked
or macerated in water, cease to vegetate, and give forth
their juices to the surrounding fluid. As the moss
plants are extremely astringent, and contain large quan¬
tities of the gallic acid and tanning principle, the moss
water acquires these qualities, or becomes astringent, in
a great degree, and prevents any process of putrefaction
from taking place, or the stems of the moss plants from
suffering any proper process of rottenness or chemical
decomposition. Hence it is, that moss water has some¬
times been used for tanning leather, in the same manner
as the liquor of oak hark. In the mean time, while
the stems of the moss plants remain in this manner dead,
but prevented from rotting, or becoming the habitation
of animals which cannot live in a vegetable astringent
liquor, the tops of the plants that are at the surface ol
the water continue to grow, or new plants rise upon the
summits oi the dead ones, and continue their ascending
progress ; the whole being perhaps a sort of parasitical
plants, which can grow upon each other.
In this way, a moss proceeds, rising higher and higher,
till horn the nature of the adjoining country, and the
declivities
AGRICULTURE.
1 rt I.
L85
TJ k and
J'( w
m .
pLration declivities in it, the water cannot stagnate to any greater
[Land, depth. After the moss has come to this height, its
L  / farther growth is prevented ; its plants, unable to live
or grow without abundance of water, wither and die 5
the upper part of them being exposed to the action of
the air, suffers an ordinary process of decomposition,
like other vegetable remains, and is converted into a
sort of soil, upon which a few plants and reptiles are
sometimes found ; while at a small depth, that is to
say, below the surface of the stagnating water, the
whole stems of the ancient moss plants continue mace¬
rated in their own liquor, and preserved from putrefac¬
tion by it.
There are, however, two general kinds of mosses ;
black moss, and whitish or yellow moss. The black
moss is originally of a mahogany colour, but speedily
becomes black upon exposure to the air. The yellow¬
ish, or foggy moss, is much less compact than the for¬
mer, and retains a light or yellowish colour after it is
dried. It does not appear to be in such a perfect state
of maceration as the black moss, has less variety of
plants, and is never so solid. It is usually produced in
low warm situations, and appears to have grown rapid¬
ly ; whereas, the black moss is most commonly found
in cold elevated lands, and seems to have consisted of
a greater number of less luxuriant plants. Thus, moss
may be regarded as bearing some resemblance to timber,
which is always of a compact grain, and close texture,
in proportion to the severity of the climate of which it
is the product, or rather in proportion to the length of
time which it has taken to grow.
From what has been here stated, it will not be diffi¬
cult to understand the mode in which mosses come ori¬
ginally to find an existence, or to cover a piece of ter¬
ritory in any country. When a pool of water is spee¬
dily, or in a short time, formed to a great depth, no
moss appears *, but when a gradual stagnation to a small
depth takes place, upon any spot, especially in a cold
and exposed situation, there the moss plants (being the
only ones capable of subsisting on such a soil) speedily
grow up, and occupy the place of every other. Though
the quantity of water that originally stagnated there
might not be great, it is increased by degrees, in con¬
sequence of the additional obstruction produced by the
roots, stems, and leaves of the moss plants, till at last
it forms a bog of very great depth.—We have already
mentioned the nature and cause of the stagnation of
water. It may either occur in consequence of the fi¬
gure and quality of the soil making it tenaciously to re¬
tain the falling rains, or it may be the consequence of
springs or reservoirs of water pent up or confined in
the bowels ot the earth by an incumbent mass of clay.
Struggling to rise up through this clay, it will -wet
every part of it, and will slowly ooze through all its less
adhesive parts, and will form a soil fit only for the re¬
ception of moss plants, which wTill there, by obstructing
the departure of the moisture, which is constantly rising,
in the course of years rear up the surface into a com¬
plete and perfect peat-bog.
But mosses not only arise in particular situations, in
consequence of these operations of nature : They are
also produced as the result of certain exertions of human
industry. In almost all our mosses in this country great
numbers of trees of various sorts are found. They remain,
like the inferior parts or roots of moss plants, infused
und macerated in the moss water, but not rotted. The
AGRICULTURE.
373
5 pco-
by
trees and shrubs found at the bottom of mosses in Scot-Preparation
land, exhibit, perhaps, the whole variety of the native of Land.
trees and shrubs. Of trees, are found the oak, the ' *  
elm, the birch, the willow, the alder, and fir. Of
shrubs, we find the hazel, the dwarf willow, the gall
plant, and lastly, the heath plant. This last is of so
hardy a nature, that it often continues to rise upon the
moss during the whole period of its existence. Now,
it it should be supposed, that at any time extensive fo¬
rests of these trees were suddenly cut down by the ex¬
ertions of man, they would undoubtedly produce a
stagnation of water, and a bleakness of climate, that
would render the situation fit only to be inhabited by
moss plants, which would therefore speedily rise up,
and form a peat-bog, in which multitudes of trees and
shrubs would be found soaked in their own juice, and
in the astringent liquor resulting from the maceration
oi the stems of the moss plants. That in ancient times
old forests were thus destroyed by the efforts of man,
we have every reasou to believe. Not only in this,
country, but also in England and Ireland, there are
found in mosses vast numbers of trees standing with
then scumps erect, and their roots piercing the ground
in a natural posture as when growing. Many of those
trees are broken or cut off near the roots, and lie along,
and this usually in a north-east direction. People who
have been willing to account for this, have usually re¬
solved it into the effect of the deluge in the days of
Noah ; but this is a very wild conjecture, and is proved
false by many unanswerable arguments. The waters of
this deluge might indeed have washed together a great
number of trees, and buried them under loads of earth j.
but then they would have lain irregularly and at ran¬
dom 5 whereas, in this case, the trees all lie lengthwise
from south-west to north-east, and the roots all stand, in
their natural perpendicular posture, as close as the roots
of trees in a forest.
Besides, these trees are not all in their natural state,
but many of them have the evident marks of human
workmanship upon them, some being cut down with an
axe } some split, and the wedges still remaining in them ;
some burnt in different parts, and some bored through
with holes. These things are also proved to be of a
later date than the deluge, by other matters found
among them, such as utensils of ancient people and
coins of the Roman emperors.
It appears from the whole, that all the trees which
we find in this fossil state, originally grew in the very
places where we now find them, and have only been
thrown down and buried there, not brought from else¬
where. It may appear indeed an objection to this opi¬
nion, that most of these fossil trees are of the fir kind j
and that Caesar says expressly, that no firs grew in Bri¬
tain in his time : but this is easily answered by ob¬
serving that these trees, though of the fir kind, yet are
not the species usually called the fir, but pitch tree ;
and Caesar has nowhere said that pitch trees did not
grow in England. Norway and Sweden yet abound
with these trees ; and there are at this time whole fo¬
rests of them in many parts of Scotland, and a large
number of them wild upon a liiif at Wareton in Staf¬
fordshire to this day.
In Hatfield marsh, where such vast numbers of the
fossil trees are now found, there has evidently once
been a whole forest of them growing. The last of
these was found alive, and growing in that places,
withia.<
374 A G R I € U
Preparation ’mtliin years last past, and cut down for some com-
of { and. mon use.
' v——' It Js also objected by some to the system of the firs
growing where they are found fossil, that these coun¬
tries are all bogs and moors, whereas these sorts of
trees grow only in mountainous places. But this is
founded on an error j for though in Norway and Swe¬
den, and some other cold countries, the fir kinds all
grow upon barren and dry rocky mountains, yet in
warmer places they are found to thrive as well on wet
plains. Such are found plentifully in Pomerania, Li¬
vonia, Courland, &c. 5 and in the west parts of New
England there are vast numbers of fine stately trees of
them in low grounds. The whole truth seems to be,
that these trees love a sandy soil *, and such as is found
at the bottoms of all the mosses where these trees are
found fossil. The roots of the fir kind are always
found fixed in these ; and those of oaks, where they
are found fossil in this manner, are usually found fixed
in clay : so that each kind of tree is always found root¬
ed in the places where they stand in their proper soil j
and there is no doubt to be made but that they origi¬
nally grew there. When we have thus found that all
the fossil trees we meet wdth once grew in the places
where they are now buried, it is plain that in these
places there were once noble forests, which have been
destroyed at some time; and the question only remains
how and by whom they were destroyed. This we have
reason to believe, by the Roman coins found among
them, was done by the people of that empire, and that
at the time when they were established or establishing
themselves here.
Their own historians tell us, that when their armies
pursued the wild Britons, these people always shelter¬
ed themselves in the miry woods and low watery fo¬
rests. Caesar expressly says this j and observes, that
Cassibelan and his Britons, after their defeat, passed
the Thames, and fled into such low morasses and
woods that there was no pursuing them : and we find
that the Silures secured themselves in the same man¬
ner when attacked by Ostorius and Agricola. The
same thing is recorded of Yenutius king of the Bri-
gantes, who fled to secure himself into the boggy fo¬
rests of the midland part of this kingdom : and Hero-
dian expressly says, that in the time of the Romans
pushing their conquests in these islands, it w as the cus¬
tom of the Britons to secure themselves in the thick
forests which grew in their boggy and wet places, and
when opportunity ofl'ered, to issue out thence and fall
upon the Romans. The consequence of all this was
the destroying all these forests 5 the Romans finding
themselves so plagued with parties of the natives issuing
out upon them at times from the forests, that they gave
orders for the cutting down and destroying all the fo¬
rests in Britain which grew on boggy and wet grounds.
These orders were, punctually executed 5 and to this it
is owing that at this day we can hardly be brought to
believe that such forests ever grew with us as are now
found buried.
The Roman histories all join in telling us, that when
Suetonius Paulinus conquered Anglesea, he ordered
all the woods to he cut down there, in the manner of
the Roman generals in England : and Galen tells us,
that the Romans, after their conquest in Britain, kept
their soldiers constantly employed in cutting down fo¬
rests, draining of marshes, and paving of bogs. Not
L T U R E. Practice,
only the Roman soldiers were employed in this man- Preparation
ner, hut all the native Britons made captives in the of Land
wars were obliged to assist in it : and Lion Cassius ^
tells us, that the emperor Severus lost no less than
50,000 men in a few years time in cutting down the
woods and draining the bogs of this island. It is not
to be wondered at, that such numbers executed the im¬
mense destruction which we find in these buried forests.
One of the greatest subterranean treasures of wood is
that near Hatfield 5 and it is easy to prove, that these
people, to whom this havock is thus attributed, were
upon the spot where these trees now lie buried. The
common road of the Romans out of the south into the
north, was formerly from Lindum (Lincoln) to Sege-
lochum (Little Burrow upon Trent), and from thence
to Danum (Loncaster), where they kept a standing
garrison of Crispinian horse. A little off on the east,
and north-east of their road, between the two last-named
towns, lay the borders of the greatest forest, which
swarmed with wild Britons, who were continually mak¬
ing their sallies out, and their retreats into it again, in¬
tercepting their provisions, taking and destroying thei?
carriages, killing their allies and passengers, and di¬
sturbing their garrisons. This at length so exasperated
the Romans, that they were determined to destroy it
and to do this safely and effectually, they marched a-
gainst it with a great army, and encamped on a great
moor not far from Finningly: this is evident irom their
fortifications yet remaining.
There is a small town in the neighbourhood called
Osterfield; and as the termination field seems to have
been given only in remembrance of battles fought near
the towns whose names ended with it, it is not impro¬
bable that a battle -was fought here between all the
Britons who inhabited this forest and the Roman
troops under Ostorius. The Romans slew many of
the Britons, and drove the rest back into this forest,
which at that time overspread all this low country.
On this the conquerors taking advantage of a strong
south-west wind, set fire to the pitch-trees, of which
this forest was principally composed ; and when the
greater part of the trees was thus destroyed, the Ro¬
man soldiers and captive Britons cut down the re¬
mainder, except a few large ones which they left
standing as remembrances of the destruction of the
rest. These single trees, however, could not stand
long against the winds, and these falling into the rivers
which ran through the country, interrupted their cur¬
rents ; and the water then overspreading the level
country, made one great lake, and gave origin to the
mosses or moory bogs, which were afterwards formed
there, by the workings of the waters, the precipita¬
tion of earthy matter from them, and the putrefaction
of rotten boughs and branches of ti’ees, and the vast
increase of water moss and other such plants which
grow in prodigious abundance in all these sorts oi
places. Thus were these burnt and felled trees buried
under a new formed spongy and watery earth, and af¬
terwards found on the draining and digging through
this earth again.
Hence it is not strange that Roman weapons and
Roman coins are found among these buried trees 5 and
hence it is that among the buried trees some are lonnd
burnt, some chopped and hew n j and hence also it is that
the bodies of the trees all lie by their proper roots, and
with their tops lying north-east, that is, in that direc¬
tion
'art I.
A G R I
eviration tion in winch a south-west
[>|'Land, them down: hence also it
wind would have blown
s, that some of the trees
are found with their roots lying flat, these being not
cut or burned down, but blown up by the roots after¬
wards when left single ; and it is not wonderful, that
such trees as these should have continued to grow even
after their fall, and shoot up branches from their sides
which might easily grow into high trees. {Phil. Trans.
N° 275.).
By this system it is also easily explained why the moor
soil in the country is in some places two or three yards
thicker than in others, or higher than it was formerly,
since the growing up of peat earth or bog ground com¬
posed of moss plants is well known, and the soil added
by overflowing of waters is not a little.
As the Homans were the destroyers of this great
and noble forest, so they were probably also of the se¬
veral other ancient forests; the ruins of which fur¬
nish us with the bog wood of Staffordshire, Lanca¬
shire, Yorkshire, and other counties. But as the Ro¬
mans were not much in Wales, in the isle of Man, or
in Ireland, it is not to be supposed that forests cut down
by these people gave origin to the fossil wood found
there $ but though they did not cut down these fo¬
rests, others did; and the origin of the bog wood is
the same with them and with us. Holinshead in¬
forms us, that Edward I. being not able to get at the
Welsh because of their hiding themselves in boggy
%voods, gave orders at length that they should all be
destroyed by fire and by the axe ; and doubtless the
roots and bodies of trees found in Pembrokeshire un¬
der ground, are the remains of the execution of this
order. The fossil wood in the hogs of the island of
Man is doubtless of the same origin, though we have
not any accounts extant of the time or occasion of the
forests there being destroyed ; but as to the fossil trees
of the hogs of Ireland, we are expressly told, that
Henry II. when he conquered that country, ordered
all the woods to he cut down that grew in the low
parts of it, to secure his conquests, by cutting away the
places of resort of the rebels.
The tendency of our climate to produce in cold and
damp situations moss plants, which gradually form
around themselves a liquor which is the enemy of all
putrefaction, may be considered as a fortunate circum¬
stance, upon the whole, for the preservation of the
health of men and animals, as well as contributing to
other valuable purposes. In considering the nature of
moss, “ I cannot dismiss the subject (says Mr Head¬
rick) without suggesting my admiration at the benefi¬
cence of Providence, in having provided the moss plants
for the situations in which they grow : they afford an
immediate supply of fuel, and are the source from which
pit coal derives its origin, though trees, and all the
plants which abound in oils and carbon also contribute
to the supply of pit coal. Were the places now occu¬
pied by mosses divested of vegetables, or stored with
vegetables of a different character, they would become
noisome fens, which, by the emission of putrid gasses,
would spread all around them pestilence and death.
Mosses emit no noxious gasses, but rather, by growing
at the surface, where the plants are acted upon by the
sun’s rays, they perpetually throw out oxygen, and
thus contribute to the salubrity of the atmosphere.
The only effect with which they are chargeable is
forming magazines of moisture, -which by its exhala-
- . . - —   — _nly
tends to chill the moss, but it descends in hoar-frost
and mndews upon all the lands that are lower in point
ot situation. These last mentioned disadvantages are>
moie than amply compensated by the consideration that
moss is not only an inexhaustible magazine of manure
for otlier soils, hut may he converted into a most fertile
soil itself. After it is so converted, none of the defects
already stated are any longer applicable to it.”
Ibis gentleman analyzed chemically some specimens
of moss. He found that a small portion of Berkshire
peat, of great hardness, exhibited, when pounded in a
mortar and infused in warm water, a liquor that had
some slight marks of acidity by test paper. Gypsum
and sulphat of magnesia appeared to exist in it. A pu¬
rified potash produced an abundant precipitation of va¬
rious substances. A portion of this peat being burned,
gave forth at the close of the operation a sulphureous
smell and flame. The white ashes, after some days,
assumed a rusty colour, from iron contained in them.
Being washed, the liquor appeared to contain sulphates
of lime, magnesia, alumine, and iron. Black hard peat
of Swinridgemuir, in Ayrshire, when burned, gave
brown ashes which were attracted by the magnet. An
infusion of them in water exhibited no mark of acid or
of alkali, and the ingredients contained in it appeared
to be the same as in the Berkshire peat. Foggy or yel-
lovv peat yielded a smaller quantity of ashes, which were
white, and did not obey the magnet.
Moss water, obtained by squeezing light peats, con¬
tained gallic acid and tanning principle in great quan¬
tities. Quicklime appeared to be the most powerful
agent in precipitating every substance from the moss
water, and in rendering moss a compact and solid sub¬
stance ; a fact which, as will be afterwards noticed, has
been successfully taken advantage of in practice.
There are two ways in which a tract of territory
that is covered by moss may be reduced under the do¬
minion of the plough, or rendered fit for the purposes
of agriculture. The one consists of altogether remov¬
ing the mossy substance, or the whole wrecks of the
moss plants that have been accumulating for ages, and
endeavouring thereafter to cultivate the subsoil. The
other mode consists of converting the substance of the
moss into vegetable mould fit for bearing crops of
grain.
The first of these plans has been adopted with regard
to the moss of Kincardine, and the other has been suc¬
cessfully practised by Mr Smith of Swinridgemuir, in
Ayrshire ; and in imitation of him by various other
persons in different districts of the country. To each
of these we shall give attention. lS7
The moss of Kincardine is a remarkable tract ofThe moss
ground in the shire of Perth, in Scotland, which de-°f Kb1031-'
serves particular notice, both as a topographical curio-^ebre™°‘
sity or subject of natural history, and for the informa-man labour
tion, equally uncommon and important, which it affords,
respecting agricultural improvements, and the promo¬
tion of industry and population.
The moss of Kincardine is situated in the parish of
the same name, comprehended between the rivers Forth
and Teith, and in that district of Perthshire called
Monteith. The moss begins about a mile above the
confluence of these rivers; from thence it extends in
length
37^
Preparation length about four mnes, and fi-oni one to two in breadth}
of Laud. anci before the commencement of the operations (an
account of which is to be given), comprehended near
2000 Scots acres, of which about 1500 belong to the
estate of Blair Drummond, the property of the late Lord
Karnes, by his marriage with Mrs Drummond of Blair
Drummond.
As mosses are extremely various in their nature •, be¬
fore entering upon the improvements made in Kincar¬
dine moss, it will be proper to give a short description
of that moss, and of the subjacent soil which is the ob¬
ject of these improvements.
The moss lies upon a field of clay, which is a conti¬
nuation of those rich extensive fiats in the neighbour¬
hood of Falkirk and Stirling, distinguished by the name
of carses. This clay, which is one uniform homoge¬
neous mass sinking to a great depth, is found near the
surface, consists of different colours, and is disposed in
layers. The uppermost is gray ; the next is reddish ;
and the lowest, which is the most fertile, is blue.
Through the whole mass not a pebble is to be found.
The only extraneous bodies it contains are sea-shells,
which occur in all the varieties peculiar to the eastern
coast of Scotland. They are disposed sometimes in
beds, sometimes scattered irregularly at different depths.
Bv attending to these circumstances, it cannot be
doubted that the sea has been the means of the whole
accumulation, and that it was carried on in a gradual
manner by the ordinary ebb and flow of the tide.
Upon any other supposition, why should there not have
been a congeries of all the different materials that com¬
pose the surface of the surrounding heights P But to
whatever cause the origin of this accumulation may be
ascribed, certain it is that no soil whatever is more fa¬
vourable to vegetation, or carries more abundant crops
of every kind.
The surface of the clay, which, upon the retreat of
the sea, had been left in an almost level plane, is every¬
where thickly covered with trees, chiefly oak and birch,
many of them of a great size. These trees seem to have
been the first remarkable produce of the carse ; and it
is probable they were propagated by dissemination frojn
the surrounding eminences. rlhey are round lying in
all directions beside their roots, which still continue
firm in the ground in their natural position j and from
impressions still visible, it is evident they have been cut
with an axe or some similar instrument. For the cut¬
ting of wood, the two common purposes are, either to
apply it to its proper use, or that the ground it occupies
may be cultivated. In this present case, however, nei¬
ther of these ends had been proposed, since the trees,
bv being just left as they were cut, were not only en¬
tirely lest, but the ground was rendered totally unfit
for cultivation. Hence it is evident, that the downfal
of this wood must be ascribed tosomemore extraordinary
cause j and to none more probably than to that expe¬
dient, which, as we learn from Dion Cassius and other
historians, the Romans put so extensively in practice to
dislodge from their forests the ancient inhabitants of the
British islands, as already explained.
This hypothesis acquires no small degree of force
from a circumstance that occurred in May 1768, when
a large round vessel of thin brass and curious workman¬
ship/25 inches in diameter, and 16 inches in height,
Practice.
was discovered upon the surface of the clay buried un- prej)aratiw
der the moss. This vessel, found upon the estate of of Land,
John Ramsay, Esq. of Ochtertyre, was by that gentle-—->
man presented to the Antiquarian Society of Edin¬
burgh 5 in whose museum it remains deposited for pre¬
servation. And in a list of the various donations pre¬
sented to that society, published by them in 1782, it
is there denominated a Roman camp kettle.
Between the clay and the moss is found a stratum
nine inches thick, partly dark brown and partly of a
colour approaching to black. This is a vegetable
mould, accumulated probably by the plants that cover¬
ed the ground previous to the growth of the wood, and
by leaves from the trees thereafter. The difference of
colour must be owing to a difference in the vegetable
substances that compose it. The brown mould is high¬
ly fertile •, the other, especially in a dry season, is very
unproductive. The crop that had occupied this mould
when the trees were felled is found still entire. It
consists chiefly of heath j but several other smaller
plants are also very distinguishable.
Immediately above this stratum lies the moss, to the
height, upon an average, of seven feet. It is com¬
posed of different vegetables arranged in three distinct
strata. Of these the first is three feet thick. It is
black and heavy, and preferable to the others for the
purpose of fuel. It consists of bent grass (agrostis)^
which seems to have grown up luxuriantly among the
trees after they wTere felled. The second stratum also
is three feet thick. It is composed of various kinds
of mosses, but principally of bog-moss {sphagnuni). It
is 6f a sallow or iron colour, and remarkably elastic. It
is commonly called white peat; and for fuel is consi¬
dered as much inferior to that above mentioned. The
third stratum is composed of heath and a little bent
grass, but chiefly of the deciduous parts of the former.
It is about a foot thick, and black.
By far the greatest part of the moss in question is,
upon an average, full seven feet deep, and has in all
probability lain undisturbed since its formation : this is
called the High Moss. The remainder, called the Loiu
Moss, lies to a considerable breadth around the extremi¬
ties of the high ; and is, upon an average, not above
three feet in depth, to which it has been reduced by the
digging of peats. These are formed of that stratum of
the moss only that lies four feet below the surface and
downwards ; the rest is improper for the purpose, and
is thrown aside.
Before the introduction of the plan which is now
pursued, two methods chiefly were employed to gain
land from the moss. 1st, The surrounding farmers mark¬
ed off yearly a portion of the low moss next to their
arable land, about 15 feet broad. This they removed
with carts and spread upon their fields, some acres of
which they for that end left unsown. Here it lay till
May or June 5 when, being thoroughly dry, it was
burnt to ashes to serve as a manure. By this means
they added to their farms about half a rood of land
yearly. But this plan proved unsuccessful; lor by the
repeated application of these ashes, the soil was ren¬
dered so loose that the crops generally failed. 2dly,
Many farmers rvere wont to trench clown the low moss,
and to cover it furrow deep with clay taken out of the
trench. This, though commendable as an attempt to
improve,
AGRICULTURE.
2
Practice. A G R I C
ceparation improve, proved likewise an unavailing method; be¬
ef Land, cause in a dry season the superficial covering of clay re-
v tains so little moisture that the crop commonly fails.
It has been attempted to cover the moss with clay
brought from the adjacent grounds. But what from
the necessary impoverishment of the ground from which
the clay was carried, and the softness of the moss, this
was soon found to be impracticable.
Draining has also been proposed as another mode of
improvement; and it must be acknowledged, that, by
means ol draining, many mosses have been converted
both into arable and meadow grounds, which in the
end became interesting improvements. But in a moss,
such as that of Kincardine, this method would be inef¬
fectual ; as for several feet deep it is of such a nature,
that upon being dry, and divided into parts, it would
blow with the wind like chaff j and when thrown aside
an the operation of digging peats, it lies for years with¬
out producing a single vegetable, except only a few
plants of sorrel.
Hence it was thought evident, that all attempts to im¬
prove this moss must ever prove abortive ; and that the
object to be had in view was the acquisition of the va¬
luable soil lying underneath ; to which end nothing less
was requisite than the total abolition of the moss.
By the methods above described from 100 to 200
acres of moss had been removed. When the present
plan was introduced, there still remained covered with
moss from 1300 to 1400 acres of carse clay—a treasure
for which it must be ever interesting to dig.
In the year 1766 Lord Karnes entered into possession
of the estate ol Blair Drummond. Long before that
period he was well acquainted with the moss, and often
lamented that no attempt had ever been made to turn
it to advantage. Many different plans wei*e now pro¬
posed •, at length it was resolved to attempt by means
of water, as the most powerful agent, entirely to sweep
oil the whole body of moss.
That moss might be floated in water, was abundant¬
ly obvious ; but to find water in sufficient quantity was
difficult, the only stream at hand being employed to
turn a corn mill. Convinced ol the superior conse¬
quence of dedicating this stream to the purpose of float¬
ing oft the moss, Lord Karnes having made an agree¬
ment with the tenant who farmed the mill, and the te¬
nants thirled consenting to pay the rent, he immediate¬
ly threw down the mill, and applied the water to the
above purpose.
In order to determine the best manner of conducting
the operation, workmen were now employed for a con¬
siderable time upon the low moss, both by the day and
by the piece, to ascertain the expence for which a gi¬
ven quantity of moss could be removed. It was then
agreed to operate at a certain rate per acre ; and in
this manner several acres were removed.
But this was to be a very expensive process. The
ground gained might, indeed, be afterwards let to te¬
nants 5 but every acre would require an expenditure
from 12I. to 15I. before it could be ready for sowing*,
so that the acquisition of the whole, computing it at a
medium to be 1360 acres, would sink a capital of near¬
ly 20,000!. sterling.
One other method still remained 5 namely, to at¬
tempt letting portions of the moss, as it lay, for a term
w years sufficient to indemnify tenants for the expences
Vol. I. part L * ^
u L T U R E. 377
incurred in removing it. For some time botli these p„pJa,io„
plans were adopted ; but several reasons made the lat- of Land,
ter preferable ri. The quantity of water to be had was 1
small ; and being also uncertain, it was very inconve¬
nient for an undertaker $ neither were there any houses
near the spot, which occasioned great loss of time in
going and coming: but when a man should live upon
the spot, then he could be ready to seize every op¬
portunity. 2. The moss was an useless waste. To let
it to tenants would increase the population of the
estate, and afford to a number of industrious people the
means ol making to themselves a comfortable liveli¬
hood.
In the mean time it was determined, till as many
tenants should be got as could occupy the whole water,
to carry on the work by means of undertakers.
But before proceeding farther, it will be necessary to
describe the manner of applying water to the purpose
of floating the moss.
A stiearn of water sufficient to turn a common corn-
mill will carry off as much moss as 20 men can throw
into it, provided they be stationed at the distance of
100 yards from each other. The first step is to make
in the clay, alongside of the moss, a drain to convey
the water : and for this operation the carse clay below
the moss is peculiarly favourable, being perfectly free
from stones and all other extraneous substances, and at
the same time, when moist, slippery as soap ; so that not
only is it easily dug, but its lubricity greatly facilitates
the progress of the water when 'loaded with moss.
The dimensions proper for the drain are found to be
two feet for the breadth and the same for the depth.
If smaller, it could not conveniently receive the spade-
fulls of moss; if larger, the water would escape, leav¬
ing the moss behind. I he drain has an inclination
of one foot in 100 yards 5 the more regularly this in¬
clination is observed throughout, the le/s will the moss
be liable to obstructions in its progress with the water.
The drain being formed, the operator marks oft' to a
convenient extent alongside of it a section of moss,
10 feet broad 3 the greatest distance from which he
can heave his spadeful into the drain. This he re¬
peatedly does till the entire mass be removed down to
the clay. He then digs a new drain at the foot of
the moss bank, turns the water into it, and proceeds as
before, leaving the moss to pursue its course into the
river Forth, a receptacle equally convenient and capa¬
cious 3 upon the fortunate situation of which, happily
forming for several miles the southern boundary of the
estate, without the interposition of any neighbouring
proprietor, depended the very existence of the whole
operations.
When the moss is entirely removed, the clav is
found to be encumbered with the roots of different
kinds of trees standing in it as they grew, often verv
large : their trunks also are frequently found lying
beside them. All these the tenants remove, often with
great labour. In the course of their operations they
purposely leave upon the clay a stratum of moss six
inches thick. This, in spring, when the seasoq offers,
they reduce to ashes, which in a great measure ensures
the first crop. The ground thus cleared is turned over,
where the dryness admits, with a plough, and, where
too soft, with a spade. A month’s exposure to the
sun, wind, and frost, reduces the clay to a powder
.3 B fitting
378
Pieparatlo'i
of Land.
AGRICULTURE. Practice
fitting it for the seed in March and April. A crop of
oats is the first, which seldom fails of being plentiful,
yielding from eight to ten bolls after one.
In tlie year 1767 an agreement was made with one
tenant for a portion of the low moss. This, as being
the first step torvards the intended plan, was then view¬
ed as a considerable acquisition. The same terms agreed
upon with tins tenant have ever since been observed
with all the rest. They are as follow:
The tenant holds eight acres of moss by a tack of
38 years ; he is allowed a proper quantity of timber,
and two bolls of oatmeal to support him while employ¬
ed in rearing a house 5 the first seven years he pays no
rent 5 the eighth year he pays one merk Scots ; the
ninth year two merks; and so on with the addition of
one merk yearly till the end of the first 19 years ; dur¬
ing the last five years of which he also pays a hen yearly.
Upon the commencement of the second 19 years, he
begins to pay a yearly rent of 12s. for each acre of
land cleared from moss, and 2s. 6s. for each acre not
cleared, also two hens yearly : A low rent indeed for
so fine a soil : but no more than a proper reward for
his laborious exertions in acquiring it.
In the year 1768 another tenant was settled. These
two were tradesmen j to whom the preference was al¬
ways given, as having this great advantage to recom¬
mend them, that even when deprived of water they
need never want employment. The motives that indu¬
ced these people to become settlers were, 1st, The pro¬
spect of an independent establishment for a number of
years. 2dly, The moss afforded them great abundance
of excellent fuel ; to which w'as added the comfortable
consideration, that, while busied in providing that ne¬
cessary article, they had the double advantage of pro¬
moting, at the same time, the principal object of their
settlement.
Notwithstanding these inducements, still settlers of¬
fered slowly : to which two circumstances chiefly con¬
tributed : 1st, The whole farmers surrounding the moss
threw every possible obstruction in their way. 2dly, By
people of all denominations the scheme was viewed as
a chimerical project, and became a common topic of
ridicule. The plan, however, supported itself j and
in the year 1769 five more tenants agreed for eight
acres each *, and thus 56 acres of low moss were dis¬
posed of. From the progress made by the first settlers,
and the addition of these, the obloquy of becoming
a moss tenant gradually became less regarded ; so that
in the year 1 772 two more were added 5 in 1773, three ;
and in 1774, one ; in all 13 : which disposed of 104
acres : all the low moss to which water could then be
conveyed. As water is the mainspring of the opera¬
tion, every tenant, besides the attention necessary to
his share of the principal stream, collected water by
every possible means, making ditches round his por¬
tion of the moss, and a reservoir therein to retain it till
wanted.
The tenants in the low moss having novy begun to
raise good crops, in the year 1774 several persons of¬
fered to take possessions in the high moss, upon con¬
dition that access to it should be rendered practicable.
The high moss wanted many advantages that the low
possessed. To the low moss, lying contiguous to the
surrounding arable lands, the access was tolerably good 5
but from the arable lands the high moss was separat¬
ed by 300 or 400 yard3 of the low, which even to aprtl)amioi,
man, affords but indifferent footing, and to horses is of Land,
altogether impracticable. The low moss is in general ^
only three feet deep ; the high moss is from six to
twelve feet in depth.
It will appear at first sight, that without a road °f
communication the high moss must forever have proved
unconquerable. Without delay, therefore, a road was
opened to the breadth qf 1 2 feet, for several hundred
yards in length, by floating off the moss down to the
clay. .
This being effected, and at the same time an opening
given to admit water, in the year 1775 twelve tenants
agreed for eight acres of high moss each. In consider¬
ation of the greater depth of this part of the mqss, it
was agreed, that during the first 19 years they should
pay no rent j but for the second 19 years the terms of
agreement were the same as those made with the tenants
in the low moss. To the above-mentioned tenants
every degree of encouragement was given j as upon
their success depended, in a great measure, the disposal
of the great quantity of moss still repaaiping. But
their success, however problematical, was such, that
next year, 1776, six more took eight acres each j in
1777, one j in 1778, four*, in 1779, three-, in 1780,
one j in 1781, one; in 1782, one:—In all, including
those upon the low moss, 42 tenants, occupying 336
acres.
Though for some time the disposal of the high moss
went but slowly 011, it was not for want of tenants ;
but the number of operators was already sufficient for
the quantity of water ; to have added more would evi¬
dently have been imprudent.
In the year 1783 Mr Drummond entered into the
possession of the estate of Blair Drummond, and went
fully into the plan adopted by his predecessor for sub¬
duing the moss. At this tipie there still remained
undisposed of about 1000 acres of high moss. As
water was the great desideratum, it was determined,
that to obtain that necessary article, neither pains nor
expence should be wanting. Steps were accordingly
taken to ascertain in what manner it might be procur¬
ed to most advantage.
Meanwhile, to prepare for new tenants, a second
road parallel to the former, at the distance of half a
mile, was immediately begun and cut, with what wa¬
ter could be got, down to tl;e clay, 1 2 feet broad and
2670 yards long, quite across the moss. This open¬
ing was previously necessary, that operators might get
a drain formed in the clay to direct the water ; and it
■was to retpain as road that was absolutely necessary,
and which relieved settlers from an expence they were
unable to support. These preparations, the progress
of the former tenants, and the prospect of a farther
supply of water, induced 10 more to take possessions in
the year 17.83 : in the year 1784, 18 more took pos¬
sessions; and in 1785 no fevyer than 27: in all 55
tenants in three years : which disposed of 440 acres
more of the high moss.
As the introduction qf an additional stream to the
moss was to be a work bqth of nicety and expence, it
was necessary to proceed with caution. For this reason
several engineers were employed to make surveys and
plans of the different modes by which it might he pro¬
cured. In one point they all agreed, that the pro-
per
AGRICULTURE.
3art I.
'reparation per source for farnfsliing that supply was the river
ot Lan ‘, Teith, a large and copious stream that passes within a
mile of the moss j but various modes were proposed for
effecting that purpose.
To carry a stream from the river by a cut or canal
into thfe moss was found to be impracticable j and Mr
Whitworth (b) gave in a plan of a pumping machine,
which he was of opiriioft wotald answer the purpose ex¬
tremely well.
Soon after this Mr George Meikle of Alloa, a very
s'kilful and ingenious millwright, gave in a model of a
wheel for raising Wafer entirely of a new construc¬
tion, of his own and his father’s invention jointly.
This machine is so exceedingly simple, and acts in a
nianner so easy, natural, and uniform, that a common
observer is apt to undervalue the invention : But per¬
sons skilled in mechanics view machinery with a very
different eye j for to them simplicity is the first recom¬
mendation a machine can possess. Accordingly, up¬
on seeing the model set to work, Mr Whitworth,
with that candour and liberality of mind that gene¬
rally accompany genius and knowledge, not only gave
it the greatest praise, but declared that, for the pur¬
pose Required, it was superior to the machine recom¬
mended by himself, and advised it to be adopted with¬
out hesitation.
The better to explain this machine, two sketches are
annexed, to the first of which the following letters re¬
fer. The explanation of the second will be found up¬
on the sketch.
late XIII. a, Sluice through which is admitted the water that
moves the wheel.
3, A, Two sluices through Which is admitted the wa¬
ter raised by the wheel.
c, c, A part of one of two wooden troughs and an
aperture in the wall, through which the above water is
conveyed into the buckets. [The other trough is hid
by two stone walls that support the wheel.]
t/, d, d, Buckets, ot which 80 are arranged on each
side of the arms of the wheel=i6o.
e, e, e, A cistern into which the water raised by the
buckets is discharged.
fi f .f Wooden barrel pipes, through which the
water descends froin the cistern under ground to avoid
the high road from Stirling, and the private approach
to the house.
Sketch second contains a plan of the cistern, and ex¬
hibits the manner in which the water is filled into the
buckets.
The diameter of the wheel to the extremities of the
float-boards is 28 feet j the length of the float-boards
10 feet. The wheel makes nearly four revolutions per
minute; in which time it discharges into the cistern
40 hogsheads of water. But this is not all the wheel
is capable of performing ; for by several accurate trials
by Messrs Whitworth and Meikle, in the result of
which, though made separately, they perfectly agreed,
it was found that the wheel was able to lift no less than
60 hogsheads per minute; but that the diameter of the
pipes through whieli the water descends from the ci-
tern would not admit a greater quantity than what they Preoaratioa
already rece,ve. ofpJiand_
10 a person at all conversant in hydraulics, the re- ■■■<
semblance of this to the Persian wheel must be obvious ;
-d indeed it is probable, that from the Persian wheel
the first idea of this machine was derived. But admit¬
ting this, still the superiority of the present wheel is,
in most respects, so conspicuous, as to entitle it to little
less praise than the first invention. For, 1st, In the
Peisian wheel, the buckets being all moveable, must be
constantly going out of order: in this wheel they are
all immoveable, consequently can never be out of order.
2dly, Instead of lifting the water from the bottom
of the fall, as in the Persian wheel, the wheel lifts it
from the top of the fall, being from four to five feet
higher; by which means some additional power is gain-
ed. 3dly, By means of the three sluices (a, and b,b,
fig. I.) in whatever situation the river may be, the
quantity of the water to be raised is so nicely adjusted
to that of the moving power, as constantly to preserve
the wheel in a steady and equable motion. In short,
as a regulator is to a watch, so are these sluices to this
wheel, whose movements would otherwise be so various,
as sometimes to carry the water clear over the cistern,
sometimes to drop it entirely behind, but seldom so as
fully to discharge the whole contents of the bucket into
the cistern.
It is however but candid to remark, that this machine
labours under a small defect, which did not escape the
observation of Mr Whitworth j namely, that by raising
the water about 34 feet higher than the cistern where
it is ultimately delivered, a small degree of power is
lost. To this, indeed, he proposed a remedy j but can¬
didly confessed, that as it would render the machine
somewhat more complex, and would also increase the
friction, he thought it more advisable to keep it in its
present state. At the same time he justly observed,
that as the stream by which the wheel is moved is at
all times copious and powerful, the small loss of power
occasioned by the above circumstance was of little or
no avail.
This stream is detached from the Teith at the place
where the river approaches nearest to the moss. The
surface of the latter is about 15 feet higher than that
of the former; the cistern is therefore placed 17 feet
above the surface of the stream, so as to leave a decli¬
vity sufficient to deliver the water upon the surface of
the moss.
The pipes through which the water descends from
the cistern are composed of wooden barrels hooped with
iron, 4 feet long and 18 inches in diameter within.
In these pipes, having been conveyed under ground
f°r 354 yards from the cistern, the water at once emer¬
ges into an open aqueduct. The aqueduct which was
formed according to a plan by Mr Whitworth, is con¬
structed wholly of earth or clay ; and in order to keep
the water on a level with the surface of the moss, it is
for nearly two-thirds of its course elevated from 8 to
10 feet above the level of tlie adjacent grounds j the
base being 40 feet broad, the summit 18 feet, and the
3 B 2 waiter
(b) This gentleman was superintendant of the London
England. He was several years employed in Scotland in
water-works, and an engineer of great reputation in
completing the great canal.
3?°
Preparation
of I^and.
AGRICULTURE. Practice.
water course 10 feet broad. It commences at the ter¬
mination of the pipes ; from whence extending above
1400 yards, it discharges the water into a canal formed
for its reception on the surface of the moss.
For raising the water to this height there were two
reasons : 1st, That not only where it was delivered on
the moss, but even after being conveyed to the most
distant corners, it might still retain sufficient power to
transport the moss to the river Forth, idly, That re¬
servoirs of a sufficient height might be formed in the
moss to retain the water delivered during night.
In consequence of Mr Whitworth’s advice, a con¬
tract was entered into with Mr Meikle in spring l;^7 ?
and by the end of October in that year, the wheel,
pipes, and aqueduct, were all completely finished ; and
what, in so complex and extensive an undertaking, is
by no means common, the difierent branches of the
work were so completely executed, and so happily ad¬
justed to each other, that upon trial the effect answered
the most sanguine expectations. The total expence ex¬
ceeded 1000I. sterling.
To induce the proprietor to embark in this under¬
taking, the moss tenants had of their own accord pre¬
viously come under a formal engagement to pay the
interest of any sum that might be expended in procur¬
ing a supply of water. But he was determined they
should not enjoy by halves the sweets of this long
wished for acquisition. With a view, therefore, not
only to reward their past industry, but to rouse them
to future exertion, he at once set them free from
their engagement ; nor has any interest ever been de¬
manded.
This new supply w’as a most acceptable boon to the
moss tenants. In order to make an equitable distribu¬
tion, the water raised through the day was allotted
to one division of operators ; that raised during the
night to another. To retain the latter, a canal was
formed, extending almost three miles through the centre
of the moss. From place to place along the sides are
inserted sluices to admit water to the reservoirs of the
possessors 5 each sluice having an aperture proportioned
to the number of operators to be supplied from the re¬
servoir which it fills. For the water raised through the
day no reservoirs are necessary; as it is immediately
used by the division to which it is allotted.
This additional stream, though highly beneficial, yet
is not more than sufficient to keep 40 men at constant
work. But such a quantity as would give constant
work is not necessary : the operators must be often em¬
ployed in making and repairing their drains, grubbing
up roots of trees, &c. j so that a quantity sufficient to
give five or six hours work per day to the whole inha¬
bitants is as much as would be wanted. But as the
quantity procured was still insufficient for this purpose,
a small stream that descended from the higher grounds
was diverted from its course and brought into the moss.
From want of level this stream could not be delivered
to the greatest advantage j namely, upon the surface
of the moss. Yet by making, at a considerable ex¬
pence, a drain half a mile long, and a reservoir for the
night water, it was rendered of much importance : and
during the whole winter months, as well as in sum¬
mer, after every fall of rain, it keeps 15 persons fully
employed.
In the year 1787, two more tenants agreed forpfeparatiotl
eight acres each j in 1788, four; in 1789. eight j in of Land.
1790, four tenants, all agreed for the same number of r—-»
acres.
The whole moss was now disposed of, except that
part called Flow Moss, which comprehended about 400
acres. Here it is twice the usual breadth, so fluid that
a pole may be thrust with one hand to the bottom j
and the interior part, for near a mile broad, is three
feet above the level of all the rest of the moss. Hi¬
therto the many and various difficulties that presented
themselves had been overcome by perseverance and
expence. But here the extraordinary elevation of
the morass, joined to its great fluidity, seemed to ex¬
clude all possibility of admitting a stream of water $
and it was the general opinion that the moss opera¬
tions had now arrived at their ne plus ultra, and that
this morass was doomed to remain a nuisance for ages
to come.
But the proprietor had now advanced so far that he
could not submit to retreat: and he considered himself
as in some measure pledged to the country for the
completion of this undertaking. To detail the va¬
rious methods practised to introduce a stream of water
into that morass, would prove tedious. It is sufficient
to say, that after a thousand unsuccessful efforts, at¬
tended with much trouble and considerable expence,
the point at last was gained, and a stream of water was
brought in and carried fairly across the centre of the
morass.
The greatest obstacle was now indeed overcome j
but still another remained of no small moment, namely,
the discouragement given to settlers from the total im¬
possibility of erecting habitations upon the surface of
this morass. To find a remedy for this evil was diffi¬
cult. Happily a resource at last occurred. This was
to bargain with a certain number of the old tenants,
whose habitations were nearest, to take leases of porr
tions of the morass. But as some additional aid was
here necessary, it was agreed that 12I. sterling should
be gradually advanced to each tenant till he should ac¬
complish the clearing of an acre, for which he or his
successor is bound to pay 12S. of yearly rent, equal to
five per cent, upon the sum advanced. When this point
shall be gained, they are bound to dispose, as most a-
greeable to themselves, either of their old or ot their
new possession j for which, when once an acre is clear¬
ed, purchasers will not be wanting.
In consequence of the above arrangement, during
the year 1791 no fewer than 35 of the old tenants
agreed, upon the foresaid conditions, for eight acres
each of the flow moss. Thus 1200 acres are now
disposed of to 115 tenants. But when these 35 tenants
shall each have cleared their acre, then, according to
agreement, 35 additional tenants will speedily be ac¬
quired j and the moss will then contain in all 150 fa¬
milies.
To the leases at first granted to the tenants in the high
moss, it was afterwards determined to add a further pe¬
riod of 19 years (making in all 57 years), during which
they are to pay one guinea per acre j a rent not great¬
er than the land is worth even at present, but greatly
below its probable value at that distant period. This,
it is hoped, will prove to the tenants a sufficient incite¬
ment
; irt I.
] paration ment to continue their operations till their possessions
Land. are completely cleared from moss.
Having now gone through, in detail, the whole pro¬
gress of the colony for many years after its first settle¬
ment in the year 1767, it still remains to take a gene¬
ral view of the effects produced by that establishment.
For several years, at first, the water was used chiefly
to carry off' moss, in the forming of new roads, and
preparing reservoirs j which considerably retarded the
principal object, of gaining land. Nevertheless there
have been cleared full 300 acres of excellent land, pro¬
ducing wheat, barley, oats, and clover, yielding from
six to twelve bolls after one.
From the nature of the undertaking, there is good
reason to suppose that the operations will yearly ad¬
vance with greater rapidity ; especially as the greater
number of the settlers have only of late begun to ope¬
rate. Many, besides maintaining their families other¬
wise by occasional employments, have in the high
moss cleared in a year one rood of land j some have
cleared two, some three roods, and in the low moss an
acre.
It was a remark often made, even by persons of some
observation, that by collecting together such a num¬
ber of people, Kincardine would be overstocked ; and
the consequence would be their becoming a burden on
the parish : for as the bulk of them were labourers not
bred to any trade, and possessed of little stock, it was
foreseen, that, for some time, they could not afford
to confine themselves solely to the moss, from which
the return must be slow j but behoved, for immediate
subsistence, to work for daily hire. Happily these pre¬
dictions have proved entirely groundless 5 for such is
the growing demand for hands in this country, that
not only do the whole of these people find employment
whenever they choose to look for it, but their wages
have been yearly increasing from the time of their first
establishment. In short, they have proved to the
corner where they are set down a most useful nursery
of labourers j and those very farmers, who, at first, so
strongly opposed their settlement, now fly to them as
a sure resource for every purpose of agriculture. Still
they consider the moss operations as their principal
business; none pay them so well ; and when they do
leave it to earn a little money, they return with cheer¬
fulness to their proper employment. Many of them
already raise from 10 to 60 bolls of grain, and have no
occasion to go oft to other work ; which rvill soon be
the case with the whole. Their original stock, indeed,
did not often exceed 25I. and some had not even 10I.;
but what was wanting in stock is compensated by in¬
dustry.
Of the whole inhabitants full nine tenths are High¬
landers, from the neighbouring parishes of Callander,
Balquhidder, &c. ; a sober, frugal, and industrious
people, who, inured to hardships in their own country,
are peculiarly qualified to encounter so arduous an un¬
dertaking. From this circumstance, too, arises a very
happy consequence ; that wearing a different garb and
speaking a different language from the people amongst
38T
whom they are settled, they consider themselves in a Preparation
manner as one family transported to a foreign land : of Land,
and hence upon all occasions of difficulty, they fly ' v- 1
with alacrity to each others relief. Neither ought it
to be forgotten, that, from their first settlement to
the present day, not a single instance has occurred a-
mongst them of theft, bad neighbourhood, or of any
other misdemeanour, that required the interposition of
the civil magistrate. Nor, however poor in circum¬
stances, has any one of them ever stooped to solicit as¬
sistance from the funds of the parish appropriated to
that purpose.
Though few of the tenants entered with a large
stock, one only has been obliged to leave the moss
from incapacity to proceed. Many indeed have spent
their small stocks, and even run a little in debt : but
in this case they have been permitted to sell their tacks
upon the following conditions : 1st, That the purchaser
shall be a good man; 2dly, That the seller shall take
another possession. By this manoeuvre a new inhabi¬
tant is gained ; while the old one, relieved from debt,
and aided by past experience, recommences his opera¬
tions with double spirit upon a new possession. The
moneyed man again has at once a house and a piece of
ground, the want of which chiefly startled new begin¬
ners.
Some have even made a kind of trade of selling ;
insomuch, that from the year 1774 to the year 1792,
no fewer than fifty sales have taken place, producing
in all the sum of 849I. sterling. This proved from time
to time a most seasonable recruit to the colony, and
gave new vigour and spirits to the whole.
The number of the settlers is productive of an ex¬
cellent eflect; that although some are generally absent^
enough still remain to occupy the water constantly.
In a favourable day, there may be seen hundreds, men,
women, and children, labouring with the utmost assi¬
duity. The women declare they can make more by
working at the moss than at their wheel; and such is
the general attachment to that employment, that they
have frequently been discovered working by moonlight.
Another happy consequence arising from their num¬
bers is the great quantity of moss they consume for
fuel. There are in all 115 families. Each family re¬
quires at an average 10 dargues (c) of peats yearly.
Each dargue uncovers a space equal to 10 square yards
of clay ; so that, by casting peats, the moss tenants gain
yearly about 6 roods of land.
The advantage, too, of providing their fuel with so
little trouble, is very great. They require yearly 1150
dargues of peats ; which, as each dargue when dried
and stacked is valued at five shillings, are worth 287I.
1 Os. sterling ; a sum which otherwise must have been
expended on the prime cost and carriage of coals.—
Many of them cast peats for sale ; and look worth are
yearly disposed of in the town of Stirling, the village
of Down, &c.
Though moss work be laborious, it is at the same
time amusing. The operator moves the moss five feet
only at a medium ; and- the water, like carts in other
cases,,
AGRICULTURE.
(c) A dargue (or darg) of peats, is the quantity that one man can cast and two can wheel in a day to the
field where they are spread out to dry.
382 A G R I C U
Preparation cases, carrying it off as fast as it is thrown in, excites
of Land, him to activity. Still he must submit to be wet from
1 v morning to night. But habit reconciles him to this
inconvenience j while his house and arable land fill his
eye and cheer his mind. Nor is it found that the
health of the inhabitants is in the smallest degree in¬
jured either by the nature of the work or the vicinity
of the moss.
The quantity of moss that one man can move in a
day is suprising } when he meets with no interruption,
seldom less than 48 cubic yards, each weighing 90
stones. The weight, then, of moss moved per day is
no less than 4320 stones. A cubic yard is moved into
the water, and of course carried into the river Forth
for one farthing. It follows, that the expence of
moving 48 cubic yards is one shilling. But the same
quantity moved to the same distance by carts would
cost 24 shillings. Hence the advantage derived from
the possibility of floating moss in water, and the great
importance of having water for that purpose.
The moss, when contrasted with the rich lands sur¬
rounding, appeared, especially before the improve¬
ments, a very dreary spot; one wide unvaried wild,
totally unproductive, unfit even to furnish sustenance
to any animal, except here and there a few wretched
straggling sheep. Besides, it entirely cut off all con¬
nexion betwixt the farms on either side 5 among which
no intercourse was practicable but by a circuit of se¬
veral miles.
The scene is already greatly changed. The follow¬
ing are the numbers of the inhabitants who sonve years
ago resided in the moss j also of their cows and horses,
and of the acres gained by them from the moss, to¬
gether with their produce.
Men - - - * 115
Women * - - 113
Boys . . - - 199
Girts - 193
Total
Number of cows, at least
Ditto of horses and carts,
Ditto of acres cleared from moss,
620
II5
34
- 300
ascertained
The produce in bolls cannot be exactly
but, considering the goodness of the soil, may be fairly
stated at 8 bolls per acre. Inde 2400 bolls.
As oats are the staple commodity, the calculation
shall be confined to that grain. According to the fiars
of Stirlingshire, crop 1790, carse oats are valued at 14s.
per boll. Inde 2400 bolls at 14s. is 16Sol. Of late
this price has at times been doubled.
A tract of ground so considerable, formerly a nui¬
sance to the country, thus converted into a fertile field,
filled with inhabitants, comfortable and happy, canned
surely be surveyed with an eye of indifference by any
person whose mind is at all susceptible of feeling or of
public spirit.
An excellent gravelled road, 20 feet wide and a
mile and a half long, is now carried quite across the
L T U R E. Practice.
moss. By this means, in the first place, a short and Prepwatioi
easy intercourse is established between two consider- of Laud
able parts of the estate, formerly as little connected as v""" v —-
if separated by a lake or an arm of the sea. Secondly,
The inhabitants of the moss, to whom, hitherto, all
passage with carts or horses was impracticable for at
least one half of the year, have now obtained the
essential advantage of being able, with ease, to trans¬
port all the different commodities at every season of
the year. This road was entirely formed by the hands
of the moss tenants, and gravelled by their own carts
and horses : a work which, it will not be doubted,
they performed with much alacrity } when it is con¬
sidered that, to the prospect of procuring a lasting and
material benefit to themselves, there was joined the
additional inducement of receiving an immediate sup¬
ply of money, the whole being done at the proprietor’s
expence.
The possessions are laid off in the manner best fitted
for the operations j and are divided by lanes running
in straight lines parallel to each other. Parallel to
these again the drains are carried : and this straight
direction greatly facilitates the progress of the water
with its load of moss. Upon the bank of moss fronting
the lanes, the operation of floating is begun j and twen¬
ty or thirty people are sometimes seen heaving moss
into the same drain. That the water may be the more
conveniently applied, the lanes include between them
the breadth of two possessions only. The new houses
are erected upon each side of these lanes at the dis¬
tance of 100 yards from each other.
Before the formation of lanes and roads, and while
yet no ground was cleared, the first settlers wete obliged
to erect their houses upon the surface of the moss. Its
softness denied all access to stones; which, at any rate,
are at such a distance as would render them too ex¬
pensive. Settlers, therefore, were obliged to construct
their houses of other materials. Upon the low moss
there is found for this purpose great plenty of sod or
turf, which accordingly the tenants use for the walls
of their houses. For the rudeness of the fabric nature
in some measure compensates, by overspreading the
outside with a luxuriant coating of heath and other
moorish plants, which have a very picturesque appear¬
ance.
But upon high moss there’is no sod to be found.
There the tenant must go differently to work. Ha¬
ving chosen a proper situation for his house, he first
digs four trenches down to the clay, so as to separate
from the rest of the moss a solid mass, containing an
oblong rectangular area, sufficiently large for his in¬
tended house. This being done, he then scoops out
the middle of the mass, leaving on all sides the thick¬
ness of three feet for walls; over which he throws a
roof, such as that by which other cottages are common¬
ly covered.
Upon the softest parts of the moss, even these walls
cannot be obtained. In such places the houses are
built with peat dug out of the moss, and closely com¬
pressed together while in a humid state (d). It is ne¬
cessary
(d) This does not apply to the morass, upon the surface of which, it has already been observed, it is impossi¬
ble to erect houses in any shape.
I it I. A G R I C U
t oration cessary evett to lay upon the surface a platform of
Uud. boards to prevent the walls from sinking ; which they
^ have Irequently done when that precaution was ne¬
glected. After all, to stamp with the foot will shake
the whole fabric as well as the moss for fifty yards
around. This, at first, startled the people a good deal j
but custom soon rendered it familiar.
The colonists have now made considerable advance¬
ment in reaving better habitations for their comfort
and convenience. Their huts of turf are but tempo¬
rary lodgings. As soon as they have cleared a little
ground, they build houses of brick: when the proprie¬
tor a second time furnishes them with timber gratis.
It has also been found necessary to relieve them en¬
tirely from the payment of the burdensome tax upon
brick ; a tax which surely was never intended to fall
on such poor industrious adventurers ; and which, with¬
out this assistance, would have proved a most effectual
bar to the employment of these materials.
There are now erected in the moss 69 brick houses,
substantially built with lime. The total expence a-
mounted to 1033I. sterling. And it is a very comfort¬
able circumstance, that the money expended upon these
houses is mostly kept in circulation among the inhabi¬
tants themselves j for as a number of them have learn¬
ed not only to manufaetpre but also to build bricks,
and as others who have horses and carts furnish the
carriage of lime and coals, they thus interchange ser¬
vices with each other.
With a view to excite the exertion of the colonists,
the following premiums were also offered : 1. To the
person who shall in the space of one year remove the
greatest quantity of moss down to the clay, a plough
of the best construction. 2. To the person who shall
remove the next greatest quantity, a pair of harrows of
the best kind. 3. For the next greatest quantity, a
spade of the best kind, and lolh. of red clover seed.
But as these premiums, if contested for by the whole in¬
habitants, could reach but a very few of the number,
they were therefore divided into six districts according
to their situation ; and the above premiums were offer¬
ed to each district.
The establishment of this colony was no doubt at¬
tended with a very considerable share of expence and
difficulty ; for the undertaking was altogether new,
and there were many prejudices against it, which it
was necessary to overcome. At the same time it was
noble and interesting : it was to make a valuable addi¬
tion to private property ; it was to increase tlie popu¬
lation of the country, and to give bread to a number
of people, many of whom having been turned out of
their farms and cottaries in the Highlands, might other¬
wise, by emigration, have been lost to their country j
and that too, at a time when, owing to the great en¬
largement of farms, depopulation prevails but too
much even in the low countries. And it was to add
to the arable lands of the kingdom, making many
thousand bolls of grain to grow where none ever grew
before.
These considerations have hitherto preponderated
with the proprietors against the various obstacles that
present themselves to the execution of so extensive an
undertaking. Should their example tend in any de¬
gree to stimulate others, who both in Scotland and in
England possess much ground equally useless to the
L T U R E.
383
country, to commence similar improvements, it would preparation
be a most grateful consideration superadded to the of Land,
pleasure already arising from the progress of the infant 1"v" ’
colon v.
Alter all it will probably hereafter he thought, that
the great efforts of ingenuity, and of persevering in¬
dustry, which were requisite in the abroie operation,
might all have been avoided, and the work much easier
performed, had the art been found out of converting
moss into fruitful soil, according to the plan practised,
and undoubtedly brought to great perfection in Ayr- j|8
shire, by the gentleman already mentioned, John Smith, Mr Smith’s
Esq. of Swinridgemnir, near Beith. On a part of a mode of
moss in this gentleman’s property, a quantity of limein,Pro,in£
had been spread in consequence of the miring of somem°SS*
carts in wet weather; to relieve which, their load was
laid over the ground in their neighbourhood, though
this was accounted at that period an absurd operation,
as it was believed that lime would have the effect of
consuming and rendering mossy ground useless for ever.
The proprietor Mr Smith, was then in the army, to¬
wards the close of the American war. On returning
home the succeeding summer, and being informed of
the accident, he was surprised to find that as good a
crop grew upon the patch of moss on which the lime
had been scattered, as upon another spot that bad been
pared and burned, in consequence of instructions that
he had transmitted home for that purpose, from having
perused some treatises in which burning of moss was re¬
commended. He also remarked, that upon the places
which had neither been burned nor limed, nothing
grew, and that the crop upon the burned soil was in¬
ferior to that where the lime had been laid, being al¬
most choked with sorrel. Mr Smith pursued the bint
thus obtained : He reclaimed by means of lime every
portion of moss in bis own possession, and having satis¬
fied bis tenants of the utility of the practice, he allowed
them to dig limestone gratis, and gave them the refuse
of his coal at prime cost to burn it. Thus, in a short
time, every part of the moss upon his estate was redu¬
ced under cultivation, and rendered highly valuable.
When Mr Smith began his operations, he met the
fate of innovators in agriculture, that is, he was ridi¬
culed by all his neighbours. His success, however, at
length made some converts, and though the new system
at first advanced slowly, it was at last universally ap¬
proved of, and extensively imitated. The result has
been, that what was once the worst land in the country,
is now become the most productive and fertile.
The following is a concise statement of Mr Smith’s
practice, and consequently of the Ayrshire practice, of
actually converting moss into vegetable mould, capable
of bearing rich crops of corn, bay, potatoes, See. which
we shall give in the words of Mr Headrick.
“ 1. When they enter upon the improvement of a Commuiu-
moss in a natural state, the first thing to be done {Rations to
to mark and cut main or master drains, eight feet .
LU hire, vol. in.
width, by four and a half in depth, and declinin
two and a half at bottom ; these cost is. per fall of
six Scots ells. In some instances, it will be found ne¬
cessary to cut those drains much deeper, consequently
at a greater expence. These drains almost in every in¬
stance can be, and are so conducted, as to divide the field
into regular and proper enclosures. They always make
it a rule to finish off as much of a drain as they have
broken
AGRICULTURE.
Preparation broken tip, before they leave i* at night; because, if
of Land, a part is left dug, suppose half way, the oozing of wa-
V1—' ter from the sides would render the bottom so soft, that
they could neither stand upon it nor lift it with the
spade. When the moss is so very soft, that the pressure
of what is thrown out of the drain may cause its sides
to fall in again, they throw the clods from the drain a
considerable ivay hack, and sometimes have a man to
throw them still further hack, by a spade or the hand $
for this reason too, they always throw the stuff taken
from a drain as equally as possible on each side of it.
In digging the drains, the workmen stand upon small
boards to prevent them from sinking, and move them
forward as the work advances.
“ When the moss lies in a hollow, with only one
outlet, it is necessary to lead up a drain, so as to let the
water pass this outlet, and then conduct it along the
lowest or wettest part of the moss: this middle drain is
afterwards sloped, and the stuff thrown back into the
hollows that may occur ; upon it the ridges are made
to terminate on each side, while a ring drain, serving
the purpose of a fence, is thrown round the moss at the
line where the rising ground commences. This can ge¬
nerally be so managed as to divide the moss into a
square field, leaving straight lines for the sides of the
contiguous fields. The ring drain intercepts the sur¬
face water from the higher grounds, and conducts it
into the lower part of the outlet, while the sloped drain
in the centre receives and discharges all the water that
falls upon the moss.'
“ After the moss collapses in consequence of liming
and culture, it is often necessary to clean out these
drains a second time, and to dig them to a greater
depth : their sides become at last like a wall ol peat,
which few animals will venture to pass.
“ 2. The drains being thus completed, they mark
out the ridges, either with a long string or with three
poles set in a line. Mr Smith has tried several breadths
of ridges, but now gives a decided preference to those
that are seven yards in breadth. The ridges are form¬
ed with the spade in the following manner : In the
centre of each intended ridge, a space of about two
feet is allowed to remain untouched ; on each side of
that space a furrow is opened, which is turned over
so as completely to cover that space, like what is call¬
ed veering or feering of a gathered ridge j the work,
thus begun, is continued by cutting furrows with the
spade, and turning them over from end to end of the
ridge on each side, until they arrive at the division fur¬
rows. The breadth of the slices thus cut, may be
about 12 inches, and each piece is made as long as it
may suit to turn over: the ridge, when finished, has
the appearance of having been done with a plough.
The division furrow is two feet in breadth, which, it
necessary to draw off superfluous water, is partly cut
and thrown upon the side, or into hollows in the
ridges on each side. The depth of the division furrows
is regulated by circumstances, so as not to lay the ridges
at first too dry, hut at the same time to bleed, as it were,
the moss, and conduct the superfluous water into the
master drains.
“ 3. The next operation is to top-dress the ridges with
lime. The sooner this is done after the ridges are
formed, the better. When the moss appears dry, ex¬
perienced farmers throw on the lime, but do not clean
2
Practice,
out the division furrows until the ensuing winter. pre[)aratio I
When it is soaked in water, they clean the division of Land. '
furrows as soon as the lime is ready, and after the wa-
ter has run off apply the lime immediately. It is ef
great importance to have the lime applied while the
moss is still moist, and the lime in as caustic a state as
possible. For this purpose, they have the lime con¬
veyed from the kiln in parcels, slaked and laid on as
fast as the ridges are formed. Being dropped from
carts, and slaked at the nearest accessible station, it is
carried to the moss by two men on light handbarrows,
having a hopper and bottom of thin boards, and there
spread with shovels as equally as possible. During the
first and second years, the crop is generally carried off
in the same way. In some places where a moss is co¬
vered with coarse herbage, and accessible by carts in
dry weather, I saw them give a good dose of lime to
the moss before it was turned up with the spade, and
another after the ridges were formed. It is surprising
how quickly they execute these operations with the
handbarrows. In other places where coarse hoards
can be procured, they lay a line of them along the
crown of a ridge, and convey the lime upon them in
wheelbarrows.
“ The proportion of lime allowed to the acre is va¬
rious, being from three to eight chalders. Improvers
are much less sparing of this ingredient now than for¬
merly, and much greater proportions have been applied
with good effect. Suppose 120 bolls, or 480 Winches¬
ter bushels, of slaked or powdered lime allowed to every
Scots acre, this would cost at the sale kilns 40s.; and
thus the reader may be enabled to calculate the expence
of lime in this district at every given proportion : But
most of the farmers here burn lime for themselves in
vast kilns of sod, and think they have it much cheaper
than it could be got from a sale kiln. In many places,
limestone abounds so much, that houses, fences, and
roads are constructed with it *, and when a farmer burns
the limestone within his premises, he at least saves the
expence of carriage.
“ In some cases, after the limestone is laid on, they
go over the ground with hoes, or with spades, hacking
and mangling the clods, and mixing the lime more
completely with the superficial soil ; but where there
is much to do, and hands are scarce, they never think
of these operations.
“ 4. The field thus prepared is ready to receive the
seed, which is sown at the proper season whether it he
wet or dry, and harrowed in with a small harrow drawn
by two men. Four men will with ease harrow at least
five or six roods per day, two and two dragging the
harrow by turns, and two breaking and dividing the
mould with spades. When the lime has been applied
early the preceding summer, a good crop of oats may
generally be expected ; but if it has been recently ap¬
plied, the first crop of oats frequently misgives, as the
lime has not time to combine with the moss, and form
it into a soil.
“ The early Dutch or Polish oats are always prefer¬
red by moss improvers, as the common Scots or late
oats are too apt to run into straw, and lodge before the
grain arrives at maturity. The same proportion of
seed is allowed per acre that is usual in other places.
The great desideratum is, to procure plants which will
throw up a sufficient quantity of herbage, so as to shield
the
A G R I C U
'art I.
•cparatioa the surface irom the winds and sun’s rays, and thus to
if Land, keep it moist during the first summer after a moss is
—V"—'' reclaimed.
“ This desideratum is effectually supplied by the
potato, which thrives well on moss at all times, whether
recently opened up and limed, or at any future period
of its cultivation j only it requires a proportion of
stable dung. It is now become the general practice
in Ayrshire, to plant potatoes on those mosses which
have been but recently turned up and limed ; and
where dung can be procured, it is generally the first
crop on all their mosses.
“ The method of planting potatoes, whether they
be the first crop or succeed the first crop of oats, is by
lazy beds. If they be the first crop, the moss having
been delved into ridges, and limed as before directed,
spaces of from five to six feet in breadth are marked
out across the ridges, having intervals of about two
feet, from which the moss is taken to cover the sets.
rIhese spaces or beds are covered over with a thin^ra-
tum of dung, laid upon the surface of the lime at the
rate of about sixteen tons to the Scots acre. The cut¬
tings of the potatoes ai’e laid or placed upon the said
beds, about ten or twelve inches asunder; and the
whole are covered over with moss, taken from the in¬
tervals which are thus converted into ditches, to be
followed by another covering about the time the potato
plants begin to make their appearance, the covering in
the whole amounting to about four or five inches : at
the same time the division furrows are cleaned out to
cover the sets that are contiguous to them. The whole
field is thus divided into spaces or lazy beds, like a
chequered board. During summer, they cut the moss
with hoes, and draw it up a little towards the stems of
the plants. Few weeds appear, except what are con¬
veyed by the dung. This is the practice universally
followed when potatoes are planted on moss for the first
time ; but after the moss is finely pulverised and re¬
duced, they either plant them in rows across the
ridges, or plant and dress them with the plough in the
usual manner.
“ Potatoes planted as the first crop never misgive,
and they are the best and most certain method at once
to reclaim a mtfss, not owing so much perhaps to the
dung aiding the putrid fermentation which the lime
has already excited, as to their roots pushing and divi¬
ding the moss, while the leaves shelter it from the
sun, cause a stagnation of air, and thus keep it in that
degree of moisture which is most favourable to the ac¬
tion of Jime upon moss. The practice of making po¬
tatoes the first crop is now universally followed, in so
far as the farmers can command dung. The produce
is from 40 to 60 bolls per acre, the potato measure be-
ing eight Winchester bushels a little heaped to the
boll. Mosses that are fully reclaimed yield from 60 to
70 bolls of potatoes at an average, and in some places
where manures are abundant, they have been known to
yield from 80 to 100 bolls per acre, of the above mea¬
sure.
“ Mr Smith is about to try yams upon his mosses,
from the opinion that prevails among some of the Mid-
Lothian farmers, where this plant is much cultivated,
that they require little or no dung, and that the supe¬
rior breadth of their leaves, will prove more favourable
than those of potatoes, for sheltering the ground.
Vol. I. Part I. +
L T U R E.
“ When the potato crop is removed, the ridges are
again put into their original form j in doing which,
care is taken to preserve the mould that is acquired up¬
permost ; this is done by moving the subfurrow on each
side with a strong spade, half way into the intermediate
ditch from which the lazy beds were covered, and scat¬
tering the mould equally over the whole surface. This
operation costs 18s. per acre. It is not easy to calcu¬
late the expence of planting the potatoes forming the
lazy beds, &c. as this is seldom executed by contract;
but the lazy beds being thus reduced, the land is ready
for a crop of corn.
“ Though a crop of oats frequently misgives upon
moss that has been but recently limed, yet in other
cases, where the lime has lain several months upon the
land, it proves a good crop, and is sufficient to cover
all the expence with a little profit. The crops of suc¬
ceeding years are sufficient to afford from their straw
putrescent manure for such land in order that it may be
cleaned with potatoes, and prepared for grass seeds.
“ But after potatoes of the first year, with the slight
operation of reducing the lazy beds, from 10 to 12 bolls
of oats are at an average produced per acre. The oats
are excellent, and yield from 18 to 20 pecks of meal
per boll j they would sell upon the ground for 10I. or
12I. per acre. The ground continues to yield oats of
the same quality for several years, without any appa¬
rent diminution of fertility, and without receiving any
additional manure : the only apparent bar to the conti¬
nuance of this crop is, the soil becoming grassy. When
the grass begins to contend with the crop for pre-emi¬
nence, the land is thrown into pasture, and would let
ever after in that state at from 20s. to 25s. per acre.
Daisies, white clover, &c. &c. now spring up in mos¬
ses, where their existence was never before suspected \
at the same time thistles and other weeds for some time
infest the pasture.
“ The better practice is, to take another crop of po¬
tatoes with a little dung and lime, and give it a trench-
delving, to bury the weeds and bring up new soil 5 af¬
ter the potatoes, to sow barley and grass seeds.
“ Bye-grass is universally sown here, and it attains
amazing perfection upon moss properly prepared^ along
with this, white and yellow clover are sometimes sown,
and thrive remarkably well. Bed clover has been
tried, but did not succeed, and is hence discredited
for moss-lands: perhaps it may have been unjustly cen¬
sured, because it is certain that the seasons in which
it was tried, proved very unfavourable to red clover in
all parts of the country, most of it having died during
wdnter.
“ 5. We have already described the levelling of the
lazy beds. All future delvings of the moss are per¬
formed from one end of the ridge to the other j by this
method the slices that had been cut and turned over in
the first operation of forming the ridge, are again cut
across, and constantly reduced into smaller pieces, till
they moulder into earth.
“ The expence of delving a moss for the first time,
where the surface is tolerably smooth, is 24d. per fall,
or ll. 13s. 4d. per Scots acre*, but where inequalities
occur, which must be thrown down by the spade into
hollows, it costs about 2l. per acre. If there be emi¬
nences, which must be removed into hollows by wheel¬
barrows running upon boards, the first expence is great-
3 C er
385
Preparation
of Land.
f
386
i'rtp&rauoner according to circumstances. The second delving,
of Laud, w here potatoes have not intervened, costs from ll. to
jj ggj per Scots acre, the division-furrows being at
the same time cleaned out. The third delving and
cleaning of the division furrows costs ll. per acre 5 but
the moss is now so friable, that it may be wrought with
the greatest ease and rapidity. At the above rates, an
ordinary workman will earn is. 6d. per day, and an
able and experienced one, from that to 2s. 6d. per day.
They use a strong spade, edged with steel, and have
always a gritstone near them for sharpening the spade.
In the evening they repair its edge upon a grindstone ;
and when the steel is woin away, they lay it again
with new steel. Sometimes the moss is so solt that they
walk upon boards while they are turning it over.
“ Mr Smith has found, by long experience, that
it is improper to make the ridges too high or too nar¬
row : when they are too high, they throw the water
off from their sides without admitting it to penetrate
their substance j the top of course gets too dry : when
too narrow, there is a loss of surface from too many di¬
vision-furrows ; the breadth already mentioned is found
to be the best: and when the improvement is com¬
pleted, the ridges appear like segments of wide circles,
with a clean well defined division-furrow between each
of them. The moisture is thus caused slowly to filtrate
through the moss rendered friable by lime, until it
reaches the division-furrows, and is discharged. As
the moss subsides for some time, and closes in towards
the furrows, it is generally necessary to clean these out
before winter, and at the time the crop is sown, until
the moss acquire solidity.
“ Some mosses may be ploughed the second year to
within two bouts or lour slices of the division-luirows,
and every operation performed by the force ol horses,
except turning over with the spade the narrow stripes
next to the division-furrows. In other mosses it re¬
quires three years before this can be done ; and it
seldom happens but every moss may be wrought by the
plough after it has been wrought four years by the
spade. When moss is wrought by the spade, it seems
of no consequence whether it be wrought wet or dry 5
hut when it is wrought by the plough, opportunities
must be watched, as horses cannot walk upon it for
some years during wet weather.
“ 6. With respect to the quality of the potatoes thus
produced upon mosses, I do not scruple to pronounce
it most excellent. Potatoes have been tried with dung
alone : but they are always watery, and frequently
hollow or rotten in the heart : those raised upon mosses
that have been well limed, are frequently so dry and
farinaceous, that it is difficult to boil them without re¬
ducing them to powder *, and they are often obliged to
lift them with spoons : they come clean out of the
ground j keep remarkably well in heaps covered with
moss in the field j and are remarkably well flavoured.
“ No such disease as the curl was ever known among
moss potatoes •, and, indeed, if Dr Coventry’s opinion
be true, that the curl is caused by overloading the
sets with too much earth, or from the earth becoming
too hard around them, no such thing can take place
in moss. But to whatever cause the curl may be ow¬
ing, it is certainly propagated by diseased seed; it
would, therefore, appear advantageous to transfer the
potatoes raised upon moss as seed for solid land, fhey
Practice.
have a remarkably good species of potato in this di-preparfttion
strict, which was brought from Virginia to Largs of Land,
about eight years ago ; and whether it be owing to —y——'
the beneficial nature of a mossy soil, or to its own in¬
trinsic merits, this potato has long been so much di¬
stinguished by the good quality and large quantity of
its produce, that it has superseded the use of every
other species. There seems to be no occasion for moss
improvers to change their seed. Some persons in tins
district, who have but small patches of moss, have kept
them constantly in potatoes more than ten years, with¬
out changing their seed, and without any sensible dimi¬
nution either in the quantity or quality of the crop.”
4. Of bringing Land into Culture from a State of
Nature. _ rs9
To improve a moor, let it be opened, if possible, in A moor
winter, when it is wet, which has one convenience,^"'.*®^
that the plough cannot be employed in any other
work. It is always supposed, however, that the mois¬
ture has been sufficiently removed by draining, to ren¬
der this practicable. In spring, after the frost is over,
a slight harrowing will fill up the interstices with
mould, to keep out the air and rot the sod. Thus it
may be suflered to lie during the following summer
and winter, which will tend more to rot the turf than
if laid open to the air by ploughing. Next April, let
it he cross-ploughed, braked, and harrowed, till it be
sufficiently pulverized for turnip seed, to be sown broad¬
cast, or in drills, after being manured, and the manure
mixed with the soil by repeated harrowings.
It sometimes happens, however, that the heath which
grows upon a moorish soil is so strong and vigorous as
to he subdued with great difficulty. It has been ob¬
served, that after land is drained and the heath burnt
upon the surface, this plant is in time extirpated by
sheep. These animals are extremely fond of the ten¬
der shoots and flowers of heath, but they will not taste
it after it runs into seed, unless compelled by extreme
hunger. For subduing it by a shorter process, lime
is the best remedy, as it seems a mortal enemy to heath.
A strong dose of caustic lime therefore laid upon the
surface of the land after it is first ploughed, is attended
with the best effect in consuming the roots of heath
and of coarse grasses, and rendering the soil friable,
which it accomplishes in about six months. Economy
in the use of this ingredient, therefore, at the first break¬
ing up of moor land, is extremely misapplied. Ac¬
cordingly some skilful farmers lay one dose of lime
upon the land before it is ploughed, and another after it,
that the furrow slices, being wholly surrounded by it,
may he sooner brought into a friable state. But, al¬
though a very considerable dose of lime is absolutely
necessary, when such land is newly reduced from a
state of nature, it ought not to be solely trusted to.
To render the land permanently fertile, it soon becomes
necessary to aid the. soil, by vegetable or putrescent
manure.
The turnip crop may be consumed upon the ground
by sheep, which affords an excellent preparation for
laying down the field with grass seeds j a point which
every improver ought to have in view, on account of
the command of dung which it gives him. It is even
said to be an improvement upon this method, to take
two or even three successive crops of turnips, all con¬
sumed
AGRICULTURE.
Part I. AGRICULTURE.. 387
Preparation sumed in the same way. No dung will be necessary for
of Land, the two last crops, and the soil tvill be greatly thick-
ened and enriched.
Swampy With regard to swampy lands and a soil covered with
lands, how rushes, ant hills, and coarse grasses ; after draining, the
to be culti- best procedure which can be adopted, consists of par-
rated. Jng and burning. When land is pared, a thin sod is
taken off, either by a paring spade or paring plough,
over the whole surface. The sods being dried, are
collected into small heaps and burned, and the ashes
are scattered over tire field. Swampy land that is
overrun with rushes and coarse grasses, and lands that
are covered rvith heath and other coarse plants, suit
best for paring and burning. In this rvay these coarse
plants are destroyed at once, and the land may be
ploughed and cropped immediately, without waiting for
the rotting of the turf, as in the former case. It is also
said, that this practice destroys all slugs and other ver¬
min that infest the soil. It is more especially va¬
luable in situations where lime and other manures can¬
not be procured. Where lime is to be found in abund¬
ance, hoAA'ever, it might probably be a better practice,
instead of burning the turf that has been cut from the
surface of the coarse land, to collect it all into heaps
in different parts of the field, and make it up into com¬
post with lime. The Avhole heaps in such cases ought
to be thoroughly moistened, and the mass to be fre¬
quently turned and mixed. In this Avay, by using lime
in place of fire, the whole roots and coarse herbage would
. Jp1 be destroyed, and reduced at once into a most valuable
anngan manure for enriching the soil. In the mean time it is
low'far be observed, that paring and burning is so evidently
useful. advantageous to the immediately succeeding crops,
that it has sometimes been abused by overcropping af¬
ter it, and by extending it, perhaps unnecessarily, to all
soils, upon breaking them up from grass, though for¬
merly cultivated and in good order: though even
in such cases it may be found valuable, Avhere lime
cannot easily be obtained. The following remarks
upon the subject, in the Report of the Agricul¬
ture of the county of Northumberland, by J. Bayley
and G. Culley, are worthy of attention. “ Paring
and burning is not much practised in the eastern and
northern parts of the county : in the middle and south¬
ern parts it is most prevalent j but, even there, it is
confined to old swards, and coarse, rough, rushy, and
heathy lands. For the first breaking up of such ground,
it is certainly very convenient, and preferable to any
other mode we have ever seen ; but though we are
fully convinced of its beneficial effects in such situa¬
tions, yet A\Te have our doubts Avhether it could be used
Avith advantage upon lands that have lain a few years
in grass, and that would produce good crops of grain
immediately on being ploughed out, which is not the
case with coarse rough heathy lands, or even very old
SAvards on rich fertile soils ; it being found that crops
on the latter are frequently very much injured by
leaping for two or three years, Avhich paring and burn¬
ing entirely obviate, and ensure full crops to the far¬
mer, who need not be under any apprehension of his
soil being ruined by it, provided he pursue the follow¬
ing course: I. Turnips j 2. Oats j 3. Fallow well limed
for turnips: 4. Barley sown up with clover and grass
seeds, and depastured with sheep for three or four
years. It is the injudicious ci’opping, more than the
ill effects derived from paring and burning, that has Preparation
been the chief cause of bringing such an odium on this of Land,
practice, which is certainly an excellent one in some y——
situations, and Avhen properly conducted $ but, like the
fermented juice of the grape, may be too often repeated
and improperly applied.
“ l he popular clamour against this practice, “ that
it destroys the soil,” avc can by no means admit *, and
are inclined to believe, that not a single atom of soil
is abstracted, though the bulk of the sod or turf be
diminished. This arises from the burning of the roots
or vegetable substances, Avhich, by this process, afford a
considerable portion of alkaline salts, phlogistic or car¬
bonic matter, and probably other principles friendly
to vegetation 5 as Ave find those ashes produce abundant
crops of turnips, which fatten stock much quicker
than those after any other dressing or manure we have
ever seen $ and the succeeding crops of corn are so
very luxuriant as to tempt the injudicious cultivator to
pursue it too far ; who, for the sake of a temporary
gain, may be said to rip it up, as the boy did his goose
that laid golden eggs.”
But where the ground is dry, and the soil so thin as
that the surface cannot be pared, the best Avay of bring¬
ing it into tilth from the state, of nature, as mentioned
above, is to plough it Avith a feathered sock, laying the
grassy surface under. After the new surface is mel-
loAved with frost, fill up all the seams by harrowing-
cross the field, Avhich by excluding the air Avill effec¬
tually rot the sod. In this state let it lie summer and
winter. In the beginning of May after, a cross
ploughing will reduce all to small square pieces, which
must be pulverized Avith the brake, and make it ready
for a May or June crop. If these square pieces be al-
loAved to lie long in the sap without breaking, they
will become tough, and not be easily reduced.
5. Forming Ridges.
The first thing that occurs on this head, is to con-of ridges,
sider what grounds ought to be formed into ridges, and
Avhat ought to be tilled Avith a flat surface. Dry soils,
which suffer by lack of moisture, ought to be tilled flat,
which tends to retain moisture. And the method for
such tilling, is to go round and round from the cir¬
cumference to the centre, or from the centre to the
circumference. This method is advantageous in point
of expedition, as the Avhole is finished Avithout once
turning the plough. At the same time, every inch of
the soil is moved, instead of leaving either the croAvn
or the furrow unmoved, as is commonly done in tilling
ridges. Clay soil, Avhich suffers by water standing on
it, ought to be laid as dry as possible by proper ridges.
A loamy soil is the middle between the tAvo mentioned.
It ought to be tilled flat in a dry country, especially
if it incline to the soil first mentioned. In a moist
country, it ought to be formed into ridges, high or
low according to the degree of moisture and tendency
to clay.
In grounds that require ridging, an error prevails,
that ridges cannot be raised too high. High ridges
labour under several disadvantages. The soil is heap¬
ed upon the croAvn, leaving the furroAvs bare : the
crown is too dry, and the furrows too wet: the crop,
Avhich is always best on the crown, is more readily sha¬
ken with the Avind, than where the whole crop is of an
3 C 2 equal
388 A G R I C U
reparation equal height 5 the half of the ridge is often covered
of Land, from the sun, a disadvantage which is far from being
— slight in a cold climate. High ridges labour under an¬
other disadvantage, in ground that has no more level
than barely sufficient to carry off water : they sink the
furrows below the level of the ground j and conse¬
quently retain water at the end of every ridge. The
furrows ought never to be sunk below the level of the
ground. Water will more effectually be carried off by
lessening the ridges both in height and breadth : a nar¬
row ridge, the crown of which is but 18 inches higher
than the furrow, has a greater slope than a very broad
ridge where the difference is three or four feet.
Next, of forming ridges where the ground hangs
considerably. Kidges may be too steep as well as too
horizontal : and if to the ridges be given all the steep¬
ness of a field, a heavy shower may do irreparable mis¬
chief. To prevent such mischief, the ridges ought to
be so directed cross the field, as to have a gentle slope
for carrying off water slowly, and no more. In that
respect, a hanging field has greatly the advantage ot
one that is nearly horizontal ; because, in the latter,
there is no opportunity of a choice in forming the
ridges. A hill is of all the best adapted for directing
the ridges properly. If the soil he gravelly, it may be
ploughed round and round, beginning at the bottom
and ascending gradually to the top in a spiral line.
This method of ploughing a hill requires no more
force than ploughing on a level; and at the same time
removes the great inconvenience of a gravelly hill, that
rains go off too quickly } for the rain is retained in
every furrow. If the soil be such as to require ridges,
they may be directed to any slope that is proper.
In order to form a field into ridges that has not been
formerly cultivated, the rules mentioned are easily put
in execution. But what if ridges be already formed,
that are either crooked or too high ? After seeing the
advantage of forming a field into ridges, people were
naturally led into an error, that the higher the better.
But what could tempt them to make their ridges
crooked ! Certainly this method did not originate from
design ; but from the laziness of the driver suffering the
' cattle to turn too hastily, instead of making them finish
the ridge without turning. There is more than one
disadvantage in this slovenly practice. First, the water
is kept in by the curve at the end of every ridge, and
sours the ground. Next, as a plough has the least fric¬
tion possible in a straight line, the friction must be in¬
creased in a curve, the back part of the mouldboard
pressing hard on the one hand, and the coulter pressing
hard on the other. In the third place, the plough mo¬
ving in a straight line, has the greatest command in
laying the earth over. But where the straight line of
the plough is applied to the curvature of a I’idge in or¬
der to heighten it by gathering, the earth moved by
the plough is continually falling back, in spite of the
most skilful ploughman.
The inconveniences of ridges high and crooked are
so many, that one would be tempted to apply a reme¬
dy at any risk. And yet, if the soil be clay, it would
not he advisable for a tenant to apply the remedy upon
a lease shorter than two nineteen years. In a dry gra¬
velly soil, the work is not difficult nor hazardous.
When the ridges are cleaved two or three years suc¬
cessively in the course of cropping, the operation ought
L T U R E.
Practice.
to be concluded in one summer. The earth, by reite- Preparation
rated ploughings, should be accumulated upon the fur- of Land,
rows, so as to raise them higher than the crowns : they 1
cannot be raised too high, for the accumulated earth
will subside by its own weight. Cross ploughing once
or twice, will reduce the ground to a flat surface, and
give opportunity to form ridges at will. The same
method brings down ridges in clay soil: only let care
be taken to carry on the work with expedition j be¬
cause a hearty shower, before the new ridges are form¬
ed, would soak the ground in water, and make the far¬
mer suspend his work for the remainder of that year at ^
least. In a strong clay, we would not venture to alter
the ridges, unless it can be done to perfection in one ture vo]'.
season. On this subject Mr Anderson has the follow’-p.
ing observations *. 153
“ The difficulty of performing this operation pro-Inconvsni-
perly with the common implements of husbandry, and eilces'nt'i«
the obvious benefit that accrues to the farmer from ha- cf
ving his fields level, has produced many new inventionsicveijjngi
of ploughs, harrows, drags, &c. calculated for speedily
reducing the fields to that state j none of which have
as yet been found fully to answer the purpose for
which they were intended, as they all indiscriminately
carry the earth that was on the high places into those
that were low’er j which, although it may in some cases
render the surface of the ground tolerably smooth and
level, is usually attended with inconveniences far great¬
er, for a considerable length of time, than that which it
was intended to remove.
“For experience sufficiently show’s, that even the Vegetable
best vegetable mould, if buried for any length of time p*-
so far beneath the surface as to be deprived of the ke_ comes iseii
. . „ , , , • . • •by being
mgn influences or the atmosphere, loses its vis vitce, ii|on£buri
I may be allowed that expression ; becomes an inert,
lifeless mass, little fitted for nourishing vegetables 5 and
constitutes a soil very improper for the purposes of the
farmer. It therefore behoves him, as much as in him
lies, to preserve, on every part of his fields, an equal
covering of that vegetable mould that has long been
uppermost, and rendered fertile by the meliorating in¬
fluence of the atmosphere. But, if he suddenly levels
his high ridges by any of these mechanical contrivan¬
ces, he of necessity buries all the good mould that was
on ‘he top of the ridges in the old furrows ; by which
he greatly impoverishes one part of his field, while he
too much enriches another; insomuch that it is a mat¬
ter of great difficulty, for many years thereafter, to get
the field brought to an equal degree of fertility in dif¬
ferent places; which makes it impossible for the far¬
mer to get an equal crop over the whole of his field by
any management whatever: and he has the mortifica¬
tion frequently, by this means, to see the one half of
his crop rotted by an over-luxuriance, while other parts
of it are weak and sickly ; or one part ripe and ready
for reaping, while the other is not properly filled; so
that it were, on many occasions, better for him to have
his whole field reduced at once to the same degree of
poorness as the poorest of it, than have it in this state.
An almost impracticable degree of attention in spread¬
ing the manures may indeed in some measure get the
better of this : but it is so difficult to perform this pro¬
perly, that I have frequently seen fields that had been
thus levelled, in which, after thirty years of continued
culture and repeated dressings, the marks of the old
ridges
long buriel
*
’art I.
AGRICULTURE.
l eparation ridgts could be distinctly traced when the corn was
If Land, growing, although the surface was so level that no
—"V—J traces of them could be perceived when the corn was
oft’ the ground.
“ But this is a degree of perfection in levelling that
cannot be usually attained by following this mode of
practice, and therefore is but seldom seen. For all
that can be expected to be done by any levelling ma¬
chine, is to render the surface perfectly smooth and
even in every part, at the time that the operation is
performed : but as, in this case, the old hollows are
suddenly filled up with loose mould to a great depth,
while the earth below the surface upon the heights of
the old ridges remains firm and compact, the new raised
earth after a short time subsides very much, while the
other parts of the field do not sink at all; so that in
a short time the old furrows come to be again below
the level of the other parts of the field, and the water
of course is suffered in some degree to stagnate upon
them } insomuch that, in a few years, it becomes ne¬
cessary once more to repeat the same levelling process,
and thus renew the damage that the farmer sustains by
this pernicious operation,
eve'lling “ these accounts, if the farmer has not a long
metimes lease, it will be found in general to be much his interest
1 to be to leave the ridges as he found them, rather than to
tempted, attempt to alter their direction ; and, if he attends with
due caution to moderate the height of these old ridges,
he may reap very good crops, although perhaps at a
somewhat greater expence of labour than he would
have been put to upon the same field, if it had been
reduced to a proper level surface, and divided into
straight and parallel ridges.
“ But, where a man is secure of possessing his ground
for any considerable length of time, the advantages
that he will reap from having level and well laid out
fields, are so considerable as to be worth purchasing, if
it should even be at a considerable expence. But the
loss that is sustained at the beginning, by this mechani¬
cal mode of levelling ridges, if they are of considerable
height, is so very great, that it is perhaps doubtful if
any future advantages can ever fully compensate it.
I would therefore advise, that all this levelling appa¬
ratus should be laid aside j and the following more effi¬
cacious practice be substituted in its stead : A practice
that I have long followed with success, and can safely
recommend as the very best that has yet come to my
knowledge.
Ume, “ ^ ridges have been raised to a very great
of height, as a preparation for the ensuing operations,
elling. they may be first cloven^ oy scalded out, as it is called
in different places j that is, ploughed so as to lay the
earth on each ridge from the middle towards the fur¬
rows. But if they are only of a moderate degree of
height, this operation may be omitted. When you
mean to proceed to level the ground, let a number of
men be collected, with spades, more or fewer as the
nature of the ground requires, and then set a plough
to draw a furrow directly across the ridges of the whole
field intended to be levelled. Divide this line into as
many parts as you have labourers, allotting to each
ene ridge or two, or more or less, according to their
number, height, and other circumstances. Let each
of the labourers have orders, as soon as the plough has
passed that part assigned him, to begin to dig in the
bottom of the furrow that the plough has just made,
about the middle of the side of the old ridge, keeping
his face towards the old furrow, working backwards
till he comes to the height of the ridge; and then turn
towards the other furrow, and repeat the same on the
other side of the ridge, always throwing the earth that
he digs up into the deep old furrow between the ridges,
that is directly before him j taking care not to dig
deep where he first begins, but to go deeper and deeper
as he advances to the height of the ridge, so as to leave
the bottom of the trench he thus makes across the
ridge entirely level, or as nearly so as possible. And
when he has finished that part of the furrow allotted to
him that the plough has made in going, let him then
go and finish in the same manner his own portion of
the furrow that the plough makes in returning. In this
manner, each man performs his own task through the
whole field, gradually raising the old furrows as the
old heights are depressed. And, if an attentive over¬
seer is at hand, to see that the whole is equally well
done, and that each furrow is raised to a greater height
than the middle of the old ridges, so as to allow for the
subsiding of that loose earth, the operation will be en¬
tirely finished at once, and never again need to be re¬
peated.
“ In performing this operation, it will always be
proper to make the ridges, formed for the purpose of
levelling, which go across the old ridges, as broad as
possible; because the deep trench that is thus made in
each of the furrows is an impediment in the future
operations, as well as the height that is accumulated
in the middle of each of these ridges; so that the fewer
there are of these, the better it is. The farmer, there¬
fore, will do well to advert to this in time, and begin
by forming a ridge by always turning the plough to
the right hand, till it becomes of such a breadth as
makes it very inconvenient to turn longer in that man¬
ner ; and then, at the distance of twice the breadth of
this new-formed ridge from the middle of it, mark off
a furrow for the middle of another ridge, turning
round it to the right hand, in the same manner as was
done in the former, till it becomes of the same breadth
with it; and then, turning to the left hand, plough
out the interval that was left between the two new
formed ridges. By this mode of ploughing, each ridge
may be made of 40, 50, or 60 yards in breadth, with¬
out any great inconvenience ; for although some time
will be lost in turning at the ends of these broad ridges,
yet as this operation is only to be once performed in
this manner, the advantage that is reaped by having
few open furrows, is more than sufficient to counter¬
balance it. And, in order to moderate the height
that would be formed in the middle of each of these
great ridges, it will always be proper to mark out the
ridges, and draw the furrow that is to be the middle of'
each, some days before you collect your labourers to
level the field ; that you may, without any hurry or
loss of labour, clear out a good ti’ench through the
middle of each of the old ridges ; as the plough, at this
time, going and returning nearly in the same track, pre¬
vents the labourers from working properly without tbi#
precaution.
“If these rules are attended to, your field will be at
once reduced to a proper level, and the rich earth that
formed the surface of the old ridges he still kept upon
389
Preparation
of Land.
39°
Preparation the surface of your field ; so that the only loss that the
Of Land, possessor of such ground can sustain by this operation,
' V- ' is merely the expence of performing it.”
He afterwards makes a calculation of the different
expences of levelling by the plough and by the spade,
in which he finds the latter by far the cheapest me-
197 thod.
Proper di- Ijet it be a rule to direct the ridges north and south,
reciion ot jf t]ie groutul wiH permit. In this direction, the east
the n ges. ^ west sides 0f tlie ridges, dividing the sun equally be-
19S tween them, will ripen at the same time.
Narrow Jt is a great advantage in agriculture, to form ridges
ridges an g0 narrow? an(l go low, as to admit the crowns and fur-
si vantage. rowg tf) ciiange(l alternately every crop. The soil
nearest the surface is the best 5 and by such ploughing,
it is always kept near the surface, and never buried.
In high ridges, the soil is accumulated at the crown,
and the furrows left bare. Such alteration of crown
and furrow is easy where the ridges are no more but
seven or eight feet broad. This mode of ploughing
answers perfectly well in sandy and gravelly soils, and
even in loam j but it is not safe in clay soil. In that
soil, the ridges ought to be 12 feet wide, and 20 inches
high } to be preserved always in the same form by cast¬
ing, that is, by ploughing two ridges together, beginning
at the furrow that separates them, and ploughing round
and round till the two ridges be finished. By this
method, the separating furrow is raised a little higher
than the furrows that bound the two ridges. But at
the next ploughing, that inequality is corrected by be¬
ginning at the bounding furrows, and going round and
round till the ploughing of the two ridges be completed
at the separating furrow.
6. Clearing Ground of Weeds.
199
Cleaning For this purpose a new instrument termed a cleaning
harrow. harrow has been introduced by Lord Kames, and is
^ ^ Jib strongly recommended (e). It is one entire piece like
the first of those mentioned above, consisting of seven
bulls, four feet long each, two and one-fourth inches
broad, two and three fourths deep. The bulls are uni¬
ted together by sheths, similar to what are mentioned
above. The intervals between the bulls being thi’ee
and three-fourths inches, the breadth of the whole har¬
row is three feet five inches. In each bull are inserted
eight teeth, each nine inches free below the wood, and
distant from each other six inches. The weight of each
tooth is a pound, or near it. The whole is firmly
bound by an iron plate from corner to corner in the
line of the draught. The rest as in the harrows men¬
tioned above. The size, however, is not invariable.
The cleaning harrow ought to be larger or less, accord¬
ing as the soil is stiff or free.
To give this instrument its full effect, stones of such a
size as not to pass freely between the teeth ought to be
carried off, and clods of that size ought to be broken.
The ground ought to be dry, which it commonly is in
the month of May.
In preparing for barley, turnip, or other summer-
crop, begin with ploughing and cross ploughing. If
the ground be not sufficiently pulverized, let the great
Practice
brake be applied, to be followed successively with the Culture ot
1st and 2d harrows. In stiff soil, rolling may be pro- particular
per, once or twice between the acts. These operations Plains,
will loosen every root, and bring some of them to the
surface. This is the time for the 3d harrow, conducted3 4>
by a boy mounted on one of the horses, who trots fig, 5.
smartly along the field, and brings all the roots to the
surface: there they are to lie for a day or two, tilt
perfectly dry. If any stones or clods remain, they
must be carried off in a cart. And now succeeds the
operation of the cleaning harrow. It is drawn by a
single horse, directed by reins, which the man at the
opposite corner puts over his head, in order to have
both hands free. In this corner is fixed a rope, with
which the man from time to time raises the harrow
from the ground, to let the weeds drop. For the sake
of expedition, the weeds ought to be dropt in a straight
line cross the field, whether the harrow be full or
not ; and seldom is a field so dirty, but that the har¬
row may go 30 yards before the teeth are filled. The
weeds will be thus laid in parallel rows, like those of
hay raked together for drying. A harrow may be
drawn swiftly along the rows, in order to shake out
all the dust •, and then the weeds may be carried clean
off the field in carts. But we are not yet done with
these weeds : instead of burning, which is the ordinary
practice, they may be converted into useful manure,
by laying them in a heap with a mixture of hot dung
to begin fermentation. At first view, this way of
cleaning land will appear operose; but, upon trial,
neither the labour nor expence will be found immode¬
rate. At any rate, the labour and expence ought
not to be grudged ; for if a field be once thoroughly
cleaned, the seasons must be very cross, or the farmer
very indolent, to make it necessary to renew the ope¬
ration in less than 20 years. In the worst seasons, a
few years pasture is always under command ; which
effectually destroys triennial plants, such as thistles and
couch grass.
Sect. III. Culture of particular Plants.
The articles hitherto insisted on, are all of them
preparatory to the capital object of a farm, that of rais¬
ing plants for the nourishment of man and of other a-
nimals. These are of two kinds j cnlmiferous and le¬
guminous ; differing widely from each other. Wheat,
rye, barley, oats, rye-grass, are of the first kind 5 of the
other kind are pease, beans, clover, cabbage, and many
others. ice
Culmiferous plants, says Bonnet, have three sets of Culmifej
roots. The first issue from the seed, and push to theroU5Pl“
surface an upright stem *, another set issue from a knot
in that stem j and a third from another knot, nearer
the surface. Hence the advantage of laying seed so
deep in the ground as to afford space for all the sets. 2oi
Leguminous plants form their roots differently. Legunn
Pease, beans, cabbage, have store of small roots, all110USP*J
issuing from the seed, like the undermost set of culrni-
ferous roots *, and they have no other roots. A potato
and a turnip have bulbous roots. Red clover has a
strong
AGRICULTURE.
(e) In his Gentleman Farmer ; to which performance the practical part of this article is materially indebted.
iirt I.
AGRICULTURE.
a!hue of strong tap root. I he difference between culmiferous
articular and leguminous plants with respect to the effects they
Plants, produce in the soil, will be insisted on afterward, in
^ “ the section concerning rotation of crops. As the pre¬
sent section is confined to the propagation of plants, it
falls naturally to be divided into three articles : first,
Plants cultivated for limit; second, Plants cultivated
tor roots; third, Plants cultivated for leaves.
I. Plants cultivated for Fruit.
i. Wheat and Rye.
illowing Any time from the middle of April to the middle of
'vheat. the fallowing for wheat may commence, the
first ploughing having been given before winter. The
moment should be chosen, when the ground, beginning
to dry, has yet some remaining softness : in that con¬
dition, the soil divides easily by the plough, and falls
into small parts. This is an essential article, deserving
the strictest attention of the farmer. Ground ploughed
too wet, rises, as we say, whole fur, as when pasture
ground is ploughed : when ploughed too dry, it rises
in great lumps, which are not reduced by subsequent
ploughings ; not to mention, that it requires double
force to plough ground too dry, and that the plough is
often broken to pieces. When the ground is in proper
order, the farmer can have no excuse for delaying a
single minute. This first course of fallow must, it is
true, yield to the bailey seed; but, as the barley seed
is commonly over the first week of May, or sooner, the
season must be unfavourable if the fallow cannot be
reached by the middle of May.
As clay soil requires high ridges, these ought to be
cleaved at the first ploughing, beginning at the furrow,
and ending at the crown. This ploughing ought to
be as deep as the soil will admit : and water-furrowing
ought instantly tp follow ; for if rain happen before
water-furrowing, it stagnates in the furrow, necessarily
delays the second ploughing till that part of the ridge
be dry, and prevents the furrow from being mellowed
and roasted by the sun. If this first ploughing be well
executed, annual weeds will rise in plenty.
About the first week of June, the great brake will
loosen and reduce the soil, encourage a second crop of
annuals, and raise to the surface the roots of weeds
moved by the plough. Give the weeds time to spring,
which may be in two or three weeks. Then proceed
to the second ploughing about the beginning of July ;
which must be cross the ridges, in order to reach all
the slips of the former ploughing. By cross-ploughing
the farrows will be filled up, and water-furrowing be
still more necessary than before. Employ the brake
again about the loth of August, to destroy the annuals
that have sprung since the last stirring. The destruc¬
tion of weeds is a capital article in fallowing: yet so
blind are people to their interest, that nothing is more
common than a fallow field covered with charlock ane!
wild mustard, all in flower, and JO or 12 inches high.
The field having now received two harrowings and
two brakings is prepared for manure, whether lime
or dung, which without delay ought to be incorporat¬
ed with the soil by a repeated harrowing and a gather¬
ing furrow. This ought to be about the beginning of
September, and as soon after as you please the seed may
be sown.
391
As in ploughing a clay soil it is of importance to Culture of
prevent poaching, the hinting furrows ought to be done particular
with two horses in a line. If four ploughs be employ- Plants,
eu in the same field, to one of them may be allotted the
care of finishing the hinting furrows. ^
Loam, being a medium between sand and clay, is Dressing
ol all soils the fittest for culture, and the least subjectloam fo‘'
to chances. It does not hold water like clay ; and whenwheat’
wet, it dries sooner. At the same time, it is more re¬
tentive than sand of that degree of moisture which pro¬
motes vegetation. On the other hand, it is more sub¬
ject to couch grass than clay, and to other weeds.
Beginning the fallow about the first of May, or as
soon as barley seed is over, take us deep a furrow as
the soil will admit. Where be ridges are so low and
narrow as that the crown and furrow can be changed
alternately, there is little or no occasion for water-fur-
rowing. Where the ridges are so high as to make it
proper to cleave them, water-furrowing is proper.
The second ploughing may be at the distance of five
(weeks. Two crops of annuals may be got in the in¬
terim, the hrst by the brake and the next by the har¬
row ; and by the same means eight crops may be got
in the season. Ihe ground must be cleared of couch-
grass and knot-grass roots, by the cleaning harrow de¬
scribed above. The time for this operation is imme¬
diately before the manure is laid on. The ground at
that time being in its loosest state, parts with its grass
roots more freely than at any other time. After the
manure is spread, and incorporated with the soil by
braking or harrowing, the seed may be sown under
furrow, if the ground hang so as easily to carry off
the moisture. 10 leave it rough without harrowing
has two advantages : it is not apt to cake with moisture,
and the inequalities make a sort of shelter to the young
plants against frost. But if it lie flat, it ought to be
smoothed with a slight harrow after the seed is sown,
which will facilitate the course of the rain from the
crown to the furrow. ' a04
A sandy soil is too loose for wheat. The only chance ®ressinfi: *
for a crop is after red clover, the roots of which bind<andy soi!’
the soil; and the instructions above given for loam are
applicable here. Rye is a crop much fitter for sandy
soil than wheat; and like wheat, it is generally sown
after a summer fallow.
Lastly, Sow wheat as soon in the month of October Time for
as the ground is ready. When sown a month moresowinS»
early, it is too forward in the spring, and apt to be
hurt by frost; when sown a month later, it has not
time to root before frost comes on ; and frost spews it
out of the ground. ,., 6
Propagating of wheat by dividing and transplanting Propagai-
its roots.—In the Philosophical Transactions for 1768, mgofwhea*:
we meet with a very important experiment, of which tllvldine
the following is an abstract. On the 2d of Junethe r0°'S“
1766, Mr C. Miller sowed some grains of the common
red wheat; and on the 8th of August a single plant
was taken up and separated into 18 parts, and each
part planted separately. These plants having pushed
out several side shoots, by about the middle of Sep¬
tember; some of them were then taken up and divided,
and the rest of them between that time and the middle
of October. This second division produced 67 plants.
These plants remained through the winter, and another
division of them, made between the middle of March
and
wheat ni
Norfolk.
392 A G R I C U
Culture of and the I2tii of April, produced 500 plants. They
particular were then divided no further, but permitted to remain.
Plants, plants were in general stronger than any of the
wheat in the fields. Some of them produced upwards
of 100 ears from a single root. Many of the ears mea¬
sured seven inches in length, and contained between 60
and 70 grains.
The whole number of ears which, by the process
above mentioned, were produced from one grain of
wheat, was 21,109, which yielded three pecks and
three quarters of clean corn, the weight of which was
471b. 7 ounces j and from a calculation made by count¬
ing the number of grains in an ounce, the whole num¬
ber of grains was about 386,840.
By this account we find, that there was only one
general division of the plants made in the spring. Had
a second been made, Mr Miller thinks the number of
plants would have amounted to 2000 instead of 500,
and the produce thereby been much enlarged.
The ground was a light blackish soil, upon a gra¬
velly bottom } and, consequently, a bad soil for wheat.
One half of the ground was well dunged, the other
half had no manure. There was, however, not any
difference discoverable in the vigour, or growth, or pro¬
duce, of the plants.—It must be evident, that the ex¬
pence and labour of setting in the above manner by the
hand, will render it scarcely practicable upon a large
scale so as to be productive of any utility.
207 There is perhaps no part of Great Britain where this
Culture of species of grain is cultivated to more perfection than
in jn 'jsj0rf0]ic.> ]yjr Marshall informs us, that the species
raised in that county is called the Norfolk red, and
weighs heavier than any other which has yet been in¬
troduced, though he owns that its appearance is much
against the assertion, it being a long thin grain, re¬
sembling rye more than well-bodied wheat. About 15
or 20 years ago a new species was Introduced, named
the Kentish cosh; against which the millers were at first
very much prejudiced, though this prejudice is now got
over. A remarkable circumstance respecting this grain
is, that though upon its introduction into the county
the cosh or husk be perfectly white, yet such is the
power either of the soil or of the mode of cultivation
to produce what the botanists call varieties, that the
grain in question is said to lose every year somewhat of
the whiteness of its husks, until they become at last
equally red with those of the former kind. The
southern and south-eastern parts of the county generally
enjoy a stronger and richer soil than the more north¬
erly, and therefore are more proper for the cultivation
of that species of grain. In the northern parts are
some farms of very light soil, where the farmers sow
only a small quantity of wheat; and these light lands
are called barley farms.
The greatest part of the wheat in Norfolk is sown
upon a second year’s ley $ sometimes it is sown upon a
first year’s ley j sometimes on a summer fallow } after
pease, turnips, of buck harvested or ploughed under.
The practice adopted by those who are looked upon as
superior husbandmen in the county of Norfolk is as fol¬
lows : The second year’s leys having finished the bul¬
locks, and brought the stock cattle and horses through
the fore part of summer, and the first year’s leys having
been ready to receive his stock, the farmer begins to
break up his old laud ex ley ground by a peculiar mode
soS
Succession
of crops,
See.
L T U R E. Practice,
of cultivation named rice-balking, in which the furrow Culture of
is always turned toward the unploughed ground, the Partieular
edge of the coulter passing always close by the edge of, 1
the flag last turned. This is done at first with an even 209
regular furrow ; opportunity being taken for perform- Rice-halh.
ing the operation after the surface has been moistened>ng,apart!,
by a summer shower. In this state his summer leys re.cula? mode
main until towards the end of harvest, when he har* explained
rows and afterwards ploughs them across the balks of
the former ploughing, bringing them now up to the
full depth of the soil. On this ploughing he immedi¬
ately harrows the manure, and ploughs it in with a
shallow furrow. The effects of this third ploughing
are to mix and effectually pulverize the soil and ma¬
nure ; to cut off and pulverize the upper surfaces of the
furrows of the second ploughing 5 and thus, in the most
effectual manner, to eradicate or smother the weeds
which had escaped the twTo former ones. Thus it lies
until the seed time, when it is harrowed, rolled, sown,
and gathered up into ridges of such width as the farmer
thinks most proper. Those of six furrows are most com¬
mon, though some very good farmers lay their wheat
land into four-furrow and others into ten-furrow ridges ;
“ which last (says our author) they execute in a style
much superior to what might be expected from wheel
ploughs.” They excel, however, in the six-furrow
ploughing) of which Mr Marshall gives a particular
account. When ploughing in this manner, they carry
very narrow furrows •, so that a six-furrow ridge, set
out by letting the off-horse return in the first made fur¬
rows, does not measure more than three feet eight or
nine inches.
When wheat is cultivated after the first year’s ley,
the seed is generally sown upon the flag or furrow
turned over. After pease, one or two ploughings are
given *, the other parts of the management being the
same with that after the second year’^ ley already men¬
tioned. After buck harvested he seldom gives more
than two, and sometimes but one, ploughing. In the
former case he spreads his manure on the stubble, and
ploughs it in with a shallow furrow } harrows, rolls,
sows, and gathers up the soil into narrow work. I he
manure is in like manner spread on the stubble after
once ploughing •, and the seed is then sown among the
manure, the whole ploughed in together, and the soil
gathered up into narrow ridges, as if it had undergone
the operations of a fallow. An inconvenience attend¬
ing this practice is, that the buck which is necessarily
shed in harvesting springs up among the wheat, and
becomes a weed to it, at the same time that the rooks,
if numerous, pull up both buck and wheat, leaving se¬
veral patches quite bare. This is obviated in a great
measure by first ploughing in the manure and self-sown
buck with a shallow furrow ; in consequence of which
the buck vegetates before the wheat.
It is likewise a favourite practice with the Norfolk
farmers to raise wheat after buck ploughed under. They
plough under the buck by means ol a broom made of
rough bushes fixed to the fore tackle of the plough be¬
tween the wheels, which bears down the plant with¬
out lifting the wheels from the ground. Sometimes,
when the buck is strong, they first break it down with
a roller going the same way that the plough is intend¬
ed to go 5 afterwards a good ploughman will cover it
so effectually that scarce a stalk can be seen. Some-
* time*
'art I. A G R I C
Culture of t*11168 ^)e surface of tlie ground is left rough, but it is
mticular more eligible to harrow and roll it. The practice of
Plants, summer fallowing seldom occurs in Norfolk j though
sometimes, when the soil has been much worn down by
cropping, and overrun by weeds, it is esteemed a ju¬
dicious practice by many excellent husbandmen, and
the practice seems to be daily gaining ground. After
turnips the soil is ploughed to a moderate depth, and
the seed sown over the first ploughing : but if the tur¬
nips be got in early, the weeds are sometimes first
ploughed in with a shallow furrow, and the seed plough¬
ed under with a second ploughing, gathering the soil
1J0 into narrow ridges.
anuring With regard to the manuring of the ground for
c ground wheat in Norfolk, that which has been recently clayed
N01 folk. or marled ]s sUpp0Sed to need no other preparation
any more than that which has received 15 or 20 loads
of dung and mould for turnips j the first year’s ley
having been teathed in autumn, and the second fed
off. Where the soil is good, and the wdieat apt to
run too much to straw, it is the practice of some judi¬
cious farmers to set their manure upon the young clo¬
ver, thereby depriving the wheat in some degree of its
rankness ; but it is most common to spread it upon
the broken ground 5 or if the seed be sown upon the
turned furrow, to spread it on the turf and plough it
under; or to spread it on the ploughed surface, and
harrow it in with the seed as a top-dressing. A small¬
er quantity of manure is generally made use of for
■wheat than for turnips. From eight to ten cart loads
(as much as three horses can conveniently draw) are
reckoned sufficient for an acre ; three or four chaldrons
of lime to one acre, or 40 bushels of soot to the same
quantity of ground } or about a ton of rape-cake to
three acres.
In this county they never begin to sow wheat till
after the 17th of October, and continue till the be¬
ginning of December, sometimes even till Christmas.
They give as a reason for this late sowing, that the
wheat treated in this manner is less apt to run to straw
than when sown earlier. The seed is generally prepa¬
red with brine, and candied in the usual manner with
lime. The following method of preparing it is said
to be effectual in preventing the smut. “ The salt is
dissolved in a very small quantity of water, barely suf¬
ficient for the purpose. The lime is slaked with this
solution, and the wheat candied with it in its hottest
state, having been previously moistened with pure wa¬
ter.” According to our author’s observation, the
crops of those farmers who use this preparation are in
general more free from smut than those who make use
of any other.
The practice of dibbling or setting of wheat has not
as yet become general throughout Norfolk, the common
broad-cast method being usually followed, except on
the Suffolk side of the county. Some few make use of
dibbling and fluting rollers $ but drilling is almost en¬
tirely unknown, notwithstanding the great aptitude of
soil for the practice. Ploughing in the seed under fur¬
row is the favourite mode of the Norfolk farmers, and
' shing is performed in the following manner: “ The land ha-
u r f(]r ving been harrowed down level, and the surface ren-
r( de- dered smooth by the roller, the head ploughman (if at
leisure) marks out the whole piece in narrow slips of
about a statute rood in width. This he does by hang-
Vol. I. Part I. f
Plants.
m
ne of
ing.
m
f >epa-
1 ;the
1 I.
, 2I3
J hod of
.14
de-
‘t ed.
U L T U R E. 393
ing up the plough in such a manner, that no part of it Culture of
except the heel touches the ground : and this makes a particular
sure mark for the seedsman, which he cannot by any
means mistake. In case the ploughs are all employed,
the seedsman himself max-ks the ground, by drawing a
piece of wood or other heavy body behind him.” Mr
Marshall prefers this to the Kentish method of setting
up sticks in the form of a lane, as being less liable to
produce mistakes.
In those places where wheat is dibbled, they make Instrumenu
use of iron instruments for the purpose. The actino for dibbling
part is an egg-shaped knob, somewhat larger than a vvheat de¬
pigeon’s egg; the smaller end is the point of the^” € ‘
dibble, the larger having a rod of iron rising from it
about half an inch square, and two feet and a half
long; the head being received into a cross piece of
wood resembling the crutch of a spade or shovel, which
forms the handle. The dibbler uses two of these in¬
struments, one in each hand ; and, bending over them,
walks backward upon the turned furrows, making two
rows of holes in each of them. Those rows are usually
made at the distance of four inches from each other :
the holes being two and a half or three inches distant,
viz. four in each length of the foot of the dibbler. The
great art in making these lies in leaving them firm and
smooth in the sides, so that the loose mould may not run
in to fill them up before the seeds are deposited. This
is done by a circular motion of the hand and wrist;
making a semi-revolution every stioke ; the circular mo¬
tion beginning as the bit enters, and continuing until it
is entii’ely disengaged from the mould. The operation
is not perfect unless the dibbles come out clean and wear
bright. It is somewhat difficult to make the holes at
equal distances; but moi’e especially to keep the two
straight and parallel to each other, some practice being
required to guide the instruments in such a manner as
to correspond exactly with each other; but though
couples have been invented to remedy this inconve¬
nience to keep them at a proper distance, the other
method is still found to be preferable. A middling
workman will make four holes in a second. One dib¬
bler is sufficient for three droppers ; whence one man
and three children are called a set. The dibbler car¬
ries on three flags or turned furrows ; going on some
yards upon one of the outside furrows, and returning
upon the other, after which he takes the middle one;
and thus keeps his three droppei's constantly employed,
and at the same time is in no danger of filling up the
holes with his feet. The dropper’s put in two or three
grains of wheat into each hole ; but much time and
patience is necessary to teach them to perform the bu¬
siness properly and quickly. An expert dibbler will
hole half an acre in a day ; though one-third of an
acre is usually reckoned a good day’s work. The seed
is covered by means of a bush harrow; and from one
bushel to six pecks is the usual quantity for an acre.
Notwithstanding the advantages of saving seed, as well
as some others which are generally reckoned undeni¬
able, it is here asserted by some very judicious farmers,
that dibbling of wheat on the whole is not really a pro- 21£
fitable practice. It is particularly said to be produc-Objection*
tive of weeds unless dibbled very thick : which indeed aSa'nst the
may probably be the case, as the weeds are thus allow-ot
ed a greater space to vegetate in. Mr Marshall him¬
self is of opinion, that “ the dibbling of wheat ap-
3 D pears
394
A G R I C U
217
Culture of
wheat in
the mid¬
land di¬
strict.
Culture of pears to be peculiarly adapted to rich deep soils, on
particular which three or four pecks dibbled early may spread
Plants, sufllciently for a full crop ; whereas light, weak, shal-
—y- jow so;]s} which have lain two or three years, and have
become grassy, require an additional quantity of seed,
and consequently an addition of labour, otherwise the
plants are not able to reach each other, and the grasses
of course find their way up between them, by which
means the crop is injured and the soil rendered foul.”
The same author has likewise given an account of
the method of cultivating wheat practised in other En¬
glish counties. In the midland district, including part
of Staffordshire, Derbyshire, Warwick, and Leicester¬
shire, we are informed that the species usually sown is
that called Red Lammas, the ordinary red wheat of
the kingdom : but of late a species named the Essex
dun, similar to the Kentish white cosh of Norfolk, and
the Hertfordshire brown of Yorkshire, has been coming
into vogue. Cone-wheat, formerly in use in this di¬
strict, is now out of fashion. Spring wheat is cultiva¬
ted with remarkable success, owing principally to the
time of sowing j viz. the close of April. Our author
was informed by an excellent farmer in these parts,
that by sowing early, as in the beginning of March,
the grain was liable to be shrivelled, and the straw to
be blighted •, while that which was sown towards the
end of April, or even in the beginning of May, pro¬
duced clean plump corn. At the time he visited this
district, however, it seemed to be fallen into disre¬
pute •, though he looks upon it, in some situations,
especially in a turnip country, to be eligible. In the
ordinary succession in this part of the kingdom, wheat
comes after oats j and there is perhaps nine-tenths of
the wheat in this district sown upon oat-stubble. Our
author has also seen a few examples of wheat bring
sown upon turf of six or seven years leying j and se¬
veral others on clover ley once ploughed, as well as some
after turnips. The best crops, however, produced in
this, or perhaps in any other district, are after sum¬
mer fallow. The time of sowing is the month of Oc¬
tober, little being sown before Michaelmas j and in a
favourable season, little after the close of the month.
Much seed is sown here without preparation. When
any is made use of, it is the common one of brine can¬
died with lime. The produce is full three quarters per
acre, sometimes four or five j and one farmer, 1.1 the
year 1782, had on 50 acres of land together, no less
than 45 bushels per acre.
In the Vale of Gloucester, the cone-wheat, a variety
of the triticum turgidum, is cultivated, as well as the
larnmas and spring wheats. It is not, however, the true
cone-wheat which is cultivated here, the ears being
nearly cylindrical j but our author met with the true
species in North-Wiltshire. Beans in this country
are the common predecessors of wheat, and sometimes
pease } but here the farmers cultivate wheat upon every
species of soil. The time of sowing is in November
and December, and the seed is thought to be sown in
sufficient time if it is done before Christmas. In this
country it is thought that late sown crops always pro¬
duce better than those which are sown early ; but Mr
Marshall accounts for this by the vast quantity of weeds
the latter have to encounter, and which the late sown
crops escape by reason of the weakness of vegetation
at that time of the year. The produce, however,
3
L T U R E. Practice.
throughout the Vale of Gloucester, is but very indiffe- Culture oi
rent.—Setting of wheat is not practised, but hoeing particular
universally.—In harvesting, Mr Marshall observes, that Plants,
the grain is allowed to stand until it be unreasonably ^ J
ripe, and that it is bound up into very small sheaves. 2l9
The practice of making double bands is unknown inRemark-
this district •, so that the sheaves are no bigger than canably smaH
be contained in the length of single straw. The in-sleaw’
conveniences of this method are, that the crop requires
more time to stock, load and unload, and stack : the ad¬
vantages are, that the trouble of making hands is avoid¬
ed $ and that if rainy weather happens to intervene, the
small sheaves dry much sooner than the large ones.
Here the crop is cut very high, the stubble and weeds
being mown off in swaths for litter soon after the crop is
cut: and sometimes sold as high as 5s. per acre.—Mr
Marshall is at a loss to account for the little quantity
produced in this country : it being hardly possible to de¬
rive it from the nature of the soil, almost all of it being
proper for the cultivation of the grain. mo
Among the Cotswold hills of Gloucester the lam-IntheCoti.
mas and cone wheats are sown ; and a new variety ofwold hllls-
the latter was raised not long ago by picking out a
single grain of seed from among a parcel. The body
is very long and large, but not sightly.—The Cots¬
wold hills are almost proverbial for early sowing of
wheat. The general rule is to begin ploughing in July,
and sowing the first wet weather in August j so that here
the seed-time and harvest of wheat coincide. If, in
consequence of this early sowing the blade becomes
rank in autumn, it is supposed to be proper to eat it
down by putting a large flock of sheep upon it at once.
Eating it in spring is considered as pernicious. It is 221
usually weeded with spud-hooks; not hoed, as in thej”sta®«®
Vale. One instance, however, is mentioned by our fects of 1
author, in which a very thin crop full of seed-weedshoe;ng
hoed in autumn with uncommon success, occurred in wheat,
the practice of a superior manager in this district;
as well as others in which wheat has been weeded in
autumn with great advantage. He also met with an¬
other well authenticated instance of the good effect ol 222
cutting mildewed wheat while very green. “ A fine Of cuttnij
  ' and be-mildewed
218
la the vale
of Glouce¬
ster.
piece of wheat being lodged by heavy rains,   ^catw
ing soon after perceived to be infected with the mil- rreen
dew, was cut, though still in a perfectly green state ;a
namely, about three weeks before the usual time of cut¬
ting. It lay spread abroad upon the stubble until it
became dry enough to prevent its caking in the sheaf;
when it was bound and set up in shocks. The result
of this treatment was, that the grain, though small,
was of a fine colour, and the heaviest wheat which
grew upon the same farm that season ; owing, no doubt,
to the thinness of its skin. What appears much more
remarkable, the straw was perfectly bright, not a speck
upon it.—In this part of the country, the produce of
wheat is superior to that in the Vale ; but Mr Marshall
is of opinion, that the soil is much more fit for barley
than wheat.
In Yorkshire, though generally a grass land coun'
try, and where of consequence corn is only a s6001’"Yorkshir
davy concern, yet several kinds ot wheat are culti¬
vated, particularly Zealand, Downy Kent, Common
White, Hertfordshire Brown, Yellow Kent, Common
Red. All these are varieties of winter wheat; besides
tyhich they cultivate also the spring or summer wheat.
Heie
Part I.
Here our author makes several curious observations
concerning the raising of varieties of plants. “ It is
probable, says he, that time has the same effect up¬
on the varieties of wheat and other grains as it has on
those of cultivated fruits, potatoes, and other vegeta-
. ble productions. Thus to produce an early pea, the
gardener marks the plants which open first into blossom
among the most early kind he has in cultivation. Next
year he sows the produce of those plants, and goes
over the coming crop in the manner he had done the
preceding year, marking the earlier of this early kind.
In a similar manner new varieties of apples are raised,
by choosing the broadest leaved plants among a bed of
seedlings rising promiscuously from pippins. Husband¬
men, it is probable, have heretofore been equally in¬
dustrious in producing fresh varieties of corn ; or
whence the endless variety of winter wheats ? If they
be naturally of one species, as Linnaeus has deemed
them, they must have been produced by climature,
soil, or industry; for although nature sports with in¬
dividuals, the industry of man is requisite to raise, esta¬
blish, and continue a permanent variety. The only
instance in which I have had an opportunity of tracing
the variety down to the parent individual, has occurred
to me in this district. A man of acute observation,
having, in a piece of wheat, perceived a plant of un¬
common strength and luxuriance, diffusing its branches
on every side, and setting its closely-surrounding neigh¬
bours at defiance \ marked it ; and at harvest removed
it separately. The produce was 15 ears, yielding 604
grains of a strong-bodied liver-coloured wheat, diffe¬
rent, in general appearance, from every other variety he
bad seen. The chaff was smooth, without awns, and
of the colour of the grain ; the straw stout and reedy.
These 604 grains were planted singly, nine inches
asunder, filling about 40 square yards of ground, on
a clover stubble, the remainder of the ground being
sown with wheat in the ordinary way 5 by which means
extraordinary trouble and destruction by birds were
avoided. The produce was two gallons and a half,
weighing 20^ lb. of prime grain for seed, besides some
pounds of seconds. One gi-ain produced 35 ears, yield¬
ing 1 235 grains ; so that the second year’s produce was
sufficient to plant an acre of ground. What deters far¬
mers from improvements of this nature is probably the
mischievousness of birds: from which at harvest it is
scarcely possible to preserve a small patch of corn, es¬
pecially in a garden or other ground situated near a
habitation j but by carrying on the improvement in a
field of corn of the same nature, that inconvenience is
got rid of. In this situation, however, the botanist will
be apprehensive of danger from the floral farina of the
surrounding crop. But from what observations I have
made, I am of opinion his fears will be groundless. No
evil of this kind occurred, though the cultivation of
the above variety was carried on among white wheat.
But this need not be brought as an evidence ; it is not
uncommon here to sow a mixture of red and white
wheats together j and this, it is confidently asserted,
without impairing even the colour of either of them.
The same mode of culture is applicable to the improve¬
ment of varieties j which perhaps would be more pro¬
fitable to the husbandman than raising new ones, and
more expeditious.”
In Yorkshire the very singular preparation of seed
AGRICULTURE.
395
wheat prevails which we formerly mentioned, viz. the Culture of
steeping it in a solution of arsenic, as a preventive of particular
smut. Marshall was informed by one farmer, that he Phuits.
had made use of this preparation for 20 years with sue- ^
cess having never during that long space of time suf-
fered any sensible injury from smut. Our author seems tion of
inclined to believe the efficacy of this preparation j butwheai with
thinks there may be some reason to apprehend danger arsenic-
in the use of such a pernicious mineral, either through
the carelessness of servants, or handling of the seed by
the person who sows it. I he farmer above mentioned,
however, during all the time he used it, never experi¬
enced any inconvenience either to himself, the seeds¬
man, or even to the poultry ; though these last, we
should have thought, would have been peculiarly liable
to accidents from arsenicated seed. The preparation is
made by pounding the arsenic extremely fine, boiling
it in water, and drenching the seed with the decoc¬
tion. “ In strictness, says Mr Marshall, the arsenic
should be levigated sufficiently fine to be taken up and
washed over with water, reducing the sediment until it
be fine enough to be carried over in the same man¬
ner. The usual method of preparing the liquor is to
boil one ounce of white arsenic, finely powdered, in a
gallon of water, from one to two hours: and to add
to the decoction as much water or stale urine as will
increase the liquor to two gallons. In this liquor the
seed is, or ought to be, immerged, stirring it about in
such a manner as to saturate effectually the downy end
of each grain. This done, and the liquor drawn oft',
the seed is considered as fit for the seed basket, with¬
out being candied with lime, or any other prepara¬
tion. A bushel of wheat has been observed to take up
about a gallon of liquor. I he price of arsenic is about
sixpence per pound j which, on this calculation, will
cure four quarters of seed. If no more than three
quarters be prepared with it, the cost will be only a
farthing per bushel; but to this must be added the la¬
bour of pounding and boiling. Nevertheless, it is by
much the cheapest, and perhaps, upon the whole, adds
Mr Marshall, the best preparation we are at present
acquainted with. In this county it is believed, that a
mixture of wheat and rye, formerly a very common
crop in these parts, is never affected with mildew ; but
our author does not vouch for the truth of this asser¬
tion.
2. Oats.
As winter-ploughing enters into the culture of oats, of
we must remind the reader of the effect of frost upon frost upon
tilled land. Px-ovidence has neglected no region in-tilled land,
tended for the habitation of man. If in warm climates
the soil be meliorated by the sun, it is no less meliora¬
ted by frost in cold climates. Frost acts upon water, by-
expanding it into a larger space. Frost has no effect
upon dry earth ; witness sand, upon which it fnakes
no impression. But upon wet eai’th it acts most vigo¬
rously j it expands the moisture, which requiring more
space puts every particle of the earth out of its place,
and separates them from each other. In that view,
frost may be considered as a plough superior to any
that is made, or can he made, by the hand of man:
its action reaches the minutest particles ; and, by di¬
viding and separating them, it renders the soil loose
and friable. This operation is the most remarkable in
3 D 2 tilled
Plants.
%z^
Culture of
•ats.
396 A G K I
Culture of tilled land, which gives free access to frost. With re~
particular suect to clay soil in particular, there is no rule m hus¬
bandry more essential than to open it before winter in
hopes of frost. It is even advisable in a clay soil to
leave the stubble rank 5 which, when ploughed in be¬
fore winter, keeps the clay loose, and admits the frost
into every cranny.
To apply this doctrine, it is dangerous to plough
clay soil when wet j because water is a cement for clay,
and binds it so as to render it unlit for vegetation. It
is, however, less dangerous to plough wet clay before
winter than after. A succeeding frost corrects the bad
effects of such ploughing; a succeeding drought in¬
creases them.
The common method is, to sow oats on new-plough¬
ed land in the month of March, as soon as the ground
is tolerably dry. If it continues wet all the month ot
March, it is too late to venture them after. It is much
better to summer-fallow, and to sow wheat in the au¬
tumn. But the preferable method, especially in clay
soil is to turn over the field after harvest, and to lay it
open to the influences of frost and air, which lessen the
tenacity of clay, and reduce it to a free mould, ibe
surface-soil by this means is finely mellowed for recep¬
tion of the seed j and it would be a pity to bury it by
a second ploughing before sowing. In general, the
bulk of clay soils are rich ; and skilful ploughing, with¬
out dung, will probably give a better crop, than un¬
skilful ploughing with dung.
Hitherto of natural clays. We must add a word or
carse clays which are artificial, whether left by the sea,
or sweeped down from higher grounds by rain. 1 he
method commonly used of dressing carse day for oats,
Is not to stir it till the ground be dry in the spring,
which seldom happens before the 1st of March, and the
seed is sown as soon after as the ground is sufficiently
dry for its reception. Frost has a stronger effect on
such clays than on natural clay. And if the field be
laid open before winter, it is rendered so loose by frost
as to be soon drenched in water. The particles at the
same time are so small, as that the first drought in
spring makes the surface cake or crust. I he difficulty
of reducing this crust into mould for covering the oat-
seed, has led farmers to delay ploughing till the month
of March. But we are taught by experience, that this
soil ploughed before winter, is sooner dry than when
the ploughing is delayed till spring ; and as early sow¬
ing is a great advantage, the objection of the superficial
crusting is easily removed by the first harrow above de¬
scribed, which will produce abundance of mould for
covering the seed. The ploughing before winter not
only procures early sowing, but has another advantage .
the surface-soil that had been mellowed during winter
by the sun, frost, and wind, is kept above.
The dressing a loamy soil for oats differs little from
dressing a clay soil, except in the following particular,
that being less hurt by rain, it requires not high ridges,
and therefore ought to be ploughed crown and furrow
alternately. f
Where there is both clay and loam m a farm, it is
obvious, from what is said above, that the ploughing
of the clay after harvest ought first to be dispatched. If
both cannot be overtaken that season, the loam may be
delayed till the spring with less hurt.
Next of a gravelly soil : which is the reverse of clay,
2
C U L T U K E.
Practice.
as it never suffers but from want of moisture. Such a Culture of
soil ought to have no ridges j but be ploughed circu- particular
larly from the centre to the circumference, or from the , Plants.
circumference to the centre. It ought to be tilled af-
ter harvest: and the first dry weather in spring ought
to be laid hold of to sow, harrow, and roll > which will
preserve it in sap. #
The culture of oats is the simplest of all. That
grain is probably a native of Britain : it will grow on
the worst soil with very little preparation. For that
reason, as already noticed, before turnip was introdu¬
ced, it was always the first crop upon land broken up
from the state of nature. # 228
In Norfolk this kind of grain is much less cultiva-Norfolk
ted than barley; and the only species observed by .Mr cultivation
Marshall is a kind of white oat, which grows quick-of oats*
ly, and seems to be of Dutch extraction. Oats are
cultivated occasionally on all kinds of soils, but more
especially on cold heavy land, or on very light, unpro¬
ductive, heathy soils. They may frequently succeed
wheat, or ley ground barley : “ but (says our author)
there are no established rules respecting any part of the
culture of this time-serving crop.” The culture ot
the ground is usually the same with that of barley ; the
ground generally undergoing a winter fallow of tiuee
or four ploughings, though sometimes they are sown
after one ploughing. They are more commonly sown
above furrow than barley. Fhe seed-time is made
subservient to that of barley, being sometimes sooner
and sometimes later than barley seed-time: and Mr
Marshall observes, that he has sometimes seen them
sown in June. The quantity of seed in Norfolk is from
four to five bushels per acre ; but he does not acquaint 22^
us with the produce. He mentions a very singular’\fet},0(i 0f
method of culture sometimes practised in this country,ploughing
viz. ploughing down the oats after they begin to yege-d<wn oats,
tate, but before they have got above ground ; which is
attended with great success, even though the ground is
turned over with a full furrow. By this method weeds
of every kind are destroyed, or at least checked in such
a manner as to give the crop an opportunity of getting
above them; and the porosity communicated to the
soil is excellently well adapted to the infant plants of
barley ; which probably might frequently receive bene¬
fit from this operation. 230
In the Vale of Gloucester, Mr Marshall observes, Wiid oats
that the wild oat is a very troublesome weed, as. well a weed in
as in Yorkshire ; and he is of opinion, that it is ^SQjeoucestcrii
truly a native of Great Britain as any other aiable
weed, and is perhaps the most difficult to be extirpated.
It will lie a century in the soil without losing its ve¬
getative quality. Ground which has lain in a state of
grass time immemorial, both in Gloucester and Yoik-
shire, has produced it in abundance on being broken
up. It is also endowed with the same seemingly in¬
stinctive choice of seasons and state of the soil as other
seeds of weeds appear to have. Hence it is excessive¬
ly difficult to be overcome ; for as it ripens before any
crop of grain, it sheds its seed on the soil, where the
roughness of its coat probably secures it from birds.
The only methods of extirpating this plant are fallow- 2^r
ing, hoeing, and handweeding, where the last is prac-0atsnot
ticable, after it has shot its panicle. cultivated
No oats are cultivated in the Vale of Gloucester;”^ t e
ixo oais aie euiuvaicu .... • 1 0fGlouces-
though the wild oats grow everywhere as already saut-^
art I.
ict.
*33
fork-
'f.
alture of Marshall is of opinion that it is better adapted to
irticular oats than to barley. The reason he assigns for the
Plants, preference given to the latter is, that in this part of
m~'> ^ie country the monks were formerly very numerous,
who probably preferred a/e to oaten cake.—He now,
however, recommends a trial of the grain on the strong¬
er cold lands in the area of the Vale, as they seldom
can be got sufficiently fine for barley. The fodder
from oats he accounts much more valuable than that
from barley to a dairy country j and the grain would
more than balance in quantity the comparative differ-
332 ence in price.
Itivation In the midland district the Poland oat, which was
formerly in vogue, has now given place to the Dutch or
l* Friesland kind. It is constantly sown after turf 5 one
ploughing being given in February, March, or April.
The seed-time is the latter end of March and beginning
of April, from four to seven bushels an acre } the pro¬
duce is in proportion to the seed, the medium bein<*
about six quarters.
In Yorkshire the 1 riesland oats are likewise pre¬
ferred to the Poland, as affording more straw, and be¬
ing thinner skinned than the latter. The Siberian or
Tartarian oat, a species unnoticed by Linnaeus, is like¬
wise cultivated in this country : the reed oat is known,
but has not yet come into any great estimation. The
grain is light, and the straw too reedy to be affected
by cattle.
Oats are particularly cultivated in the western divi¬
sion of the Vale of Yorkshire; where the soil is chiefly
a rich sandy loam, unproductive of wheat. Five or
six bushels, or even a quarter of oats, are sometimes
sown upon an acre ; the produce from seven to ten
quarters. In this country they are threshed in the
open air, and frequently even upon the bare ground,
without even the ceremony of interposing a cloth. The
reasons assigned for this seemingly strange practice
are, that if pigs and poultry be employed to eat up the
grain which escapes the broom, there will be little or
no waste. Here the market is always very great for
new oats, the manufacturing parts of West Yorkshire
using principally oat-bread. The only objection to this
practice is the chance of bad weather ; but there is al¬
ways plenty of straw to cover up the threshed corn, and
it is found that a little rain upon the straw does not
make it less agreeable to cattle.
< 4ackeUt an exPer'ment ma^e by Mr Bartley near Bristol,
. ac upon black oats, we are informed that he had the pro-
1 A P«. digious increase of 98^ Winchester bushels from four on
i ,ro!.iT. tlie acre: the land was a deep, mellow, sandy loam. It
had carried potatoes the former year, and received one
ploughing for a winter fallow. Another ploughing was
given it in February, and the seed was sown on the
27th and 28th of the month. The success of the ex¬
periment was supposed to be owing partly to the early
sowing and partly to a good deep tillage.
23(j 3. Barley.
( Aire of This is a culmiferous plant that requires a mellow
^ sod. Upon that account, extraordinary care is requi¬
site where it is to be sown in clay. The land ought to
be stirred immediately after the foregoing crop is re¬
moved, which lays it open to be mellowed with the
*37 frost and air. In that view, a peculiar sort of plough-
agriculture.
397
*34
! ^ular
i hod of
*3J
ing has been introduced, termed ribbing ; by which the
greatest quantity of surface possible is exposed to the Cnlmre r-r
air and frost. _ The obvious objection to this method particular
is, that halt ot the ridge is left unmoved. And to ob- Plants.
viate that objection, the following method is offered, ' 
winch moves the whole soil, and at the same time ex¬
poses the same quantity of surface to the frost and air. 2.38
As soon as the former crop is off the held, let the A be“er
ridges be gathered with as deep a furrow as the soil metllud*
will admit, beginning at the crown and ending at the
furrows. Ibis ploughing loosens the whole soil, giv¬
ing free access to the air and frost. Soon after, begin
a second ploughing in the following manner : Let the
held be divided by parallel lines cross the ridges, with
intervals of thirty feet or so. Plough once round an
interval, beginning at the edges, and turning the earth
toward the middle of the interval; which covers a foot
or so of the ground formerly ploughed. Within that
foot plough another round similar to the former; and,
after that, other rounds, till the whole interval be fi¬
nished, ending at the middle. Instead of beginning at
the edges, and ploughing toward the middle, it will
have the same effect to begin at the middle, and to
plough toward the edges. Plough the other intervals
m the same manner. As by this operation the furrows
of the ridges will be pretty much filled up, let them
be cleared and water-furrowed without delay. By this
method, the field will be left waving like a plot in a
kitchen garden, ridged up for winter. In this form,
the field is kept perfectly dry ; for beside the capital
furrows that separate the ridges, every ridge has a
number of cross furrows that carry the rain instantly
to the capital furrows. In hanging grounds retentive
of moisture, the parallel lines above mentioned ought
not to be perpendicular to the furrows of the ridges,
but to be directed a little downward, in order to carry
rain water the more hastily to these furrows. If the
ground be clean, it may lie in that state winter and
spring, till the time of seed-furrowing. If weeds hap¬
pen to rise, they must be destroyed by ploughing, or
braking, or both ; for there cannot be worse husban-
dry, than to put the seed into dirty grovnd.
rIhis method resembles common ribbing in appear-Advanta-
ance, butTs very different in reality. As the common 8'es of tbi*
ribbing is not preceded by a gathering furrow, the ine^10d°
half of the field is left untilled, compact as when the
former crop was removed, impervious in a great mea¬
sure to air or frost. The common ribbing at the same
time lodges the rain-water on every ridge, preventing
it from descending to the furrows ; which is hurtful in
all soils, and poisonous in a clay soil. The stitching
here described, or ribbing, if you please to call it so,
prevents these noxious effects. By the two ploughings
the whole soil is opened, admitting freely air and frost;
and the multitude of furrows lays the surface perfectly
dry, giving an early opportunity for the barley-seed. 
But further, as to the advantage of this method: 240
When it is proper to sow the seed, all is laid flat with Manage-
the brake, which is an easy operation upon soil that is rnent.of
dry and pulverized; and the seed-furrow which suc-^edsin a
ceeds, is so shallow as to bury little or none of the sur- ^ scasoa*'
face earth : whereas the stirring for bailey is common¬
ly done with the deepest furrow ; and consequently bu¬
ries all the surface soil that was mellowed by the frost
and air. Nor is this method more expensive ; because
the common ribbing must always be followed with a
stirring
39®
Culture of
particular
Plants.
Important
experi¬
ments ou
seed-bar-
lev.
241
Time of
sowing.
AGRICULTURE.
Practice
stirring furrow, which is saved in the method recom¬
mended. Nay, it is less expensive ; for after common
ribbing, which keeps in the rain-water, the ground is
commonly so soured, as to make the stirring a labo¬
rious work.
It is well known that barley is less valuable when it
does not ripen equally j and that barley which comes
up speedily, must gain a great advantage over seed-
weeds. Therefore, first take out about one-third of
the contents of the sacks of seed barley or bear to al¬
low' for the swelling of the grain. Lay the sacks with
the grain to steep in clean water ; let it lie covex-ed
with it for at least 24 hours. When the ground is
very dry, and no likelihood of rain for 10 days, it is
better to lie 36 hours. Sowr the grain wet from steep¬
ing, without any addition. The seed will scatter well,
as clean water has no tenacity ; only the sower must
put in a fourth or a third more seed in bulk than usual
of dry grain, as the grain is swelled in that proportion :
harrow it in as quickly as possible after it is sown j
and though not necessary, give it the benefit of fi’esh
furrow, if convenient. You may expect it up in a fort¬
night at farthest.
The following experiment by a correspondent of the
Bath Society being considered as a very interesting one,
is here subjoined.
“ The last spring (1783) being remarkably dry, I
soaked my seed-barley in the black water taken from a
reservoir which constantly receives the draining of my
dung heap and stables. As the light corn floated on
the top, I skimmed it oft’, and let the rest stand 24
hours. On taking it from the water, I mixed the seed
grain with a sufficient quantity of sifted wood-ashes, to
make it spread regularly, and sowed three fields with
it. I began sowing the 16th, and finished the 23d of
April. The produce wTas 60 bushels per acre, of good
clean barley, without any small or green corn, or weeds,
at harvest. No person in this country had better
grain.
I sow'ed also several other fields with the same seed
dry, and without any preparation j but the crop, like
those of my neighbours, was very poor ; not more than
twenty bushels per acre, and much mixed with green
corn and weeds when harvested. I also sowed some of
the seed dry on one ridge in each of my farmer fields,
hut the produce was very poor in comparison of the
other parts of the field.”
Where the land is in good order, and free of weeds,
April is the month for sowing barley. Every day is
proper from the first to the last.
The dressing loamy soil and light soil for barley, is
the same with that described j only that to plough dry
is not altogether so essential as in dressing clay soil.
Loam or sand may be stirred a little moist: better,
however, delay a week or two, than to stir a loam
when wet. Clay must never be ploughed moist, even
though the season should escape altogether. But this
will seldom be necessary ; for not in one year of 20
will it happen, but that clay is dry enough for plough¬
ing some time in May. Frost may correct clay plough¬
ed wet after harvest; but when ploughed wet in the
spring, it unites into a hard mass, not to be dissolved
but by very hard labour.
On the cultivation of this grain we have the follow¬
ing observations by a Noifolk farmer.
The best soil, he observes, is that which is dry and Culture oil
healthy, rather light than stifl7, but yet of sufficient particular*
tenacity and strength to retain the moisture. On this ^kntv
kind of land the grain is always the best bodied and v
coloured, the nimblest in the hand, and has the thinnest
rind. These are qualities which recommend it mostous obsei-j
to the maltster. If the land is poor, it should be dryyat'on8
and warm ; and when so, it will often bear better corn^neciin!n§|
.1 . , 7 , , . , j , A .x . the cultivai
than richer land in a cold and wet situation.
In the choice of your seed, it is needful to observe, ley.
that the best is of a pale lively colour, and brightish
cast, without any deep redness or black tinge at the
tail. If the rind be a little shrivelled, it is the better;
for that slight shrivelling proves it to have a thin skin,
and to have sweated in the mow. The necessity of a
change of seed by not sowing two years together what
grew on the same soil, is not in any part of husbandry-
more evident than in the culture of this grain, which
if not frequently changed, will grow coarser and coarser
every succeeding year.
It has generally been thought, that seed-barley would
be benefited by steeping ; but liming it has, in many
instances, been found prejudicial. Sprinkling a little
soot with the water in which it is steeped has been of
great service, as it will secure the seed from insects.
In a very dry seed time, barley that has been wetted
for malting, and begins to sprout, will come up sooner,
and produce as good a crop as any other.
If you sow after a fallow, plough three times at least.
At the first ploughing, lay your land up in small ridges,
and let it remain so during the winter, for the frost to
mellow it; the second ploughing should be the begin¬
ning of February. In March split the ridges and lay
the land as flat as possible, at the same time harrowing
it fine. But in strong wet lands (if you have no other
for barley) lay it round, and make deep furrows to re¬
ceive the water.
“ I have often (continues he), taken the following
method with success : On lands tolerably manured, I
sowed clover with my barley, which I reaped at har¬
vest ; and fed the clover all the following winter, and
from spring to July, when I fallowed it till the follow¬
ing spring, and then sowed it with barley and clover as
before. Repeating this method every year, I had very
large crops, but would not recommend this practice on
poor light land.
“ We sow on our lightest lands in April, on our moist
lands in May ; finding that those lands which are the
most subject to weeds produce the best crops when
sown late.
“ The common method is to sow the barley seed
broad-cast at two sowings ; the first harrowed in once,
the second twice ; the usual allowance from three to
four bushels per acre. But if farmers could be pre¬
vailed on to alter this practice, they would soon find
their account in it. Were only half the quantity sown
equally, the produce would be greater, and the corn
less liable to lodge : For when corn stands very close,
the stalks are drawn up weak ; and on that account are
less capable of resisting the force of winds, or support¬
ing themselves under heavy rains.
“ From our great success in setting and drilling
wheat, some of our farmers tried these methods with
barley ; but did not find it answer their expectations,
except on very rich land.
Ron of bat
m.
Hivation
art I. A G R I C U
jiitme of il I have myself had So stalks on one root of barley,
L-tkular which all produced good and long ears, and the grain
';JantK- , was better than any other j but the method is too ex-
’~v pensive for general practice. In poor land, sow thin,
or your crop will be worth little. Farmers who do not
reason on the matter will be of a different opinion j but
the fact is indisputable.”
When the barley is sowed and harrowed in, he ad¬
vises that the land be rolled after the first shower of rain,
to break the clods. This will close the earth about
the roots, which will be a great advantage to it in dry
weather.
When the barley has been up three weeks or a
month, it is a very good way to roll it again with a
heavy roller’, which will prevent the sun and air from
penetrating the ground to the injury of the roots.
This rolling, before it branches out, will also cause it
to tiller into a greater number of stalks j so that if the
plants be thin, the ground will be thereby filled, and
the stalks strengthened.
If the blade grows too rank, as it sometimes will in
a warm wet spring, mowing is a much better method
than feeding it down with sheep j because the scythe
takes off only the rank tops, but the sheep being fond
of the sweet end of the stalk next the root, will often
bite so close as to injure its future growth.
The county of Norfolk, according to Mr Marshall,
barky is peculiarly adapted to the cultivation of this grain,
Norfolk, the strongest soil not being too heavy, and the lightest
being able to bear it j and so well versed are the Nor¬
folk farmers in the cultivation of it, that the barley
of this country is desired for seed throughout the whole
kingdom. It is here sown after wheat or turnips, and
in some very light lands, it is sown after the second
year’s ley. After wheat, the seed time of the latter
being finished, and the stubble trampled down with
bullocks, the land is ploughed with a shallow furrow
for a winter fallow for barley. In the beginning of
March the land is harrowed and cross-ploughed j or if
it be wet, the ridges are reversed. In April it receives
another ploughing lengthwise j and at seed time it is
harrowed, rolled, sowed, and the surface rendered as
smooth and level as possible. After turnips the soil is
broken up as fast as the turnips are taken off j if early
in winter by rice-balking, a practice already explain¬
ed but if late, by a plain ploughing. It is com¬
mon, if time will permit, to plough three times ; the first
shallow, the second full, and the third a mean depth ;
with which last the seed is ploughed in. Sometimes,
however, the ground is ploughed only once, and the
seed sown above, but more frequently by three plough-
ings, though, perhaps, the farmer has not above a
week to perform them in. After ley, the turf is ge¬
nerally broken by a winter fallow, and the soil treated
as after wheat.
This grain is seldom manured for, except when
sown after ley, when it is treated as wheat. No
manure is requisite after turnips or wheat, if the lat¬
ter has been manured for. If not, the turnip crop,
following immediately, the barley is left to take its
chance, unless the opportunity be embraced for winter
marling.
Little barley is sown by the Norfolk farmers be¬
fore the middle of April, and the seed time generally
L T U R E. 3;i9
continues till the middle of May : though this must in Culture of
A°im vrnie?3Ure• (*ePen^ 011 the season \ which, says particular
Air Marshall, is more attended to in Norfolk than per- Plants,
haps in all the world besides.” In the very backward
spnng of 1782, bailey was sown in June with success.
No preparation is used. It is all sown broadcast, and
almost all under furrow} that is, the surface having
been smoothed hy the harrow and roller, the seed is
sown and ploughed under with a shallow furrow ; hut if
the season he wet, and the soil cold and heavy, it is
sometimes sown above j but, il the spring he forward,
and the last piece of turnips eaten off late, the ground
is sometimes obliged to be ploughed only once, and to
be sown above j though in this case Mr Marshall thinks
it the most eligible management, instead of turning over
the whole thickness of the soil, to two-furrow it, and
sow between. This is done by only skimming the sur¬
face with the first plough, sowing the seed upon this,
and then covering it with the bottom furrow brought
up by the second plough. Three bushels are usually
sufficient for an acre.
The barley, as well as the wheat, in Norfolk, is al¬
lowed to stand till very ripe. It is universally mown
into swath, with a small how fixed at the heel of the
scythe. If it receive wet in the swath in this county,
it is not turned, but lifted; that is, the heads or ears
are raised from the ground, either with a fork or the
teeth of a rake, thereby admitting the air underneath
the swaths *, which will not fall down again to the
ground so close as before, so that the air has free ac¬
cess to the under side and this method of lifting is
supposed not to be interior to that of turning, which,
requires more labour, besides breaking and ruffling the
swaths.
In the Vale of Gloucester the quantity of barley cul-jn
tivated is very inconsiderable j the only species is the vale of
common long-eared barley, hordeum ‘Zeocriton. In this Gloucester,
county the grain we speak of is used, on the every
year’s lands, as a cleansing crop. It is sown very late,
viz. in the middle or end of May ; sometimes the be¬
ginning or even the middle of June. The reason of
this is, that the people of the Vale think, that if a week
or ten days of fine weather can be had for the opera¬
tion of harrowing out couch, and if after this a‘full
crop of barley succeed, especially if it should fortunate¬
ly take a reclining posture, the business of fallowing is
effectually done, insomuch that the soil is cleaned to a
sufficient degree to last for a number of years. A great
quantity of seed is made use of, viz. from three to
four bushels to an acre ; under the idea, that a full
crop of barley, especially if it lodge, smothers all kinds
of weeds, couch-grass itself not excepted. Our author
acknowledges this effect in some degree, but does not
recommend the practice. “ If the land (says he) be
tolerably clean, and the season favourable, a barley
fallow may no doubt be of essential service. But there
is not one year in five in which even land which is to¬
lerably clean can be sown in Reason, and at the same
time be much benefited by it for future crops.” The
barley in this county is all hand-<veeded. It is harvest¬
ed loose, mown with the naked scythe, lies in swath,
till the day of carrying, and is cocked with common
hay forks. The medium produce is three quarters per
acre. Its quality is preferable to that of the hill barley.
That
400
Culture of
particular
Plants.
245
In Cots-
■wold.
*47
In the nnd-
land di¬
strict.
AGRICULTURE.
Practice.
243
Culture of
barley difU
cull.
*49
In York¬
shire.
The common long-eared species is sown among the
Cotswold hills. It is sown in the latter end of March
and beginning of April, in the quantity of three bushels
to an acre, producing from 20 bushels to four quarters
to an acre 5 “ which, says our author, is a low produce.
It must be observed, however, that this produce is from
land deficient in tillage ; and that barley delights in a
fine pulverous tilth.”
In the midland district they cultivate two species of
barley, viz. the aseocr/Von or common long-eared, and
the distichon or sprat barley j the latter not being of
more than 50 years standing, but the former of much
older date. The sprat is the more hardy, and requires
to be more early sown j but the long ear yields the
better produce. It succeeds wheat and turnips; but
on the strong lands of this district, the crop after wheat
is much less productive, as well as less certain, than af¬
ter turnips ; which circumstance is likewise observed in
Norfolk. It is sometimes also sown with success upon
turf. When sown after wheat, the soil is winter fal¬
lowed by three ploughings } the first lengthwise in No¬
vember 5 the second across in March ; the last, which
is the seed-ploughing, lengthwise. Between the two
last ploughings the soil is harrowed, and the twitch sha¬
ken out with forks j after which it is left loose and
light to die upon the surface, without being either
burnt or carried off. After turnips the soil has com¬
monly three ploughings; the reason of which is, that
the turnips being commonly folded off with sheep, the
soil, naturally of a close texture, receives a still greater
degree of compactness, which it is proper to break
down, to render it porous. The seed time is the two
last weeks of April and the first of May 5 from two
bushels and a half to three bushels an acre, sometimes
even as much as four bushels: the produce very great,
sometimes as high as seven or even eight quarters an
acre j but the medium may be reckoned from four to
four and a half quarters. Mr Marshall remarks, that
the culture of barley is extremely difficult. “ Some¬
thing, says he, depends on the nature of the soil, much
on the preparation, much on the season of sowing, and
much on harvesting. Upon the whole, it may be deem¬
ed, of corn crops, the most difficult to be cultivated
with certainty.
In Yorkshire there are four kinds of barley culti¬
vated, viz. the %socrilon or long-eared ; the distichon
or sprat $ the vulgare, big, four-rowed or spring bar¬
ley ; and the hexastichon, six-rowed or spring barley.
The first and third sorts are principally cultivated; the
winter barley is as yet new to the district. Battledoor
barley was formerly very common, but is now almost
entirely disused. Mr Marshall observes, that less than
a century ago, barley was not saleable until it was malt¬
ed $ there were neither maltsters nor public houses, but
every farmer malted his own grain, or sold it to a
neighbour who had a malt kiln. Brakes cut from the
neighbouring commons were the fuel commonly used
upon this occasion} and a certain day for cutting them
was fixed, in order to prevent any one from taking more
than his share. The case is now totally reversed, even Culture of
public malt-houses being unknown, and the business of particular
malting entirely performed by maltsters, who buy the Plants,
barley from the farmer, and sell him what malt he may
want for his family.
To give some idea of the importance of this grain, Importance
we shall here state the amount of the revenue which of barley t9
the public draws from an acre of land when cultivated tlie icve-
for barley, independent altogether of the profits reaped
from it by the landlord and tenant. Supposing an
acre to produce eight bolls of barley, and the whole
to be made into ordinary small beer, the taxes paid by
it stand thus in 1802.
L. s.
8 bolls of barley made into malt, allowing
7 bushels per boll, at is. 7^’ Per bushel
of malt duty - - - 412
The whole may produce 40 barrels of small
beer, the duty upon each of which is
23. - , - 4 c
Borough impost, which is imposed in Scot¬
land, but not in England, at is. 3d. per
barrel - - - - 2 10
d.
L. 11
Buck-Wheat,
The uses of this plant have already been suffici- Culture si
ently noticed. It delights in a mellow sandy soil ; butbuch-
succeeds well in any dry loose healthy land, and mo-"beat,
derately so in a free loamy stone brash. A stiff clay
is its aversion, and it is entirely labour lost to sow
it in wet poachy ground. The proper season for sow¬
ing is from the last week of May or the beginning of
June. It has been sown, however, so early as the be¬
ginning of April, and so late as the 22d of July, by
way of experiment; but the latter was rather extreme
to be chosen, and the former was in danger from frost.
In an experiment upon a small piece of ground, the
grain of two different crops was brought to maturity
in the summer 1787.—After spring feedings, a crop
of turnip-rooted cabbage, or vetches, there will be suf¬
ficient time to sow the land with buck-wheat. Pro¬
bably, in hot dry summers, a crop of vetches might even
be mown for hay early enough to introduce a crop of
this grain after it.
In the year 17801 about seven acres of a sandy soil
on Brislington common (f), having been first tolerably
wTell cleansed from brambles, furze, &c. received one
ploughing. To reduce the irregularities of the surface,
it was rolled ; and on the 9th of June in that year,
two bushels and a half of buck-wheat per acre sown,
this ground rolled again without harrowing. 2^2
The vegetation appeared in five or six days, as is Albania,
constantly the case, be the weather wet or dry. The ges of this
growth was so rapid, that the fern with which this croPP1I1S
land greatly abounded, was completely kept under.
About the middle of September the crop was mown;
but
(f) A very rough piece of land at that time just enclosed.
’art I.
AGRICULTURE.
alttiie of kut by reason of a great deal of rain about that time,
articular It was not secured until the beginning of October}
Plants, hence a loss of a great part of the grain by shedding,
’”"v as well as some eaten by birds. However, there were
saved about 24 Winchester bushels per acre ; and, not¬
withstanding its long exposure to the weather, received
no sort of damage, only perhaps that the finest and most
perfect grain was the first to fall from the plant. The
ground after this had almost the appearance of a fallow,
and was immediately ploughed.
When it had lain a moderate time to meliorate, and
to x'eceive the influences of the atmosphere, it was har¬
rowed, sown with Lammas wheat, and ploughed in
under furrow, in a contrary direction to the first
ploughing. Thus a piece of land, which in the
month of April was altogether in a state of nature, in
the following November was seen under a promising
crop of what is well styled the king of grain, and this
without the aid ol manure, or of any very great degree
of tillage. Nor was the harvest by any means defi¬
cient ; for several persons conversant in such things
estimated the produce from 26 to 30 bushels per acre.
As soon as the wheat crop was taken off, the ground
had one ploughing, and on the first of September fol¬
lowing was sown with turnip seed. The turnips were
not large, but of an herbage so abundant, as in the fol¬
lowing spring to support 120 ewes with their lambs,
which were fed on it by folding four xveeks. After
this it was manured with a composition of rotten dung
and natural earth, about 20 putt loads per acre, and
planted with potatoes. The crop sold for 1381. be¬
sides a considerable number used in the family, and a
quantity reserved with which ten acres were planted
the following season. The ensuing autumn it was again
sown with wheat, and produced an excellent crop. In
the spring of 1784, it was manured and planted with
potatoes, as in the preceding instance ; the crop,
(though tolerably good) by no means equal to the for¬
mer, producing about 100 sacks per acre only. In
spring 1785, the land was now for a third time under
a crop of wheat, it being intended to try how far this
mode of alternate cropping, one year with potatoes and
another with wheat, may be carried.
From the success of the preceding and other experi¬
ments, by Nehemiah Bartley, Fsq. of Bristol, as de¬
tailed in the Bath Society Papers, it would seem, that
the culture of this plant ought in many cases to be
adopted instead ‘of a summer fallowing : for the crop
produced appears not only to be so much clear gain in
respect to such practice, but also affords a considerable
quantity of straw for fodder and manure.
bolls each acre:
reach above
153
iturc of
is*.
5. Pease.
Pease are of two kinds ; the white and the gray.
I he cultivation of the latter only belongs to this place.
There are two species of the gray kind, distinguished
by their time of ripening. One ripens soon, and for
that reason is termed hot seed: the other, which is
slower in ripening, is termed cold seed.
Pease, a leguminous crop, is proper to intervene be¬
tween two culmiferous crops j less for the profit of a
pease crop than for meliorating the ground. Pease,
however, in a dry season, will produce six or seven
Vol. I. Part II. f
7 but, in an ordinary season, they seldom
two, or two and a half. Hence, in a
moist climate, which all the west of Britain is, x-ed
clover seems a more beneficial crop than pease.
A field intended for cold seed ought to be ploughed
in October or November; and in February, as soon as
the ground is dry, the seed ought to be sown on the
winter furrow. A field intended for hot seed ought to
be ploughed in March or April, immediately before
sowing. But if infested with weeds, it ought to be al¬
so ploughed in October or November.
Pease laid a foot below the surface will vegetate ; but
the most approved depth is six inches in light soil, and
four inches in clay soil; for which reason, they ought
to be sown under furrow when the ploughing is delay¬
ed till spring. Of all grain, beans excepted, they arc
the least in danger of being buried.
Pease differ from beans, in loving a dry soil and a
dry season. Horse-hoeing w’ould be a great benefit,
could it be performed to any advantage; but pease
grow expeditiously, and soon fall over and cover the
ground, which bars ploughing. Horse-hoeing has little
effect when the plants are new sprung; and when they
are advanced to be benefited by that culture, their
length prevents it. Fast growing at the same time is
the cause of their carrying so little seed: the seed is
buried among the leaves; and the sun cannot penetrate
to make it grow and ripen. The only practicable re¬
medy to obtain grain, is thin sowing; but thick sowing
produces more straw and mellows the ground more.
Halt a boll for an English acre may be reckoned thin
sowing ; three firlots thick sowing.
Notwithstanding what is said above, Mr Hunter, a
noted farmer in Berwickshire, began some time ago to
sow all his pease in drills; and never failed to have great
crops of corn as well as of straw. He sowed double
rows at a foot interval, and two feet and a half be¬
tween the double rows, which admit horse-hoeing. By
that method, he had also good crops of beans on light
land.
Pease and beans mixed are often sown together, in
order to catch different seasons. In a moist season, the
beans make a good crop; in a dry season, the pease.
The growth of plants is commonly checked by
drought in the month of July ; but promoted by rain
in August. In July, grass is parched ; in August, it
recovers verdure. Where pease are so far advanced in
the dry season as that the seed begins to form, their
growth is indeed checked, but the seed continues to fill.
If only in the blossom at that season, their growth is
checked a little; but they become vigorous again in
August, and continued growing without filling till stop¬
ped by frost. Hence it is, that cold seed, which is
early sown, has the best chance to produce corn : hot
seed, which is late sown, has the best chance to produce
straw.
The following method is practised in Norfolk, for
sowing pease upon a dry light soil, immediately opened
from pasture. The ground is pared with a plough ex¬
tremely thin, and every sod is laid exactly on its back.
In every sod a double row of holes is made. A pea
dropt in every hole lodges in the flayed ground imme¬
diately below the sod, thrusts its roots horizontally, and
has sufficient moisture. This method enabled Norfolk
3 E farmers,
401
Culture of
particular
Plant!-.
402
Culture of
particular
Plants.
254.
On setting
pease in
4rilis.
AGRICULTURE.
Practice.
Pease roust
not be
sown too
often on
the same
spot.
256
Mr Mar¬
shall’s ob¬
servations.
farmers, in the barren year 1740, td furnish white
pease at 12s. per boll.
In the Bath Papers, vol. i. p. 148. we have an ac¬
count of the success of an experiment by Mr Pavier
near Taunton, on sowing pease in dtills. The scale
on which this experiment was made, however, being
so small, it would perhaps be rash to infer from it
what might be the event of planting a large piece
of ground in the same manner. The space was only
j6 square yards, but the produce so great, that by cal¬
culating from it, a statute acre would yield 600, or at
the least 500 pecks of green pease at the first gather¬
ing *, which, at the high price they bore at that time in
the country about Taunton, viz. l6d. per peck, would
have amounted to 33I. 6s. 8d. On this the society ob¬
serve, that though they doubt not the truth of the cal¬
culation, they are of opinion, that such a quantity as
(joo or 600 pecks of green pease would immediately re¬
duce the price in any country market. “ If the above-
mentioned crop (say they) were sold only at pd. per
peck, the farmer would be well paid for his trouble.” In
a letter on the drill husbandry by Mr Whitmore, for
which the thanks of the society Were returned, he in¬
forms us, that drilled pease must not be sown too thin,
or they will always be foul: and in an experiment of
this kind, notwithstanding careful hoeing, they turned
out so foul, that the produce was only eight bushels to
the acre.— From an experiment related in the 5th vo¬
lume of the same work, it appears that pease, hovyever
meliorating they may he to the ground at first, will at
the last totally exhaust it, at least with regard to them¬
selves. In this experiment they were sown on the same
spot for ten years running. After the first two years
the crop became gradually less and less, until at last the
seed would not vegetate, but became putrid. Straw¬
berries were then planted without any manure, and
yielded an excellent crop.
On the Norfolk culture of pease, Mr Marshall makes
two observations. “ Leys are seldom ploughed more
than once for pease; and the seed is in general dibbled
in upon the flag of this one ploughing. But stubbles
are in general broken by a winter-fallow of three or
four ploughings *, the seed being sown broad-cast and
ploughed in about three inches deep with the last
ploughing.”—In the Vale of Gloucester they are plant¬
ed by women, and hoed by women and children, once,
twice, and sometimes thrice •, which gives the crop,
when the soil is sufficiently free from root-weeds, the
appearance of a garden in the summer time, and pro¬
duces a plentiful crop in harvest. The distance be¬
tween the rows varies from 10 to 14 inches, but 12 may
he considered as the medium *, the distance in the rows
two inches. In the Cheltenham quarter of the district,
they set the pease not in continued lines, but in clumps $
making the holes eight or ten inches distant from one
another, putting a number of pease into each hole.
Thus the hoe has undoubtedly greater freedom ; all the
disadvantage is, that in this case the soil is not so even¬
ly and fully occupied by the roots as when they are dis¬
posed in continued lines.—In Yorkshire it is common
to sow beans and gray pease together, under the name
of blendings ; and sometimes fitches (probably, says Mr
Marshall, a gigantic variety of the ervum lens) are
sown among beans. Such mixtures are found to aug-
3.
ment the crop, and the different species are easily se- Culture of
narated by the sieve. particular
1 J „ Plants.
6. Beans. 1—
The properest soil for beans is a moist and deep clay,
but they may also be raised upon all heavy soils. They
are cultivated in two w'ays, either in the old way by
broad-cast, or, according to the more recent practice,
they are drilled in distinct rows. Of each of these we
shall give a very short account.
When the mode of cultivating beans by broad-cast Culture of
is adopted, it is to be observed, that as this grain is early beans by
sown, the ground intended for it should be ploughedbl’oail cast'
before winter, to give access to the frost and air $ be¬
neficial in all soils, and necessary in a clay soil. Take
the first opportunity after January, when the ground is
dry, to loosen the soil with the harrow first desc ribed,
till a mould be brought upon it. Sow the seed, and
cover it with the second harrow. The third will smooth
the surface, and cover the seed equally. These bar-
rows make the very best figure in sowing beans : which
ought to be laid deep in the ground, not less than six
inches. In clay soil, the common harrows are altoge¬
ther insufficient. The soil, which has rested long after
ploughing, is rendered compact and solid : the common
harrows skim the surface : the seed is not covered j and
the first hearty shower of rain lays it above ground.
Where the farmer overtakes not the ploughing after
harvest, and is reduced to plough immediately before
sowing, the plough answers the purpose of the first har¬
row ; and the other two will complete the work. But
the labour of the first harrow is ill saved j as the plough¬
ing before winter is a fine preparation, not only for
beans, but for grain of every kind. If the ground
ploughed before winter happen by superfluity of mois¬
ture to cake, the first harrow going along the ridges,
and crossing them, will loosen the surface, and give ac¬
cess to the air for drying. As soon as the ground is
dry, sow without delaying a moment. If rain happen
in the interim, there is no remedy but patience till a
dry day or two come.
Carse clay, ploughed before winter, seldom fails to
cake. Upon that account, a second ploughing is ne¬
cessary before sowing: which ought to he performed
with an ebb furrow, in order to keep the frost-mould
as near the surface as possible. To cover the seed with
the plough is, with regard to this as well as other grain,
expressed by the phrase to sow under furrow. The
clods raised in this ploughing are a sort of a shelter to
the young plants in the chilly spring months.
The foregoing method will answer for loam. And
as for a sandy or gravelly soil, it is altogether improper
for beans. ^5
Previous to the year 1770, beans were seldom sown culture of
in Scotland, unless upon the very rich clays; but since beans in
that time, by adopting the plan of raising them in drill*,
drills, or distinct rows, they have been successfully cul¬
tivated upon all the heavy loams, and in many farms
they now constitute a regular branch of rotation. With
very few exceptions, beans are constantly drilled at in¬
tervals of from 20 to 27 inches. Of these modes, the
last is the most prevalent, because it admits the ground
to be ploughed with ahorse, in the most sufficient man¬
ner. Very little hand-hoeing is given ; nor is it requir¬
ed,
Hants.
art I. A G B I C U
ultme of tlie kind of land winch is best adapted for their
articular growth, and upon which they are commonly sown, has
j not naturally a tendency to the production of annual
weeds, and fine crops of wheat generally follow, pro¬
vided due attention has been given to working the
bean crop. rI he necessity of summer fallow, which the
present high price of labour, and the loss of a year’s
crop, render an expensive affair to the farmer, is con¬
sequently much lessened : for if land is once thoroughly
cleaned, and afterwards kept in an alternate course of
leguminous and culmiferous crops, it will remain in good
Order for a considerable number of years.
As beans delight in a moist soil, and have no end of
growing in a moist season, they cover the ground to¬
tally when sown broad-cast, keep in the dew, and ex¬
clude the sun and air : the plants grow to a great
height; but carry little seed, and that little not well
ripened. This displays the advantage of drilling j which
gives free access to the sun and air, dries the ground,
and affords plenty of ripe seed.
L T U R E.
403
*59
e not
snan-
il
II. Plants Cultivated for Roots.
1. Potatoes.
These, next to the different kinds of grain, may be
looked upon as the crop most generally useful for the
husbandman ; affording not only a most excellent food
for cattle, but for the human species also; and they are
perhaps the only substitute that could be used for bread
with any probability of success. In the answer by Dr
yudicial Tissot to M. Linguet already mentioned, the former
objects to the constant use of them as food ; not because
they are pernicious to the body, but because they hurt
the faculties of the mind. He owns, that those who
eat maize, potatoes, or even millet, may grow tall and
acquire a large size j but doubts if any such ever pro¬
duced a literary work of merit. It does not, however,
by any means appear, that the very general use of po¬
tatoes in our own country has at all impaired either the
health of body or vigour of mind of its inhabitants.
The question then, as they have already been shown to
he an excellent food for cattle, comes to be merely
with regard to the profit of cultivating them ; and this
seems already to be so well determined by innumerable
experiments, as well as by the general practice of the
country, that no room appears left for doubt.
The choice of soil is not ol greater importance in
any other plant than in a potato. This plant in clay
soil, or in rank black loam lying low without ventila¬
tion, never makes palatable food. In a gravelly or
sandy soil, exposed to the sun and free air, it thrives to
perfection, and has a good relish. But a rank black
loam, though improper to raise potatoes for the table,
produces them in great plenty ; and the product is, as
already observed, a palatable food for horned cattle,
hogs, and poultry.
The spade is a proper instrument for raising a small
quantity, or for preparing corners or other places inac¬
cessible to the plough ; but for raising potatoes in quan¬
tities, the plough is the only instrument.
As two great advantages of a drilled crop are, to
destroy weeds, and to have a fallow at the same time
with the crop, no judicious farmer will think of raising
potatoes in any other way. In September or October,
t6o
neral
Ure.
as soon as that year’s crop is removed, let the field have Culture of
a rousing furrow, a cross-braking next, and then be particular
cleared of weeds by the cleaning harrow. Form it in- Plants-
to three-feet ridges, in that state to lie till April, which v”
is the proper time for planting potatoes. Then lay
well digested horse-dung along the furrows, upon which
lay the roots at eight inches distance. Cover up these
roots with the plough, going once round every row.
This makes a warm bed for the potatoes 5 hot dung be¬
low, and a loose covering above, that admits every ray
of the sun. As soon as the plants appear above ground,
go round every row a second time with the plough,
which will lay upon the plants an additional inch or
two of mould, and at the same time bury all the an¬
nuals j and this will complete the ploughing of the
ridges. W hen the potatoes are six inches high, the
plough, with the deepest furrow, must go twice along
the middle of each interval in opposite directions, lay¬
ing earth first to one row, and next to the other. And
to perform this work, a plough with a double moul’d-
fioard will be mox-e expeditious. But as the earth
pannot be laid close to the roots by the plough, the
ppade must succeed, with which four inches of the
plants must be covered, leaving little more but the tops
p,bove ground $ and this operation will at the same time
bury all the weeds that have sprung since the former
ploughing. What weeds arise after must be pulled up
with the hand.
In the Bath Society Papers, we have the following Particular
practical observations on the culture and use of pota- methods,
toes, given as the result of various experiments made
for five years successively on that valuable root, the
growth of which cannot be too much encouraged.
When the potato crop has been the only object in
view, the following method is the most eligible.
The land being well pulverized by two or three good
harrowings and ploughings, is then manured with 15
or 20 cart loads of dung per acre, before it receives its
last earth. Then it is thrown into what the Suffolk
farmers call the trench balk, which is narrow and deep
ridge-work, about 15 inches from the centre of one
ridge to the centre of the other. Women and children
drop the sets in the bottom of every furrow 15 inches
apart $ men follow and cover them with large hoes, a
foot in width, pulling the mould down so as to bury the
sets five inches deep j they must receive two or three
hand-hoeings, and be kept free from weeds j always
observing to draw the earth as much as possible to the
stems of the young plants. By repeated trials, the first
or second week in April is found the most advantageous
time for planting.
In the end of September or the beginning of Octo¬
ber, when the haulm becomes withered, they should be
ploughed up with a strong double-breasted plough.
The workman must be cautioned to set his plough very
deep, that he may strike below all the potatoes, to a-
void damaging the crop. The women who pick them
up, if not carefully attended to, will leave many in the
ground, which will prove detrimental to any succeeding
corn, whether wheat or barley. To avoid which in¬
convenience, let the land be harrowed, and turn the
swine in to glean the few that may he left by their ne¬
gligence.
By this method, the sets will be 15 square inches
3 E 2 from
4°4
AGRICULTURE.
Practice,
culture of from each other; it will take 18 bushels to plant an
particular acre ; and the produce, if on a good mixed loamy soil,
Plants. wjji amount to 300 bushels.
 ' If the potatoes are grown as a preparation for wheat,
it is preferable to have the rows two feet two inches
from each other, hand-hoeing only the space from plant
to plant in each row ; then turning a small furrow from
the inside of each row by a common light plough, and
afterwards, with a double-breasted plough with one
horse, split the ridge formed by the first ploughing
thoroughly to clean the intervals. T. his work should
not be done too deep the first time, to avoid burying
the tender plants ; but the last earth should be plough¬
ed as deep as possible ; and the closer the mould is
thrown to the stems of the plants, the more advanta¬
geous it will prove. rI hus 13 bushels will plant an acre,
and the produce will be about 3^® bushels ; but the
land, by the summer ploughings, will be prepared to
receive seed wheat immediately, and almost ensure a
162 plentiful crop.
To prevent 'fhe potato sets should be cut a week before plant-
tbe grub. one or tw0 eyes to each, and the pieces not
very small ; two bushels of fresh-slaked lime should be
sown over the surface of the land as soon as planted,
which will effectually prevent the attacks of the grub.
The expence attending an acre of potatoes well cul¬
tivated in the first method, supposing the rent 20 shil¬
lings, tithe and town charges rather high (as in Suf¬
folk), taking up, and every thing included, will be a-
bout six pounds. In the last method, it would be some¬
what reduced.
“ When predilections for old customs are subdued
(adds the author), I hope to see the potato admitted in
the constant course of crops by every spirited husband¬
man. The most beneficial effects will, I am certain,
accrue from such a system. Tl he advantages in my
neighbourhood are apparent ; I cultivated and fed my
own children upon them, and my poorer neighbours
sensibly followed the example. A great proportion of
every cottager’s garden is now occupied by this root,
and it forms a principal part of their diet. Potatoes
are cheap and excellent substitutes for pease in soups
and broths, allowing double the quantity.
A cheap “ Although it is nearly a transcript of the directions
preparation given by a very ingenious author, yet 1 shall take the
for the liberty of inserting a receipt for making a potato-soup,
poor. which I have weekly distributed among the poor to
their great relief.
s. d.
An ox’s head
Two pecks of potatoes
Quarter of a peck of onions
Three quarters of a pound of salt
An ounce and a half of pepper
Total
3 10
Ninety pints of water to be boiled with the above in¬
gredients on a slow fire until reduced to 60, which re¬
quires one peck of coals, value threepence. I have ad¬
ded the expence of every article, according to their
prices with me, that gentlemen may clearly perceive at
how easy a rate they can feed 60 of their poor neigh¬
bours. I find from experience, a pint of this soup, with
a small piece of the meat, is sufficient to satisfy a hear-
2
ty working man with a good meal. If vegetables are Culture of
ulentiful, some of every sort may be added, with a few particular
" i 1 Plants.
sweet herbs. ■
“ I hope my inserting the above will not be esteem- ’
ed improper ; though somewhat deviating from the cul¬
ture of potatoes, it may possibly be a means of render¬
ing them more extensively useful.”
A premium having been offered by the above-men¬
tioned society for the cultivation of potatoes by far¬
mers, &.c. whose rent does not exceed 40I. per annum,
the following methods were communicated, by which
those who have only a small spot of ground may obtain
a plentiful crop. < 264
First, then, the earth should be dug 12 inches deep, Methods rf
if the soil will allow of it; after this, a hole should be cultivating
opened about six inches deep, horse dung or. lonS
ter should be put therein about three inches thick ; this p
hole should not be more than 12 inches in diameter;
upon this dung or litter a potato should be planted
whole, upon which a little more dung should be cast,
and then earth must be put thereon. In like manner
the whole plot of ground must be planted, taking care
that each potato be at least 16 inches apart ; and when
the young shoots make their appearance, they should
have fresh mould drawn round them with a hoe; and
if the tender shoots are covered, it will prevent the
frost from injuring them : they should again be earth¬
ed when the shoots make a second appearance, but not
be covered, as in all probability the season will then
be less severe. A plentiful supply of mould should be
given them, and the person who performs this business
should never tread upon the plant, or the hillock that
is raised round it ; as the lighter the earth is, the more
room the potato will have to expand. From a single
root thus planted, very near 40 pounds weight of large
potatoes were obtained, and from almost every other
root upon the same plot of ground from IJ to 20
pounds weight; and except the soil be stony or gra¬
velly, 10 pounds or half a peck of potatoes may almost
always be obtained from each root, by pursuing the
foregoing method. But note, cuttings or small sets
will not do for this purpose. 26;
The second method will suit the indolent, or those Methods 0:
who have not time to dig their ground ; and that is, cultare a-
where weeds much abound and have not been c^ea>re(^1^ifarKi
in the winter, a trench may be opened in a straight
line the whole length of the ground, and about 6 inches
deep: in this trench the potatoes should be planted
about ten inches apart; cuttings or small potatoes will
do for this method. When they are laid in the trench,
the wTeeds that are on the surface may be pared off on
each side about ten inches from it, and be turned upon
the plants ; another trench should then be dug, and the
mould that comes out of it turned carefully on the >
weeds. It must not be forgot, that each trench should
be regularly dug, that the potatoes may be through¬
out the plot 10 or 12 inches from each other. They
should be twice hoed, and earthed up in rows. And here
note, that if cut potatoes are to be planted, every cut¬
ting should have two eyes, for though fewer sets will be
obtained, there will be a greater certainty of a crop, as
one eye often fails or is destroyed by grubs in the earth.
Where a crop of potatoes fails in part (as will some¬
times be the case in a dry season), amends may still be
made by laying a little dung upon the knots of the
straw
'art I.
nlture of straw or haulm of those potatoes that do appear, and
articular covering them with mould : each knot or joint thus
Plants, ordered will, if the weather prove wet afterwards, pro-
T f duce more potatoes than the original roots.
irom the smallest potatoes planted whole, from four
to six pounds at a root were obtained, and some of the
single potatoes weighed near two pounds. These were
dug in as before mentioned, in trenches where the
ground was covered with weeds, and the soil was a stiff
loamy clay.
A good crop may be obtained by laying potatoes
upon turf at about 12 or 14 inches apart, and upon
beds of about six feet wide j on each side of which a
trench should be opened about three feet wide, and the
turf that comes from thence should be laid with the
grassy side downwards upon the potatoes ; a spit of
mould should next be taken from the trenches, and be
spread over the turf; and in like manner the whole plot
of ground that is designed to be planted must be treat¬
ed. And remark, that when the young shoots appear,
another spit of mould from the trenches should be
strewed over the beds so as to cover the shoots; this will
prevent the frost from injuring them, encourage them
to expand, and totally destroy the young weeds ; and
when the potatoes are taken up in the autumn, a care¬
ful person may turn the earth again into the trenches,
so as to make the surface level: and it will be right to
remark, that from the same ground a much better crop
of potatoes may be obtained the following year.
For field planting, a good (if not the best) method
is to dung the land, which should be once ploughed
previous thereto ; and when it is ploughed a second
time, a careful person should drop the potato plants be¬
fore the plough in every third furrow at about eight or
ten inches apart. Plants that are cut with two eyes are
best for this purpose. The reason for planting them at
so great a distance as every third furrow, is, that when
the shoots appear, a horse-hoe may go upon the two
vacant furrows to keep them clean; and after they are
thus hoed, they should be moulded up in ridges; and if
this crop be taken up about October or November, the
land will be in excellent condition to receive a crop of
wheat. Lands that are full of twitch or couch-grass
may be made clean by this method, as the horse-hoeing
is as good as a summer fallow ; and if, when the pota¬
toes are taken up, women and children were to pick
out such filth, not any traces of it would remain ; and
by laying it on heaps and burning it, a quantity of ashes
would be produced for manure.
After ploughing, none should ever dibble in pota^-
toes, as the persons who dibble, plant, or hoe them,
will all tread the ground ; by which means it will be¬
come so bound, that the young fibres cannot expand,
as has been already observed. Good crops have in¬
deed been obtained by ploughing the land twice, and
dropping the plants in every other furrow, and by
hand-hoeing and earthing them up afterwards as the
gardeners do pease ; but this method is not equal to
the other.
Vacant places in hedge-rows might be grubbed and
planted with potatoes, and a good crop might be ex>-
pected, as the leaves of trees, thorns, &c. are a good
manure, and will surprisingly encourage their growth,
and gratify the wishes of the planter; who by cultivat¬
ing such places, will then make the most of his ground,
AGRICULTUBE. 4C5
and it will be in fine order to receive a crop of corn Culture of
the following year.
partictthw
Plants.
Account of the culture, expences, and produce of six ~f,) *
acres of potatoes, being a fair part of near seventy Method of
acres, raised by John Billingsley, Esq. and for which culture, &e.
the premium was granted him in the year 1784. for 'vhicI* *
„ ' ' premium
t-, . Expences. was grant-
Ploughing an out stubble in October 1783, ed,
at 4s. per acre - . ' L.i 4 o
Cross-ploughing in March 1784 - 140
Harrowing, 2s. per acre - - . o 12 o
180 cart "loads of compost, 3!. per acre 18 o o
42 sacks of seed-potatoes (each sack weigh¬
ing 2401b.) of the white sort - 10 10 o
Cutting the sets, 6d. per sack - 1 1 o
Setting on ridges eight feet wide, (leaving an
interval of two feet for an alley) 6d for
every 20 yards - - . 10 12 o
Hoeing at 5s. per acre - - 1 10 o-
■D(gg*ng up the two feet interval, and throw¬
ing the earth on the plants, at 10s. per acre 300
D‘gging_ up the crop at 8d. for every 20
yards in length, the breadth being 8 feet 14 6 o
Labour and expence of securing in pits, wear
and tear of baskets, straw, reed, spikes,
&c. 1 os. per acre - - - 30c
 600
Tithe
1 10
Profit
72 9
73 11
L.146
Produce.
600 sacks of best potatoes at 4s. L.120 o o
120 sacks middle-sized, 3s. 6d. - 2100
50 of small, 2s. - - -500
N. B. Each sack 2401b. -
L.146 o o
The field on which the above experiment was made,
was an out-stubble in the autumn of 1783. In Octo¬
ber it was ploughed, and left in a rough state during
the winter. In April it was cross-ploughed and har¬
rowed. On the 8th of May the field was marked out
into beds or ridges eight feet wide, leaving a space of
two feet wide for an alley between every two ridges.
The manure (a compost of stable dung, virgin earth,
and scrapings of a turnpike road) was then brought on
the land, and deposited in small heaps on the centre of
each ridge, in the proportion of about thirty cart-loads
to each acre. A trench was then opened with a spade,
breadth-way of the ridge, about four inches deep; in
this trench the potato sets were placed, at the distance
of nine inches from each other ; the dung was then
spread in a trench on the sets, and a space or split of 14
inches in breadth dug in upon them. When the plants
were about six inches high, they were carefully hoed,
and soon after the. two feet intervals between the ridges
were dug, and the contents thrown around the young
plants. This refreshment, added to the ample manu-
1’ing previously bestowed, produced such a luxuriance
and rapidity of growth, that no weed could show its
head.
TU
406
AGRICULTURE,
?6S
Of preserv¬
ing them.
Culture of The shortest and most certain method of taking up
particular potatoes, is to plough once round every row at the di-
Plants. stance of four inches, removing the earth from the
* v~—1 plants, and gathering up with the hand all the potatoes
Best me- t*iat appear. The distance is made four inches, to pre-
thod oftak-vent cutting the roots, which are seldom found above
ing them that distance from the row on each side. When the
UP* ground is thus cleared by the plough, raise the pota¬
toes with a fork having three broad toes or claws;
which is better than a spade, as it does not cut the po¬
tatoes. The potatoes thus laid above ground must be
gathered with the hand. By this method scarce a po¬
tato will be left.
As potatoes are a comfortable food for the common
people, it is of importance to have them all the year
round. For a long time, potatoes in Scotland were con¬
fined to the kitchen garden j and after they were planted
in the field, it was not imagined at first that they could
be used after the month of December. Of late years, they
have been found to answer even till midsummer-, which
has proved a great support to many a poor family, as
they are easily cooked, and require neither kiln nor
mill. But there is no cause for stopping there. It is
easy to preserve them till the next crop : When taken
out of the ground, lay in the corner of a barn a quan¬
tity that may serve till April, covered from frost with
dry straw pressed down : bury the remainder in a hole
dug in dry ground, mixed with the husks of dried oats,
sand, or the dry leaves of trees, over which build a
stack of hay or corn. When the pit is opened for
taking out the potatoes, the eyes of what have a ten¬
dency to push must be cut out j and this cargo will
serve all the month of June. To be still more certain
of making the old crop meet the new, the setting of a
small quantity may be delayed till June, to be taken
up at the ordinary time before frost. -This cargo, hav¬
ing not arrived at full growth, will not be so ready to
push as what are set in April.
If the old crop happen to be exhausted before the
new crop is ready, the interval may be supplied by the
potatoes of the new crop that lie next the surface, to
be picked up with the hand 5 which, far from hurting
the crop, will rather improve it.
In the Transactions of the Society for the encou¬
ragement of Arts, a number of experiments are related
by Mr Young on that kind called the clustered or hog
‘potato^ which he strongly recommends as food for the
poor in preference to the kidney or other more ex¬
pensive kinds. The following is the result of the most
2c;p remarkable of his experiments.
Mr Young’s In the first week of March 1780, two acres and a
expert- quarter of barley stubble were sown with the cluster
inents oa p0tat0) vvhieh appeared on the 23d of May. A sharp
steredTpo- ^rost on ^ie Jl,ne turned them as black as they
tato. usually are by the frosts of November and December.
In time, however, they recovered ; and by the end of
October produced 876 bushels from the acres;
which, when cleaned, were reduced to 780, or 350
bushels per acre -, thus affording, when only valued at
6d. per bushel, a clear profit of 7I. 14s. 4d. per acre.
The experiment, however, in his opinion, would have
been still more profitable, had it not been for the fol¬
lowing circumstances: 1. The soil was not altogether
proper. 2. The crop was grievously injured by the
frost already mentioned, which, in our author’s opi-
Practice,
nion, retarded the growth for about six weeks. 3. The Culture of
dung was not of his own raising, but purchased j which partieul»F
cannot but be supposed to make a great difference, not 1,lants-
only on account of the price, but likewise of the qua- 'rm~‘
lity, as happened to be the case at present. He is of
opinion, however, that potatoes, at least this kind of
them, are an exhausting crop. Having sown the field
after this large crop of potatoes with wheat, his neigh¬
bours were of opinion that it would be too rank ; but
so far was this from being the case, that the wheat
showed not the least sign of luxuriance, nor the least
superiority over the parts adjacent which were sown
without dung. He was willing to account for this by
the poverty of the dung, and the severe cropping
which the ground had undergone while in the posses¬
sion of the former tenant. In another experiment,
however, in which the ground had been likewise ex¬
hausted by severe cropping, the succeeding crop ol
wheat showed no luxui'iance } so that the former suspi¬
cion of the exhausting quality of the cluster potato was
rather confirmed. The ground was a fine turnip
loam j but though the produce was even greater than
in the former case, viz. 356 bushels from an acre, the
profit was much less, viz. only 4I. 15s. 6d.. An acre
of ley ground was sown at the same time with the tur¬
nip loam, but the produce from it was only 200
bushels. Mr Young supposes that the produce would
have been greater if the potatoes had been planted
with an iron dibble, as the turf, in ploughing, lay too
heavy upon the seed. A fews rows of other potatoes,
planted along with the clustered kind, did not vege¬
tate at all-, which shows that the latter have a more
powerful vegetative faculty.
Having succeeded so well with his experiments on
this kind of potato hitherto, Mr Young determined tomentg0Si
try the culture of them upon a larger scale, and there-a larger
fore, in the year 1782, sowed 11 acres : but being ob-scale.
liged to commit the care of sowing them to an ignorant
labourer, his unskilfulness, together with the excessive
cold and moisture of that season, so diminished the pro¬
duce, that he had only a single acre out of the whole.
This produced 180 bushels, which yielded of clear
profit 4I. 2s. 6d. From this experiment he draws the
following conclusions : I. “ That the poor loam, on
which these potatoes were sown, will yield a crop of
cluster-potatoes, though not of any other kind. 2. That
the manure for potatoes ought to be carted and spread
upon all soils inclinable to wet before the planting sea¬
son, either in autumn preceding, or else during a
hard frost.” In 1783 he succeeded still worse ; for ha¬
ving that year sown three acres and a half, the profit
did not exceed 1 is. 4d. per acre. The produce was about
224 bushels per acre. He gives two reasons for the
failure of this crop: 1. The clustered potato thrives
best in wet years ; but the summer of 1783 was dry
and hot. 2. The spring frost, by interrupting the
hoeing, not only greatly raised the expences, but ve¬
ry much injured the crop by encouraging the growth
of weeds. Barley was sown after the last crop, and
produced well: so that our author thinks the potatoes
seem to be a better preparation for spring corn than
wheat. His experiment in 1784 produced a clear
profit of 2I. os. 4cl.j the produce being 250 bushels
per acre. Still, however, an error was committed, by
employing an old man and woman to cut the sets, by
^ 7 * whose
272
Mar¬
il’s re-
•ks.
273
irt I. A G R I C U
ilture of whose uoskilfulness there were many great gaps among
irticuliir the potatoes as they came up *, so that, on the whole
t he reckons that he thus lost from 500 to 800 bushels.
On the whole, however, his opinion is favourable to
iclusion tl16 cluster potato. “ With small crops (says he),
ourable and at the low rate of value which is produced by con-
the cui- suming them at home, they are clearly proved to be a
kind0 Cr0P w^‘c^ Pay ^ie expence of manuring, and ve¬
ry ample tillage and hoeing. This is, after all, the
chief object of modern husbandry j for if a man can
rely upon this potato for the winter consumption for
his yard in fattening or keeping hogs, in feeding his
horses, and fattening his bullocks, he has made one of
the greatest acquisitions that can be desired ; since he
can do all this upon land much too stiff and wet for
turnips; houses his crops before the winter rains come
on ; and consequently without doing any of that inju¬
ry to his land which the turnip culture is known to en¬
tail, and from which even cabbages are not free.
Those who know the importance of winter food on a
turnip farm cannot but admit the magnitude of this
object on wet soils.”
Mr Marshall, in his Rural Economy of Yorkshire,
has several very interesting remarks on the potato. Its
varieties, he says, are endless and transitory. The
rough skinned Russian potato, which was long a favour¬
ite of the Yorkshire farmers, he is of opinion has now
no longer an existence, more than many others which
’ie curl ^ou,as^e^ f°r a “ There is some reason to be¬
lieve (says he) that the disease which has of late years
been latal to the potato crop in this and in other di¬
stricts, under the name of curled tops, has arisen
from too long a continuance of declining varieties. Re
this as it may, it appears to be an established opinion
here, t\v\t fresh varieties, raised from seed, are not liable
to that disease.” Our author, however, does not look
upon this to be a fact absolutely established : though
one instance fell under his observation, in which its
removal was in all probability owing to the introduc¬
tion of new varieties. It made its appearance between
40 and 50 years ago, and spread in some degree over
the whole kingdom. In some places it continued but
a short time, so that its effects are almost forgotten.
It is seldom obvious at the first coming up of the
plants ; hut attacks them as they increase in size; the
entire top becoming dwarfish and shrivelled as if affected
by drought or loaded with insects : they nevertheless
live, and increase, though slowly, in size j but the roots
are unproductive. Some crops have been almost wholly
destroyed by this disease. In Yorkshire the Morelands
are in a manner free from it, but the Vale is in some
measure infected. Plants procured from the More¬
lands remain free from it in the Vale the first year ;
hut, being continued, become liable to the disease.
Where the attack has been partial, weeding out the
diseased plants as they failed, is said to have had a
good effect ; and it is said the Morelanders got rid of
the disease by this means.
274 Ip Yorkshire some intelligent husbandmen are ac-
•'l hod of quainted with the method of raising potatoes from
,■ “2 va- see<i j which is as follows : “ In autumn when the
es iomapp]es are beginning to fall spontaneously, they are
gathered by hand, and preserved among sand until the
spring, when they are mashed among the sand or among
fresh mould 5 separating the seeds and mixing them
L T U R E. 407
evenly with the mould. As soon as the spring frosts Culture of
are judged to be over, they are sown in fine garden particular
mould ; and as fast as the plants get into rough leaf, Wants.
and are strong enough to be handled without injury,1 
they are transplanted into another bed of rich mould
in lows, which are kept clean during summer. In au¬
tumn, bunches of small potatoes are found at the roots
of these plants; varying in size, the first year, from a
lazel nut to that of a crab. These being planted next
spring, produce potatoes of the middle size j but
they do not arrive at their fullest bulk until the
third or fourth year. Where the use of the stove or
trie garden frame can be had, this process may be
shortened. The seeds being sown within either of
these early in the spring, the plants will be fit to
be planted out as soon as the frosts are gone; by
which means the size of the roots will be much in¬
creased the first year, and will in the second rise nearly
to perfection.” ’ J
Another account of the mode of raising potatoes
from seed is given by Mr Henry Dohy of Woodside
Chapel, Allerton, near Leeds. “ Take the largest ^0- Annals of
tato apples, of the kind you wish to renew, and string
them on a very sti’ong coarse thread, and hang them T<>I* xJx.
in a dry warm place till the latter end of February ;
when breaking them very small, and washing them iu
several waters, the seed is to be separated from the
fleshy part and skins ; this done, it should he spread on.
brown paper ; and, when dry, sow it in the beginning
of March, or sooner, on a hot-bed, in lines about nine
inches asunder, and one third of an inch deep, and very
thin : water between the lines frequently, and when the
plants are risen a little height, introduce fine rich earth
between the lines to strengthen them. They should
have air admitted frequently, the better to enable them
to bear being removed into the open air as soon as the
weather shall be sufficiently temperate. Before they
are transplanted, they should be plentifully watered, to
make them rise with a large ball at their roots ; old
rotten horse dung and yellow moss are the best ma-
plant them in trenches, as celery was formerly.
with a space of four feet between the trenches, and 12
or 14 inches between each plant; as they grow up,
draw the earth between the trenches to the stalks, but
do not cover their tops. The ground, when brought to
a level, should be dug, and the plants earthed until there
are pretty deep trenches formed between the lines.
V> ith this treatment they will produce the first season
from a pound weight to five pounds a plant; and many
of the plants considerably more than a hundred pota¬
toes a-piece ; the produce of which for ten or twelve
years after will be prodigious.”
In the 4th volume of the Bath papers, Dr Anderson Dr AmL
relates some experiments made on potatoes raised from son’s expe
seed. The first year they were of different sizes, from
a pigeon’s egg to that of a small pea. On planting
these next year, it was invariably found, that the lar¬
gest potatoes yielded the largest crop; and the same
happened the third, when a few showed blossom ; but
not even these had bulbs equal to what would have
been produced by very large potatoes. Whence he
concludes, that it is impossible to assign any time in
which these seedling potatoes will arrive at what is
called perfection; but that it must depend very much
on the nature of the soil and the culture bestowed up-
40$
•Culture of
.particular
Plants.
276
’Whether
potatoes de-
aenerate.
277
How to ob.
tain an ear
ly crop.
‘Farmer's
Magazine,
•rSoi.
A G R I C U
on them. From the practice of the Yorkshire far¬
mers, however, and even from the experiments of the
Doctor himself, it is evident, that potatoes raised in
this way will at last grow to the usual size, as during
the three years in which his experiments were conti¬
nued they constantly increased in bulk. Dr Ander¬
son likewise contends, that there is no reason for sup¬
posing that potatoes raised from bulbs in the ordinary
w'ay degenerate, or require to be renewed by seminal
varieties ; and he instances the universal practice of
Britain and Ireland for a great number of years past.
But this may be accounted for from an observation of
Mr Marshall’s, that varieties of potatoes, like those of
corn, are partial to particular soils and situations.
Hence, by transplanting all the different varieties of
potatoes into all possible soils and situations, as has been
done within this last century in the islands of Britain
and Ireland, these varieties have continued for a much
longer time than they would otherwise have done.
In Yorkshire, Mr Marshall tells us, that “ the old fa¬
vourite sorts were ^driven until some of the individual
plants barely produced their seed again.” It is evident,
therefore, that there is a necessity from time to time
of renewing them for seed 5 though it deserves well
to be considered whether it would not be more eligible
to choose the seed from a plant in full vigour than from
that which is so far degenerated that it can scarce pro¬
duce its seed. “ Potatoes raised from seed (says Mr
Marshall) are a miscellany of endless varieties. Some¬
times.these varieties are planted miscellaneously j some¬
times particular varieties are selected. In selecting
Varieties. from seedling potatoes, two things are to
be attended to 5 the intrinsic quality of the potato, and
its productiveness. If these two desirable properties
can be found in one plant, the choice is determined.
To this species of attention and industry we are indebt¬
ed for the many valuable kinds which have been and
now are distributed throughout the island. It is ob¬
servable, however, that varieties of potatoes, like
those of corn, are partial to particular soils and situa¬
tions. Hence the propriety of husbandmen raising po¬
tatoes from seed j as by this means, they obtain, with
a degree of moral certainty, a sort adapted tp their
own particular soils and situations. Whoever has at¬
tended closely to the work of taking up potatoes,
must have observed the great inequality in the produc¬
tiveness of individual plants. The difference in the
produce of adjoining roots, where no disparity of soil
can influence, will sometimes be three or four fold.
Hence it is evident, that each variety has its sub-va¬
rieties; through whose means, it ean hardly be doubted
the parent variety may be improved, and its continu¬
ance be prolonged. Thus the farmer has another mean
in his power of improving the quality and productive¬
ness of his potato crop, by improving varieties 5 or, in
other words, selecting sub-varieties, superiorly adapted
to his soil and situation.”
Sir Archibald Grant, Baronet, of Monymusk, in a
letter to the conductors of the Farmer’s Magazine, has
recently made known a mode practised by him with a
view to the saving of seed, and the obtaining an early
crop of potatoes. ‘ “ In spring 1800, (says that gentle¬
man), from a scarcity of seed, I followed a method
sometimes used by gardeners, tor forcing early potatoes,
.pease, and beans, viz. that of planting them out upon a
L T U R E.
Practice.
small dunghill, in order to make them come sooner Culture of
forward, and afterwards transplanting them into the particular
ground. This I did, after they had upon the dunghill i’buits.
risen to be good plants, and the leaves about an inch —
long. The dunghill was about three feet broad and 18
inches high, with from 2 to 3 incites of earth upon
the top of it, and as long as held about a peck and three
quarters of a peck of Aberdeenshire measure (or 32IIJ.
Dutch to the peck) of small potatoes, cut into sets,
stuck as close to each other as possible in the row’s, and
each row about two inches asunder. On the 17th of
April, thev were put upon the dunghill j on the 2d of
May they were in leaf 5 and on the 14th and 15th of
May were planted out into the field \ each plant 3 feet
asunder each way. On the I2th June, they were earth¬
ed with the plough, and were afterwards dressed in
the ordinary method. On the 1st Monday of October,
being taken up, they produced from 14 to 16 bolls
Aberdeen measure. In June I observed, that potatoes
which had been planted in the ordinary way in other
parts of the parish, in the middle of April, were scarcely
appearing above ground when these were so high as
to require being earthed up with the plough \ so that
six weeks were gained in growth by this method.” 27s
During the late great dearth of all kinds of provisions, Potatoes
a plan was adopted with a view to save for food a part P'^tedj>7
of the potatoes used as seed, which, consisted of not
cutting them into pieces with one or more eyes in each eves.
piece, as usual, but of slightly scooping out the eyes,
which in that state were planted while .the greater part
of the potato was preserved for the use of man or cattle.
This mode of planting potatoes was successful with a
great number of persons ; but in some instances, where
the ground was not in an excellent state of preparation,
the crop is understood to have been more defective
than when the usual mode was adopted of cutting off
large pieces of the potato along with the eye. The
point, however, about the utility of this mode of prac¬
tice must still be considered as doubtful or worthy of
farther investigation. We are rather disposed to think
that the practice of slightly scooping out the eye will
not ultimately prove beneficial, because in ordinary’
cases the plant will be left destitute of due nourishment
from the parent root at too early a period of its growth,
and before it is completely capable of deriving its sub¬
sistence from the soil around it j in the same manner,
and for the same reason, that light seed is apt to pro¬
duce a light crop of grain. This objection may not
indeed hold good with regard to potatoes planted on a
very fine soil, or upon a hot-bed, for transplanting after
the manner adopted by Sir Archibald Grant above
mentioned. But on poor lands, where the strength of
the young plants is more severely tried, any defect in
the size of the root planted will probably always be
productive of bad effects,
2. Turnip.
275
Turnip delights in a gravelly soil j and there it can Culture ^
he raised to the greatest perfection, and with the least turnip-
hazard of miscarrying. At the same time, there is no
soil but will bear turnip when well prepared.
No person ever deserved better of a country, than he
who first cultivated turnip in the field. No plant is bet¬
ter fitted for the climate of Britain, no plant prosper*
better
Part I.
, I’uHtire of
particular
Plants
jSo
>eason»
iad me-
bod of
sivinj.
better in tne coldest part of it, and no plant contributes
more to fertility. In a word, there has not for twocen-
j fur^es been introduced into Britain a more valuable
improvement.
Of roots, turnip requires the finest mould ; and
to that end, of all harrows frost is the best. In order
to give access to frost, the land ought to be prepared
by ribbing after harvest, as above directed in preparing
land tor barley. It the field be not subject to annuals,
it may lie in that state till the end of May ; otherwise,
the weeds must, be destroyed by a braking about the’
middle of April, and again in May, if weeds arise.
The first week of June, plough the held with a shallow
furrow. Lime it if requisite, and harrow the lime into
the soil. Draw single furrows with intervals of three
feet, and Jay dung in the furrows. Cover the dung
sufficiently, by going round it with the plough, and
forming the three feet spaces into ridges. The duno-
comes thus to lie below the crown of every ridge. °
. The season of sowing must be regulated by the time
intended for feeding. Where intended for feeding in
November, December, January, and February, the
seed ought to he sown from the first to the 20th of June.
Where the feeding is intended to be carried on to
March, April and May, the seed must not be sown
till the beginning of July. Turnip sown earlier than
above directed, flowers that very summer, and runs
fast to seed ; which renders it in a great measure unfit
for food. If sown much later, it does not apple, and
there is no food but from the leaves.
agriculture. 409
size, and continue good much longer than others. The Culture of
red or purple-topped will also grow large, and continue particular
good to the beginning of February ; but the roots be-
come hard and stringy sooner than the former. ^
I he green-topped growing more aboveground, is in
tnore danger of sustaining injury from severe frosts than
the red or purple, which are ‘more than half covered
by the soil; but it is the softest and sweetest, when
giown large, of any kind. We have seen them brought
to table a foot in diameter, and equally good as garden
turnips.
lurnips delight in a light soil, consisting of sand and
loam mixed 5 for when the soil is rich and heavy, al¬
though the crop may be as great in weight, they will
be rank, and run to flower earlier in spring.
Turnip-seed, like that of grain, will not do wellobservl
wi lout frequent changing. The Norfolk seed is sent tion* with,
to most parts of the kingdom, and even to Ireland : butreSar^ td
after two years it degenerates j so that those who wislAeed-
to have turnips in perfection should procure it fresh
every year from Norwich, and they will find their ac¬
count in so doing. For, from its known reputation,
many of the London seedsmen sell, under that charac¬
ter, seed raised in the vicinity of the metropolis, which
is much inferior in quality.
M hen the plants have got five leaves, they should be
hoed, and set out at least six inches apart. A month
afterward, or earlier, if it be a wet season, a second hoe¬
ing should take place, and the plants be left at least nine
inches distant from each other, especially if intended
I or T£»pninn* f f 1 * L „  ^ n. *1 • *
Though by a drill plough the seed may be so,™ of f„r feeding ^
any thickness j the sales, way is to sow thick. Thin they will % propirtiLaUy sllltT'^L tl S ^
28l
roperties
f different
>rts of
(mips.
sowing is liable to many accidents, which are Tar from
being counterbalanced by the expence that is saved in
thinning. Thick sowing can bear the ravage of the
black fly, and leave a sufficient crop behind. It is a pro¬
tection against drought, gives the plant a rapid pro¬
gress, and establishes them in the ground before it is
necessary to thin them.
The sowing turnip broad-cast is common in England,
though a barbarous practice. The eminent advantage
of turnip is, that, besides a profitable crop, it makes a
most complete fallow j and the latter cannot be obtain¬
ed but by horse-hoeing. Upon that account, the sow-
xvr jUrn*I) rows ^ distance is recommended.
Wider rows answer no profitable end, straiter rows af¬
ford not room for a horse to walk in.
In swampy ground, the surface of which is best re¬
ducing by paring and burning, the seed may be sown
in rows with intervals of a foot. To save time, a drill-
plough may be used that sows three or four rows at
once. Hand-hoeing is proper for such ground j be¬
cause the soil, under the burnt stratum is commonly full
of roots, which digest and rot better under ground than
when brought to the surface by the plough. In the
mean time, while these are digesting, the ashes will se¬
cure a good crop.
In cultivating turnips to advantage, great care should
be taken to procure a good, bright, nimble, and well-
dried seed, and of the best kinds.
The Norfolk farmers generally raise the oval white,
the large green-topped, and the red or purple topped
kinds, which from long experience they have found to
be the most profitable.
The roots of the green-topped will grow to a large
Vol. I. Part II. ‘ .j?
very rich indeed.
Some of the best Norfolk farmers sow turnips in Methods
drills three feet asunder, and at a second hoeing leave of culture
them a foot apart in their rows. By this means tlie’n^or^’
trouble and expence of hoeing is much lessened, and
the crop is of equal weight as when sown in the com¬
mon method. The intervals may easily be cleared of
weeds by the horse-hoe.
.There has been laid before the Board of Agricul-
ture, the result of some interesting experiments, which^
we shall here state, that were made by Mr W. Jobson
°1 Turvelaws, with a view to ascertain the comparative turr, vol. ii.
merits of the two modes of rearing turnips by drill or
broad-cast. The trial was made upon a part of a field
of tj acre, sown in the month of June 1797. ■■ TheCllll„e4of
whole held, says Mr Jobson, was m equal tilth, was turnip by
manured as equally as possible ipimediately before drill and
sowing with rotted fold-yard dung, at the rate of 17 broad-cast
cart loads per acre, each load containing about 28c®mPaieJ‘
Winchester bushels ; and in order to make the experi¬
ment perfectly fair, there were breadths of land of
20 yards each, sown in broad-cast and drills alternate¬
ly, throughout the whole field. Part of the drills on
one-hout ridges, of 27 inches each, with the dung laid
immediately underneath, where the row of seed was
deposited j the rest of the drills upon a level surface,
were sown by Mr Bayley’s machine at 21 inches di¬
stance. Hie produce per acre is calculated from thfe
weight of four square perches, or the fortieth part of a
statute acre of each, having first cut off the tails, or fi¬
brous part of the root, and thrown them aside, as unfit
for food, and then taken the weight of the tops and
roots separately.
3 F “It
AGRICULTURE.
Culture of “ It is necessary to observe, that this field of turnip
particular was but a middling crop, having been much hurt im¬
plants. mediately after the first hoeing, by the grub (a small
   —1 worm wh;ch destroys the root), particularly the drilled
part of the field, which, having had the plants set out,
at the distances at which they were intended to remain
before the grub seized them, was on that account ren¬
dered too thin and otherwise much injured ; notwith¬
standing which, it was found that those on the one-
bout ridges exceeded the others in weight; also, that
these parcels of turnips were taken from an inferior
(though not the worst) part of the field, and may
therefore be deemed to be a pretty fair average of the
whole : there were also three other portions weighed,
which were taken from a part of the field where the
roots were larger, and a fuller crop, with a view to as¬
certain what might have been expected, had not the
grub seized them in the manner described j but unfor¬
tunately the paper containing their weight has been
lost or mislaid, which puts it out of my power to fur¬
nish you wuth it. There was also an account taken of
the number (but not the weight) of loads which were
produced upon a few acres of the worst part of the field,
which was in favour of the broad-cast, in the piopor-
tion of ten of broad-cast to nine of those drills on one-
bout ridges, and eight of Mr Bayley’s drill.
“ From this experiment (though defective from the
reason assigned) we have reason to conjecture, though
not to form a conclusion, that a heavier crop may be
raised by sowing in drills at 27 inches distance with
the dung immediately beneath the plants, than in broad¬
cast or in drills at 21 inches on a level surface : but
whether the advantage arises from the situation in
which the dung is deposited, or from their haying a
freer circulation of air, or from both these united, it
remains for future and repeated experiments to decide.
Notwithstanding this, it will be found, that each ot
these methods possesses peculiar advantages and disad¬
vantages, according to situations and circumstances ;
the reasons for which I deduce from the observations
Practice.
I have made respecting this as well as former crops. Culture of
In the fi rst place, the one-bout ridges I think prefer- particular
able for early sowing, and eating off, through the t piants.
winter months, even so late as the month of February,
as they are more easily procured for food for cattle in
deep snows ; also in situations where it is difficult to
procure a sufficient number of experienced hoers,
those under the drill system can be more easily mana¬
ged and at less expence, as boys and girls may be rea¬
dily taught to set out the plants with great regularity
in very little time ; but turnips under this system are
liable to the inconvenience of being more apt to be in¬
jured by severe frosts from their high exposure. Ano¬
ther inconvenience I have also observed on wet and
heavy lands, more especially with little declivity, that
although there should, and possibly may, be a larger
crop produced thereby, yet the land will unavoidably
be so much poached by carrying them off, that the
succeeding crop of corn will be lessened more than the
extra value of the turnips will compensate. When it
is attempted to raise turnips upon land of this descrip¬
tion, it will be found more advantageous to form it
into ridges of sufficient height to carry off the water
with ease into the water furrows, and of sufficient
breadth (suppose fifteen feet) to allow a cart to pass
along them freely, without forcing the earth in to
choke up these furrows. The turnips may be sown ei¬
ther in broad castor in drills, upon the surface of these
ridges. If the land is addicted to annual weeds, they
will be best in drills, which will expedite the hoeing j
but if not, or if they be late in sowing, or if the land
be subject to the grub, broad cast will generally be
found to pioduce a more certain crop, as they can be
left so near to each other at the first hoeing as to ad¬
mit of being thinned, and thereby give the opportu¬
nity of taking out unhealthy plants at the subsequent
hoeings, and also that they grow more vigorously be¬
tween the first and second hoeings.”
The result of the experiment here alluded to, is
stated in the following manner:
Comparative TFeight of six portions of Turnips, which were part of a Field of fifteen acres: the whole of
which was Sown in the Month of June 1797, as an experiment between the Drill and Broad-cast systems.
Time of
weighing.
N°I. Drilled on one-boutridges,
at 27 inches distance.
II. Drilled with Mr Bayley’s
machine, on a level sur¬
face, at 21 inches di¬
stance.
III. Broad-cast.
IV. Drilled on one-boutridges,
at 27 inches distance.
V. Broad-cast. These and the
preceding were round
white turnips.
VI. Broad-cast (Red)
January
ditto
do.
Mar. 2.
do.
do.
Number
upon four
square
perches.
354
428
568
334
628
561
Weight on four square
perches, on the qcth
part of an acre.
Weight per sta¬
tute acre.
ROOTS.
Cwt. qr. lb.
8 1 1
7 1 j5t
7 2 124-
3 3
8 2 22
6 3
TOPS.
Cwt. qr. lb
1 1 3
1 1 Si
1 o 11^
1 22
1 1 8
2 3 5
Tons. cwt. qr. lb.
19 I O 20
17 7 I 8
17 8 I 26
20 7 3 12
20 O
19 II
2 24
I O
Average
weight
of each
turnip.
lb. oz.
3 04
2 4i
1
1 11*
1 *5!
Average distance of
each turnip.
i6£ in. by 27 in
17 in. by 21 in.
16^ each way.
17 by 27 in.
16 each way.
t6i each way.
“ By
2 Sj
Value as
food for
attic.
iJart I. A G R I
Culture of “ By noting the average distance of each turnip, as
particular is done in the last column, is intended to show, at one
Plants, view, how many plants there were wanting in the drills
' to have made them a full crop; for, if 550 be stated
as a medium number in a full crop, upon the 40th part
of an acre, they will be found to occupy a space of 17
inches each way in broad-cast, 10^- by 27 inches on
the one-bout ridges, and 13^- by 21 inches of those
drilled on the level surface ; from whence may be ea¬
sily seen, how much those were wider in the rows than
they ought to have been.”
Great quantities of turnips are raised in Norfolk
every year for feeding black cattle, which turn to great
advantage.
It is well known, that an acre of land contains 4840
square yards, or 43,560 square feet; suppose then that
every square foot contains one turnip, and that they
weigh only two pounds each on an average, here will
be a mass of food, excellent in kind, of 46 tons per
acre, often worth from four to five guineas, and some¬
times more.
Extraordinary crops of barley frequently succeed
turnips, especially when fed off the land. In feeding
them off, the cattle should not be suffered to run over
too much of the ground at once, for in that case they
will tread down and spoil twice as many as they eat.
In Norfolk, they are confined by hurdles to as much
as is sufficient for them for one day. By this mode the
crop is eaten clean, the soil is equally trodden, which
if light is of much service, and equally manured by the
cattle.
A notion prevails in many places, that mutton fat¬
tened with turnips is thereby rendered rank and ill
tasted; but this is a vulgar error. The best mutton in
Norfolk (and few counties have better) is all fed with
turnips. It is by rank pastures, and marshy lands, that
rank mutton is produced.
If the land be wet and springy, the best method is
to draw and carry off your turnips to some dry pasture;
for the treading of the cattle will not only injure the
crop, but render the land so stiff, that you must he at
an additional e^pence in ploughing.
To preserve turnips for late spring feed, the best me¬
thod, and which has been tried with success by some,
of the best English farmers, is, to stack them up in
dry straw ; a load of which is sufficient to preserve
40 tons of turnips. The method is easy, and is as fol¬
lows :—
After drawing your turnips in February, cut off the
tops and tap roots (which may be given to sheep), and
let them lie a few days in the field, as no weather will
then hurt them.
Then, on a layer of straw next the ground, place a
layer of turnips two feet thick ; and then another layer
of straw, and so on alternately, till you have brought
the heap to a point. Care must be taken to turn up
the edges of the layers of straw, to prevent the turnips
from rolling out; cover the top well with long straw,
and it will serve as a thatch for the whole.
In this method, as the straw imbibes the moisture ex¬
haled from the roots, all vegetation will be prevented,
and the turnips will be nearly as good in May as when
first drawn from the field. If straw he scarce, old
haulm or stubble will answer the same purpose.
But to prevent this trouble and expence, perhaps
411
286
vtethod of
wesemng
uruijx.
CULTURE.
farmers in all counties would find it most to their inte- Culture of
lest to adopt the method used by our neighbours the particular
01 folk farmers, which is, to continue sowing turnips < Plants,
to the latter end of August; by which means their late v~ "3
crops remain good in the field till the latter end of A-
pnl, and often till the middle of May.
The advantages of having turnips good till the spring
seed is generally ready, are so obvious, and so great,
that many ot the most intelligent farmers (although at
first prejudiced against the practice) are now come into
it, and find their account in so doing. „
The greatest disadvantage which attends a crop of The fly oc-
turnips, is their being so ready to be damaged by tliecasi0Ils the
fly, which sometimes destroys them so completely, thatgreat 'l1'
they must be sown over again two or three times the *“1 in tur-
same season, and even this without any certainty of sue-nip culture,
cess. Innumerable methods of avoiding this evil have
been projected, which may all be reduced to the fol¬
lowing classes: 1. Steeping the seed in certain liquids.
2. Fumigation of the fields with the smoke of certain
herbs. 3. Rolling. 4. Strewing soot, lime, ashes, &c.
on the surface of the ground, it is very difficult, how¬
ever, to determine, with any degree of certainty, whe¬
ther remedies of this kind are effectual or not; because
sometimes the turnips are not injured though n^pre-
caution has been made use of: and when this happens
to be the case, after the use of any supposed preven¬
tive, the preservation of the crop is ascribed to the
use of that preventive, whether it be really efficacious 288
or not. The virtues of steeps seem to have been fullyAVhethei
ascertained by Mr Winter Charlton near Bristol, 0f stecV* for
whose experiments an account is given in the Transac-
tions of the Society for Encouraging Arts, vol. v. The use.
seeds were of the Dutch kind, sowed on beds in the
kitchen garden in drills, about twelve inches distant,
an inch and a half deep, on the nth of May 1786.
The beds had been prepared with rotten dung in May
1785, and afterwards sown with cabbages. The qua¬
lity of the turnips is exhibited in the following table ;
the best being marked 1 ; and those of inferior quality,
2, 3, &c. The observations were taken on the 26th
of June.
Seed without any preparation,
steeped in train oil flourished extremely,
steeped in linseed oil, somewhat inferior,
mixed with soot and water,
with drainings of a dunghill,
with elder and barton draining,
with soot, -
with elder leaf juice,
with elder and barton draining, soot
being sown over the covered drills, 3
with ditto, and lime sowed over the
* drills, - - . - 3
sowed with soot scattered over, and then
covered, - - - 3
with barton draining, - - 4
an elder bush drawn over when the
plants appeared, - - 4
with stale human urine, very few plants
appeared,
with slaked lime scattered over, and
then covered, very few plants ap¬
peared,
3 F 2 Seed
412
AGRICULTURE.
Culture of
particular
Plants.
*89
Mr Gul¬
let’s direc¬
tions for
fumigation.
Seed sowed with elder, barton-braining, and slaked
lime, very few plants appeared,
•with lime and barton draining did not
vegetate.
Another set of experiments was made with the green
Norfolk turnip, drilled an inch and a half deep, the
rows one foot distant, on beds eight feet three inches
long, and two feet wide ; half a drachm of seed al¬
lowed for each bed, steeped and mixed with various
substances like the former. The seeds were drilled
upon unmanured ground on the 20th of June 1786,
and the observation made on the 17th of July. None
of the beds were found free from the ravages of the
fly •, but the seed which had been steeped in train oil
and linseed oil were much more free from this injury
than the others. The linseed oil, as in the former ex¬
periment, wras found inferior to the train oil, which
was supposed to have been owing to its being kept in
a bottle that had formerly held oil of turpentine. The
leaves of the steeped seeds were of a much darker green
than the others, appeared twice as thick in bulk and
luxuriancy, and the plants were considerably larger
than those of the other kinds. The substances mixed
with the rest were soapers ashes, wood ashes, pounded
gunpowder, brimstone, slaked lime, soot, barton-drain¬
ing $ sometimes mixed together in various proportions,
and sometimes with the addition of a portion of sifted
mould.
These experiments show, that no dependence can be
had on steeps or mixtures of any kind with the turnip-
seed ; though the train oil and linseed oil seem greatly
to have forwarded the vegetation of the plant. It does
not appear that fumigation has ever been tried j nor
indeed does it seem easy to be tried in such a manner
as might ensure success.—-In the fourth volume of the
Bath Papers, Mr Gullet of Devonshire gives such di¬
rections for performicg the operation as he thinks would
be productive of success.—In a preceding paper he had
explained the good effects of fumigating orchards ; but
the case with these must be very considerably different
from a field of turnips. The trees in an orchard are
elevated above the ground, and the smoke naturally as¬
cends, and is blown along their tops : but in fumigating
a large field of turnips, it must creep along the ground
in such a manner as is by no means agreeable to its na¬
ture} and without an excessive degree of labour, as well
as a vast quantity of burning materials, there cannot be
the least hope of success. Mr Gullet’s directions are as
follow : “ If the turnip ground be spaded and burnt, or
the weeds, &c. burnt without spading, the fumigation
thereby may suffice to chase such of the winged tribe
from thence as are then there} but in all cases, when the
field is ploughed and ready for sowing, let heaps be
made at different places and intervals round by the
hedges and boundaries of the turnip-ground, and some
few scattered through the field} then, as soon as the
seed is sown, let the heaps on the windward side and
the scattered ones be lighted and kept smothering du¬
ring the continuance of the wind in that quarter; the
less the fire, and the more the smoke, the better. Should
the wind happen to shift, those heaps on the quarter it
shifts to must then be lighted and kept smothering in
jlike manner} so that during the growth of the tender
turnip leaf, and until it becomes rough and out of all
2
Practice.
danger, this fumigation and smoke, over and across the culture of
field, must be continued from one quarter to the other } particular
which I venture to assert, will effectually deter and Plants,
prevent any winged insect tribe from approaching the
turnip-ground : nay more, if there already, it would
most completely drive them from thence, as such
delicately formed insects (which can only feed on
the most tender leaf) would be ill able to continue long
in such a smother of fire and smoke. The consequence
is obvious and certain, that if the fly be kept from
approaching the field, the turnip-crop is safe} and few,
I believe, will disagree with me, that 'prevention is better
than remedy.','>
Our author does not say that he has ever tried this
method with turnips } but lays great stress upon his suc¬
cess in a similar experiment with cabbages, in order to
preserve them from the caterpillar. To make the mat¬
ter more sure, however, he recommends the trailing of
a bush of elder over the turnip field at the time of har¬
rowing or brushing in the seed: but this remedy has
by numberless experiments been found insignificant,
and by those above related seems even to be pernicious :
so that whatever good effects we can expect from this
method, must depend on the fumigation alone} and
even this is attended with very great uncertainties, as
has already been observed. ^
Rolling promises to be of service when the young Of rolling
turnips are attacked by snails, which frequently destroy
them; but it cannot be supposed to have much effect
in destroying flies, these being too numerous and too
minute to be effectually crushed by the roller: and in¬
deed, though this has been frequently recommended,
we have no decisive proofs of its having ever been at¬
tended with any good effect.
The strewing of soot, lime, ashes, &c. upon the
ground, have been determined ineffectual by the expe¬
riments already related, at least when applied before
the turnips come up } and there seems to be little hope
of their proving more effectual even when applied after
the crop has appeared above ground. We may argue
indeed a priori about the taste or smell of soot, lime,
&c. being disagreeable to insects } but of this we have
no proof: and even though this were the case, the leaf
soon emerges from under this covering, or the insects
will feed on the under part of the leaves, where these
substances cannot lie. It is evident, therefore, that very
little can be expected from any of the methods hitherto
proposed either by way of cure or prevention. Other
methods have been suggested.
One method proposed for securing turnips fromgow*,fgS
the fly, is by sowing such a quantity of seed as will great quas-
be more than sufficient for the eonsumpt of the in-tity of !te&
sects. This we find recommended in a letter to the
Bath Society, by a gentleman-farmer in Essex, vol. ii.
p. 238. His method is to make the land clean and.
fine as soon as the season will permit, and to sow four
pints per acre. It may be objected, that if the fly does
not take them, the plants will stand so thick, that they
cannot easily be hoed } but this may be obviated by har¬
rowing them first, which will make them fit for the
hoe. There can be no expectation of a crop if the fly
takes them when only a pint of seed is sown per acre }
but this gentleman remarks, that he has not in any one
instance missed of a crop when he sowed four pints } be¬
cause, though the fly has sometimes destroyed more
than
rt I.
A G R I C U L T
;ture of
ticular
lants.
492
] luring
i utunm
j erable
t pring
» mre.
> mm.
P ; opi.
» of
* iga
*' • quan-
seed
1“ y of
l“ :ed.
than one half, anti much tlamaged the other, still there
was a sufficient number left behind. He also agrees
with other of the Society’s correspondents, that the
ground should be well dunged and manured previous to
the sowing of turnips, as this makes them grow vigo¬
rously, so that they quickly get into the rough leaf, in
which state the fly will not touch them.
In the same volume, a gentleman of Norfolk remarks,
that manuring the ground in autumn for turnips is pre¬
ferable to the doing so in spring. This discovery he
made in consequence of the following accident.—“ A
neighbouring farmer, not having a sufficient quantity of
manure for all his turnip land, was under the necessity
of sowing four acres unmanured. The effect was, that
the turnips on the manured part of the land were
mostly eaten off by the fly, while four acres unmanured
escaped without injury.” In consequence of having
observed this, the gentleman made a similar experiment,
by manuring five acres well for turnips, and tilling
three acres and a half in the usual way without any
manure. The manured crops were almost all destroyed
by the fly, so that he was obliged to sow most of the
land over again. The three acres and a half which
had no manure were entirely free from injury, though
the plants were much smaller than those of the manu¬
red ground which came up. Not content with this
trial, however, he repeated the experiment by manu¬
ring six acres of wheat stubble in autumn, ploughing it
in immediately, and leaving it to incorporate with the
earth during the winter: the turnips which grew upon
this were as large as if the ground had been manured
in the spring. This experiment was repeated with sur¬
prising success in two succeeding years ; whence he in¬
fers, that the fly is either engendered in the new dung
or enticed by it. But when the manure is laid on in
autumn it loses its noxious qualities, though it still re¬
tains its nutritive ones.—-This conclusion, however,
does not appear to be well founded j for it is certain,
from undoubted experience, that turnips which have
been well manured in the common way, have some¬
times escaped any injury ; while others, which have
got no manure at all, have been almost totally destroy¬
ed. Another material advantage, however, which
this correspondent observes is to be derived from ma¬
nuring in autumn is, that all the seeds contained in the
manure, and which are of course carried to the land
with it, vegetate almost immediately, and are mostly
killed by the cold of the succeeding winter, while the
few that remain can scarce escape destruction from the
ploughshare.
Mr Wimpey is also of opinion, that it is proper to
saw a large quantity of seed j but thinks two pounds
will be sufficient for an acre. A few ounces indeed
would be sufficient to stock the land j but as the article
.is so precarious, he thinks it by far the safest way to
allow seed in plenty, and reduce the plants afterwards
by harrowing. He observes also, that it is of great
consequence to have seed both good in quality and of
the best species. He prefers the large and green top¬
ped, as being the most sweet and juicy j others give
the preference to the red or purple-topped, as being
hardier: but at any rate, the seed from the largest and
finest transplanted turnips, of whatever sort, is greatly
to be preferred, even though it should cost double or
tyeble the price. Such as is sold by the seedsmen in
U L T U K E. 4I3
London he found generally of a mixed kind, and often Culture rf
in great part not worth cultivating. “ Whether plants particular
from new or old seed are most secure from the depre-, p^ants-
dations of the fly (says he), is perhaps a question which y—^
cannot be easily determined even by experiments ; for
concomitant circumstances are frequently so much more
operative and powerful, as to render the difference be¬
tween them, if there be any, imperceptible. It is, how¬
ever, known to every practical man, that new seed
sprouts or vegetates several days before old} and I
think more vigorously :.and it is equally well known,
that the healthy and vigorous plants escape the fly*
when the stinted and sickly seldom or never escape it.
Hence it would seem, that new seed, cceterisparibus, is
more secure from the fly than old ; and for my own use
I would always prefer it.”
In this dissertation on the culture of turnips, we Instrument
cannot avoid taking notice of an instrument used in for trans-
Norfolk for transplanting them, and thus filling upplan.tin»
the gaps which frequently happen in fields from the^AP^
failure of the plants in particular spots. It is repre-pm, volir.
sented on the margin ; and the construction and modeP- 126-
of using are obvious from the figure.—When the tur¬
nips are to be transplanted, the workman holds the long
handle with the left hand, and the short one with the
right hand drawn up. Put the instrument then over
the plant that is to be taken up, and with your foot
force it into the ground } then give it a twist round,
and by drawing it gently up, the earth will adhere to-
the roots of the plant in a solid body; then with ano¬
ther instrument of the same size take the earth out
where the plant is to be put, and bringing the instru¬
ment with the plant in it, put it into the hole which
has been made by the other} then keep your right
hand steady, and draw up your left, and the earth and
plant will be left in the hole with the roots undisturb¬
ed. In this operation two men will be employed, each
of them having an instrument of the form represented
on the margin. One man takes up a plant, while the
other fills his instrument with earth only, thereby ma¬
king room for the deposition of the plant; so that the
hole which is made by taking up the plant is filled with
the earth taken out where the plant is to be put}
which being deposited, he takes up a plant, and re¬
turns to the place he first set out from, the former man
at the same time returning with the earth only ; so that
each man is alternately the planter, and each being
employed both ways, the work goes on briskly.—This
instrument was the invention of Mr Cubbit Gray of
Southrepps, Norfolk.
Turnips being the grand basis of the Norfolk hus¬
bandry, Mr Marshall gives a very particular account
of their culture in that county.—The species cultiva¬
ted are, 1. The common white stock, called in many
places the Norfolk turnip. 2. The purple stock is simi- ^ ^
lar to the former, but its rind is of a dark red or purple
colour; its size in general smaller, and its texture0fturnips,
closer and firmer than that of the common white
stock ; it also stands the winter better, and is more suc¬
culent in the spring, but it is not so well relished by
cattle as the former; whence it is less generally culti¬
vated. 3. The pudding-stock, the tankard-turnip of the
midland counties, is in shape so perfectly different from
the common sort, that it might be ranked as a distinct •
species. It rises in a cylindrical form, eight, ten, or
twelve;.
414
AGRICULTURE.
297
Advantage
of using
marl.
Culture of twelve inches high, standing in a manner wholly above
particular ground j generally taking a rough irregular outline, and
Plants. a S0me\vhat reclining posture. It very much resembles
tbe common turnip, and is by much its most formidable
rival. In many respects it seems to be superior, parti-
cularlv in being readily drawn, and eaten off by sheep
with much less waste than the common turnip.—The
disadvantage is, that they are liable to the attacks ol
frost, by reason of their standing so high above the sur¬
face of the ground *, so that on the whole, Mr Marshall
concludes, that the common white turnip is to be pre¬
ferred to every other.
In Norfolk, turnips are sown upon every species of
arable land. Marl is found to be highly beneficial •,
and by means of this manure, a soil naturally unfit
for turnips may be rendered proper for it. They suc¬
ceed barley better than any other crop ; some few are
sown on wheat or pea stubble alter harvest; but this is
not a general practice. The manures in greatest repu¬
tation for turnips are dung, with a greater or smaller
admixture of mould ; malt-coombs are also in good re¬
pute, and oil-cake is used by a few individuals; “ but
it may be said that nine acres of ten ol the turnips
grown in east Norfolk are manured with muck.”—The
Manures quantity of dung set on for a crop of turnips generally
of different depends on tbe quantity on band, and the quantity of
kinds. turnip ground to be manured. From 10 to 15 cart
loads of muck are considered as a good dressing ; and
about a ton of oil cake to three acres ; 50 or 60 bush¬
els of malt-coombs, and 40 or 60 bushels of soot, to an
€>altivation
of turnips
for early
consump¬
tion.
300
culture.
When the turnips are intended for early consump¬
tion, the sooner they can be got into the ground the
better; but when they are intended to stand the win¬
ter, the beginning of July is thought soon enough.
The most general rule is to begin sowing about a
week before midsummer, and continue till about a fort¬
night after, viz. from the rytli or 18th ol June to the
Method of 7th or 8th of July.—Broad cast sowing is universal, iu
sowing, and tiie quantity of two pints to an acre. The seed is co¬
vered by two lines of a pair of light harrows drawn
backward, in order to prevent the tines, which usually
point something forward, from tearing up the clods,
and burying the seed too deep. The horses are uni¬
versally walked one wa^, and trotted back again in the
same place. This is an excellent custom ; the quick
zig-zag motion of the harrows at once assisting to le¬
vel the surface, and to distribute tbe seeds more even¬
ly.—They are universally hoed ; and unless they be
sown very late, are generally hoed twice. The di¬
stance of time between tbe sowing and the first hoeing
depends upon the soil and season ; the size of the plants
being tbe only guide. When turnips are suffered to
grow too large before they are hoed, the plants are
difficult to be set out singly, and are liable to be drawn
up by weeds, thereby acquiring a slender upright ten¬
dency ; whereas their natural growth in their infant
state, is procumbent, spreading their first leaves on the
ground, and taking tbe form of a rose.—If tbe hoe be
put in too soon, tbe plants which are set out are liable
to be buried, and their tender roots disturbed in the
act of setting out the neighbouring plants. The time
for hoeing, as directed by the most judicious husband¬
men, is when the plants, as they lie spread upon the
ground, are about the size of the palm of the hand :
3
Practice
if, however, seed-weeds be numerous and luxuriant,
they ought to be checked before the turnips arrive at particuh*
that size, lest by being drawn up tall and slender they Plants,
should acquire a weak and sickly habit. Tbe proper
distance depends upon the nature of the soil and the
time of sowing ; such as are sown early, in a rich pro¬
ductive soil, require to be set out wider than those
sown late on a soil of a contrary nature. If the soil
be at par, the distance ought to be regulated by the
time of soing: if this be at par, the nature or state
of the soil should be the regulator. Mr Marshall com¬
plains of the conduct of the Norfolk farmers in gene-
ral in this respect, who “ hack out their turnips, 14,
15, or perhaps 18 inches asunder, without any regard
to the state of the soil, or time of sowing. This prac¬
tice was established while the Norfolk soil was full of
marl, and new to turnips ; and when, it is probable,
11 or 12 inches in diameter was no uncommon size,
with tops proportionally large and spreading; and
14 or 15 inches might then be a proper distance.
But now, when the efficacy of marl is lessened, and
the soil no longer the favourite of turnips, which sel¬
dom reach more than seven or eight inches in diameter,
it is ruinous and absurd to continue the practice.”
Turnips are cultivated either for seed, for sale, or
for consumption. When cultivated for seed, it is sup¬
posed in most parts of the kingdom that it ought al¬
ways te be taken from transplanted roots ; but in Nor¬
folk they are frequently raised from such as are untrans- ||
planted. “ It is a fact (says Mr Marshall) well un-^i^Mj
derstood by every husbandman here, that if the seed beofturaif I
gathered repeatedly from untranspianted roots, theforseeo |
plants from this seed will become coarse-necked and
foul-rooted : and the flesh of the root itself will be¬
come rigid and unpalatable. On the contrary, if it be
gathered year after year from transplanted roots, the
necks will become tf o fine, and the fibres too few :
the entire plant acquiring a weak delicate habit, and
the produce, though sweet, W’ill be small. Jor the
neck, or onset of the leaves, being reduced to the size
of the finger (for instance), the number and size of the
leaves will be reduced in proportion ; and in a similar
proportion will the number and size of the fibrils be re¬
duced. From a parity of reasoning, it may perhaps be
inferred, that when the neck acquires a thickness equal
to that of the wrist, the size of the root will be in pro¬
portion.
“ With respect to the fibres or rootlings, this is &
just inference : but with respect to the bulb, it is in
a great measure erroneous. For a few generations the
size of the bulb will keep pace with the increase of
leaves and fibres ; but after having once reached the
limits which nature has set to its magnitude, it begins
to revert to its original state of wildness, from which to
its present state it has undoubtedly been raised by
transplantation. The farmer has therefore two ex¬
tremes to avoid. The one is discoverable by the thick¬
ness and coarseness of the neck, the scaly roughness
of the bulb, the thickness of the rind in general, the
foulness of its bottom, and the forkedness of its main
or tap-root: the other by the slenderness of the neck,
the fineness of the leaf, and the delicacy of the root*
The former are unpalatable to cattle, and are therefore
creative of waste : the latter are unproductive, are dif¬
ficult to be drawn, and do not throw out such ample
tope
rt I.
ttire of
ticular
iants-
' :hod of
F ‘ting.
diod of
ing
iy birds.
i°4 .
irawin
turnips,
tops in the spring, as do those which are, by consti¬
tution or habit, in a middle state between these two
t extremes. I here is not, however, any general rule
respecting how many years turnips ought to be trans¬
planted successively, and how often they ought to be
suffered to run up from the seed-bed : the soil and si¬
tuation have, and other circumstances may have, in¬
fluence on the habit and constitution of vegetables as
ol animals ; and the farmer must attend alone to the
state of the turnips themselves. Whenever he judges,
that, by repeated transplantation, they have passed the
acme of perfection, then it is his dutv and interest to
let them run up to seed without transplantation. In
Norfolk it has been found, by long experience, that
transplanting two, three, or four years, and letting
the plants run up the third, fourth, or fifth, will keep
the stock in the desired state. The time of transplant¬
ing is from old Christmas to old Candlemas. In the
choice of plants, the farmer is not guided by size, but
picks the cleanest plants without regard to size •, or
more accurately speaking, he makes choice of such
as are near, but not at or above the state of perfec¬
tion. In almost every turnip-field there are plants
in various states : much judgment, therefore, is re¬
quisite in the choice of plants. A piece of good
ground near a habitation is generally chosen for this
purpose j but the method of planting is various : the
plants are generally set in rows, at uncertain d.stances
from one ariother.” These distances our author has
observed to be 16 or 18 inches, and the distance of
the plants in them nine or ten inches ; but the practice
of a man who, he tells us, is indisputably near the
head of his profession, is to plant them in rows two
feet asunder, the plants in the rows being contiguous.
File only culture required, is to keep the intervals
clean hoed ; hut when the seed begins to ripen, much
care is requisite to keep it from birds. If the plot be
large, it is necessary to employ a boy to scare them ;
but if it be small, and near the house, Mr Marshall
has known the following expedient used with success.
“ On a slender post, rising in the midst of the patch of
seed, was fixed a bell j from which a line passed into
the kitchen : in the most frequented part of this hung
the pull. Whoever passed the pull rung the bell j so
that in a farm-house kitchen, where a mistress and
two or three maids were some of them almost always
on the loot, an incessant peal was kept up ; and
the birds, having no respite from alarm, forsook their
prey.”
_ l he time of drawing commences about Michaelmas,
and continues until the plants be in blow. The process
of drawing, lie says, “ in severe weather, is an employ¬
ment which nothing but custom could reconcile to those
whose lot it is to go through it, namely, stout lads, and
youths ; whose hands are frequently swelled until the
joints are discernible only by the dimples they form
nevertheless he never heard of anv instance of bad ef¬
fects from this circumstance. When the tops will bear
it, their method of pulling is very expeditious : they
pull with both hands at once : and having filled each
hand, they bring the two together with a smart blow
to disengage the soil from the roots, and with the same
motion throw them into the cart. If the tops be cut
off by the frost, or if this be in the ground, the turnips
are raised with two-tined forks named crooms. If the
agriculture.
415
tools are buried under deep snow, it is removed by Culture of
means or an implement called the snow-sledge. This particular
consists of three deal-boards from one to two inches Plants.
Luck, 10 or 12 inches deep, and from seven to nine
feet long, set upon their edges in the form of an eqni- Snovv-*’
lateral triangle, and strongly united with nails or straps sledge de-
of iron at the angles ; at one of which is fastened, by scribed,
means of a double strap, a hook or an eye, to fasten the
horses to. . Ibis being drawn over a piece of turnips
covered with snow, forces up the latter into a ri Ige on
each side, while between the ridges a stripe of turnips
is left bare, without having- received any material in¬
jury from the operation. Though it is customary, in
drawing, to clear the ground entirely, our author met
with one instance in which the small ones were left by
a very good husbandman on the ground, both to in-
ciease in size, and to throw out tops in the springs it
being observable, that a small turnip sends up a top
nearly equal to one whose bulb is larger. There is one
inconvenience, however, arising from this practice $
the plough is prevented from entering upon the soil un¬
til late in the spring 5 which upon some soils is an un-
surmountahle objection ; though it may he very pro¬
per upon land which will bring good barley with one
ploughing after turnips. ^
Mr Marshall relates the following simple method, by Method of
which a Norfolk farmer preserved turnips through a preserving
considerable part of the winter season. Having cutturniPs‘
off their tops with a spade, he gave them to his cows,
and carried the bulbs to a new-made ditch, into which
he threw them, and then covered them up with straw,
laying over it a quantity of bramble kids. Here they
lay until wanted in a frost. They were then again
carted by means of a fork, and given to the cattle, who
ate them as well, or rather better than fresh drawn
turnips; and in general they came out as fresh as they
went in. Our author is of opinion, that this method
might be extended to the preservation of turnips till
the spring.
2. Carrot.
. ' 307
Of all roots, a carrot requires the deepest soil. It Culture ct
ought at least to be a foot deep, all equally good fromcarrot-
top to bottom. If such a soil be not in the farm, it
may be made artificially by trench-ploughing, which
brings to the surface what never had any communica¬
tion with the sun or air. When this new soil is suffi¬
ciently improved by a erop or two with dung, it is fit
for bearing carrots. Bew'are of dunging the year when
the carrots are sown ; for with fresh dung they seldom
escape rotten scabs.
The only soils proper for that root are a loam and a
sandy soil.
The ground must be prepared by the deepest furrow
that can be taken, the sooner after harvest the better;
immediately upon the back of which, a ribbing ought to
succeed, as directed for barley. At the end of March,
or beginning of April, which is the time of sowing the
seed, the ground must be smoothed with a brake. Sow
the seed in drills, with intervals of a foot for hand-hoe¬
ing ; which is no expensive operation where the crop
is confined to an acre or two : but if the quantity of
ground be greater, the intervals ought to be three feet,
in order for horse-hoeing.
Itl flat ground without ridges, it may be proper to
make
4^6
Culture of
©articular
Plants.
AGRICULTURE.
Bath Pa¬
pers, vol.ii*
P- i*
308
Much cul¬
tivated in
Suffolk and
part of
Norfolk.
309
Why the
culture has
not extend
<sd itself.
3io
Superiority
of carrots
to turnips.
3ti
Difficulty
af ascer¬
taining the
vyalue.
make parallel furrows with the plough, ten feet from
each other, in order to carry off any redundant moi¬
sture.
Carrots have been greatly recommended as food for
cattle, and, in this respect, bid fair to rival the potato;
though, with regard to the human species, they are far
inferior. The profit attending the cultivation of them,
however, appears to be much more doubtful than that
of potatoes. Mr Arthur Young informs us, that from
Norden’s Surveyor’s Dialogue, published in 1600, it ap¬
pears, “ that carrots were commonly cultivated at that
time about Orford in Suffolk, and Norwich in Nor¬
folk •, and he remarks, that the track of land between
Orford, Woodbridge, and Saxmundum, has probably
more carrots in it than all the rest of the kingdom put
together.” In 1779, few farmers in these parts had
less than five or six acres j many from 10 to 20 j and
one had 36 acres : the straight, handsome, and clean
roots were sent at 6d. per bushel to London } the rest be¬
ing used at home, principally as food for horses. In other
counties, he observes, the culture of carrots has not
extended itself •, that some have begun to cultivate
them in place of turnips, but have soon desisted; so that
the culture seems in a manner still confined to the angle
of Suffolk, where it first began. In attempting to in¬
vestigate the cause of this general neglect, he observes,
that “ the charge of cultivation is not so great as is
commonly imagined, when managed with an eye to an
extensive culture, and not a confined one for one or two
particular objects.” Two acres which our author had
in carrots cost 3I. 17s. 6d. per acre, including every
expence; but had not the summer been dry, he ob¬
serves, that his expences might have been higher ; and
when he tried the experiment 15 years before, his ex¬
pences, through inadvertence, ran much higher. His
difficulty this year arose chiefly from the polygonum
aviculare, the predominant weed, which is so tough that
scarcely any hoe can cut it. Some acres of turnips
■which he cultivated along with the carrots were all eat¬
en by the fly; but had they succeeded, the expence of
the crop would have been 18s. 3d. less per acre than
the carrots. “ But (adds our author) if we call the
superiority of expence 20s. an acre, I believe we shall
be very near the truth : and it must at once be appa¬
rent that the expence of 20s. per acre cannot be the
cause of the culture spreading so little ; for, to answer
this expence, there are favourable circumstances, which
must not be forgotten. 1. They (the carrots) are
much more impenetrable to frost, which frequently de¬
stroys turnips. 2. They are not subject to the distem¬
pers and accidents which frequently affect turnips; and
they are sown at a season when they cannot be affected
by drought, which frequently also destroys turnips.
3. They last to April, when stock, and especially sheep
farmers are so distressed, that they know not what re¬
source to provide. 4. The culture requisite for turnips
on a sandy soil, in order to destroy the weeds, destroys
also its tenacity, so that the crop cannot thrive ; but
with carrots the case is otherwise. Hence it appears,
that the reason why the cultivation of carrots is still so
limited, does not arise from the expence, but because
the value is not ascertained. In places where these roots
can be sent to London, or sold at a good price, the
tops being used as food for cattle, there is not the least
doubt that they are profitable ; and therefore in such
Practice
places they are generally cultivated : but from the ex- Culture <y
periments as yet laid before the public, a satisfactory particular
decisive knowledge of the value is not to be gained. Hants.
The most considerable practice, and the only one ofU“'“v—
common farmers upon a large scale, is that of the sands
of Woodbridge ; but here they have the benefit of a
London market, as already mentioned. Amongst
those whose experiments are published, Mr Billingsley
ranks foremost. Here again the value of carrots is ra¬
ther depreciated than advanced; for he raised great
crops, and had repeated experience upon a large scale of
their excellence in fattening oxen and sheep ; feeding
cows, horses, and hogs; and keeping ewes and lambs
in a very superior manner, late in the spring, after tur¬
nips were gone : but notwithstanding these great ad¬
vantages, he gave the culture up ; from which we may
conclude a deficiency in value. “ In several experi¬
ments (though not altogether determinate), I found the
value upon an average of all applications, to be 13d.
a bushel, heaped measure ; estimating which at yolb.
weight, the ton is ll. 14s.” The following are the
valuations of several gentlemen of the value of carrot
in the way of fattening cattle :
Per Ton.
Mr Mellish of Blyth, a general valuation of
horses, cows, and hogs, - L.l o 0
Mr Stovin of Doncaster, hogs bought lean,
fatted, and sold off, - - 4 O ©
Mr Moody of Ratford, oxen fatted, and the
account accurate, - - I o 0
Mr Taylor of Bifrons, saving of hay and
corn in feeding horses,
Mr Le Grand of Ash, fattening wethers,
Sir John Hobby Mill of Bishan, fattening
hogs, -
Mr Billingsley, for fattening hogs,
Some other gentlemen whom our author consulted,
could not make their carrots worth any thing : so that,
on the whole, it appears a matter of the utmost doubt,
so contradictory are the accounts, whether the culture
of carrots be really attended with any profit or not.
Thus Sir John Mill, by fattening hogs, makes ll. 6s.
and Mr Stovin 4I.; but others could not fatten hogs
upon them at all: and some of Mr Young’s neighbours
told him, that carrots were good for nothing except to
scour hogs to death. The experiment of Mr Le Grand
upon wethers appeared to be made with the greatest ac¬
curacy,; yet two circumstances seem to militate against
it. 1. The sheep were put lean to them; whereas it is
a fact well known, that if they are not half fat when
put to turnips, no profit will result; and it is possible
that the case may be the same with carrots. 2. He
gave them also as much fine hay as they would eat.
In this uncertain state of the matter, the only thing eX]
that can be done is to make a number of experimentsriments
with as much accuracy as possible, in order to ascertain coromei1
the real value per ton : and our author endeavours toe^
show, that there is no danger of losing much by expe¬
riments of this kind. “ I have shown (says he), that
they are to be cultivated for 4I. per acre, left on the
ground for sheep. Suppose the crop only two bushels
at yolb. each per rood, 320 per acre, or ten tons; it
will readily be agreed, that such a produce is very low
to calculate upon, since 20 tons are common among
carrot
o
6
13
art I. AGRICULTURE.
ulttire of carrot cultivators. It appears from Mr Le Grand’s
iU-tieclar experiments, that a wether worth 2l. 5s. eats i61b. of
1>lant?- , carrots, and four pounds of hay per day : dropping the
“"v hay, and calculating for sheep of less than half that size
(which are much more common), it will be perhaps an
ample allowance to assign them I2lb. of carrots a day.
It they are, as they ought to be, half fat when put up,
they will be completely fattened in 100 days. At this
rate, 20 wethers will, in 100 days, eat n tons, or very
little more than one moderate acre. Now, let it be
remembered, that it is a good acre of turnips which
will fatten eight such wethers, the common Norfolk
calculation : from which it appears, that one acre of
carrots is, for this purpose, of more value than two of
turnips. Further, let us suppose horses fed with them
instead of oats : to top, cart, and pack up, 10 tons of
carrots, I know may be done for 20s.—An acre there¬
fore (other expences included) costs 5I. Fifty pounds
weight of carrots are an ample allowance for a horse a
day : ten tons, at that rate, last three horses for five
months. But this jjl. laid out in oats at 16s. per quar¬
ter, will purchase little more than six quarters j which
will last three horses, at two bushels each per week, no
more than two months j a most enormous inferiority to
3,3 the carrots.”
periment In the same volume, p. 1 87. Mr Young gives an ac-
nhwith C0lln.t ano^ier experiment made by himself on the
W1 feeding of lambs with carrots. The quantities they ate
varied excessively at different times j thirty-six of them
consumed from five to ten bushels per day ; but on an
average, he rates them at four bushels of 56 pound per
day. In all, they consumed 407 bushels from Novem¬
ber to April, when they were sold and killed fat. At
putting upon the carrots, the lambs were valued only
at 18I. but were sold in April at 25I. 43.5 so that
the value of the carrots was exactly 7I. 4s. or about
4d. per bushel. This price he supposes to be sufficient
to induce any one to attempt the culture of carrots, as
thus he would have a clear profit of 40s. per acre j
“ which (says he) is greater than can attend the best
wheat crops in this kingdom.” The land on which the
carrots grew was sown next year with barley, and pro¬
duced the cleanest in the parish $ which contradicts an
assertion our author had heard, that carrots make land
foul. The grass upon which the sheep were fed with
the carrots, and which amounted to about an acre, was
very little improved for the crop of hay in 1781, owing
to the dryness of the season j but in 1782 was greatly
superior to the rest of the field, and more improved in
quantity: “ for, instead of an indifferent vegetation,
scattered thick with the centaureascabiosa, filago, rhin-
anthus, crista galli, and linum catharticum, with other
plants of little value, it encouraged a very beautiful
sheet of the best plants that can appear in a meadow,
viz. the lathyrus pratensis, achillea millefolium, tri¬
folium repens, trifolium ochroleucrum, trifolium al-
314 Pestie, and the plantago lanceolata.
roti If* the same volume of the Bath Papers, p. 227, Mr
npared Billingsley gives an account of the comparative profit
ll cal)' °f carrots and cabbages. Of the former, however, he
obtained only seven tons, 15 cwt. per acre : the cab¬
bages produced 36 tonsi nevertheless, according to him,
the profit of the former was 5I. 8s.; of the latter, only
S'- ns. In a paper on the culture of carrots by Mr
Kirby of Ipswich, vol. iii. p. 84. he informs us, that he
Vol. I. Part II. +
never determined the weight of an acre, hut reckons Culture of
the produce from 200 to 500 bushels j which, at 561b. particular
to the bushel, is from five to ten tons and an half. Plants.
In the same volume, p. 320, the Rev. Mr Onley seems '"”T~ '
to prefer the culture of carrots to potatoes. “ How- Culture of
ever valuable (says he), from ease of culture, and great- carrots pre.
ness of produce, to the poor, especially in all small spots, ferred to
I doubt, unless near great towns, whether, on a farm- Potatoe*’
mg plan, potatoes be so eligible as other herbage or
roots, especially as carrots, which I cannot but surmise
(for my trials are too trivial to venture bolder language),
deserve every encouragement, even on soils hitherto
thought too heavy for them.—I am from experience
convinced, that an acre of carrots will double in the
quantum, of equally hearty provender, the product of
an acre of oats $ and frorri the nature of their veo-eta-
tion, the nice mode of cultivation, and even of taking
them up (all of which, expensive as they are, bear a
very inferior proportion to the value of a medium crop),
must leave the land, especially if taken off it in an early
period, so mellow for the plough, as to form a seed-bed
for barley equal to any fallow-tilth.”
Mr Onley’s desideratum was a substitute for oats to
feed horses ; of which great numbers are kept in his
county (Essex). Potatoes, he observes, are excellent
for small pork, when baked or boiled* mixed with a
little barley meal j but for large hogs, they are most
profitably given raw, if these have at the same time
the shack of the barn door in threshing season, &.c»
In the 5th volume he resumes the subject, and ac¬
quaints us, that he applied a single acre in his bean
field to the culture of carrots, which generally pro¬
duced 400 bushels 5 and this he considers as a small
produce. “ I am, however, sensible (says he) that
they will amply repay every expence of the finest cul¬
ture; and should, from their extensive utility on
sound, deep, and friable land, he everywhere attempted.
Some of my neighbours, who have been induced to
try them on rather a larger scale, with finer culture,
and fresher soil, have raised from 600 to 900 bushels
per acre, and applied them more profitably, as well
as more generally, than any other winter herbage, to 3I(j
deer, sheep, bullocks, cows, and horses. At the low- Superior i«
est calculation, from our little trials, they are comput-tur™Ps an^
ed to exceed turnips in value one-third, as to quantity oats’
of food : but are far superior in what arises from con¬
venience for the stable ; where to us they seem to be
a substitute for corn to all horses, at least such as are
not used in any quick work ; and partially so with
corn for those that are.”
In making a comparison betwixt the profit on oats
and carrots, Mr Onley found the latter exceed by no
less than 2I. 15s. 8d. per acre. His method of culti*
vation is to sow them in March or April ; to hoe them
three times, harrowing after each hoeing. Sometimes
he left them in the ground till after Christmas, taking
them up as wanted; but afterwards he took them up in
October, in dry days, putting them directly into small
upright cocks of 10 bushels each, covered entirely, with
the tops cut oft.—Thus, they appear to dry better
than in any other way, and bear the weather with very
little loss. If, after being thus dried, they are carried
into any barn or shed, it will be better, if they are in
large quantities, not to pack them close, on account
of the danger of heating, but rather to throw them
3 G Pr°-
4i 8
AGRICULTURE.
Practice
Agricul
ture,
to), xii.
317
Carrots
used to
colour
Cutter.
313
Carrots ad-:
Culture of promiscuously into heaps, with a little straw over them,
particular When perfectly dry, they do not in general require
Plants. any washing, except for horses regularly kept in the
stable.
This root has been found so generally valuable as a
substitute for grain in feeding horses, that its use in
that vyay is rapidly spreading into various parts of the
country. By the quantity of saccharine matter which
it contains, it is probably rendered extremely rich
and stimulating to the stomach of that delicate animal,
so that a less quantity of it goes to waste than of any
other food. We may remark, that the gentleman al¬
ready mentioned, Mr Onley, who had the merit ot
pressing upon the public attention the importance and
utility of this root, mentions an use to which we be-
li«ve it is not unfrequently applied iu the dairy. “ In
our dairies (savs he) as many carrots are bruised be¬
fore churning, as produce, squeezed through a cloth
into as much cream as makes eight or ten pounds ot but¬
ter, a half pint of juice j this adds somewhat to the co-
Ipur, richness, and flavour of winter butter j and we
think, where hay is allowed besides, contributes much
to counteracting the flavour from the feed of turnips.
At present (our carrot feed being exhausted) from tur¬
nips and hay, with this juice, our butter is equal to that
of the Epping dairies.”
^ We way .conclude by taking notice here of an ad-
oiisly culti- vantageous mode of cultivating carrots, by making use
rated in of them with a view to stir the ground in young planta-
yonngplan-yjojig. It was adopted by Thomas Walford, Esq. ol
fations Eirdbropk, Essex, who gives the following account
of it:—“It has been my constant practice for these
last five years, wherever I made a plantation of firs, or
deciduous trees, to sow the ground in the .spring with
carrots, which I have found not only pay part of my
expences, and frequently the whole, but much more
beneficial to the trees than any other method I had be¬
fore adopted.
“ When I make a plantation of deciduous trees, the
ground is dug two spits deep in October, and planted
immediately, leaving it in that state until the middle
or latter end of March, or beginning of April ; then,
if necessary, chop it over with a hoe, and sow my car¬
rots : if for firs, I do not dig the ground until March,
at which time I plant my trees, and sow the carrots,
having found my crop mere luxuriant and productive
upon ground fresh dug than that which was dug in the
autumn.— I give for digging 8d. per rod ; hoe only
twice 5 the produce is generally four bushels of clean
carrots, which I sell at 6d. per bushel, the buyer to
fetch them from their place of growth.
“ The soil in some places loose and hollow; the un-
fier stratum clay: in others a fine vegetable mould up¬
on a red loam.
“ I find, in taking up the carrots, less damage is done
to the young fibres of the trees, than by digging be¬
tween them ; for it is impossible, with the greatest care
of your servants, not to cut off some of them by dig¬
ging, and thereby injure the trees, besides leaving the
ground in no better state than it is after carrots; for
when the carrot is drawn, the cavity is filled immedi¬
ately with loose mould, through which the young fibres
will strike with great freedom, and very much accele¬
rate the growth of the trees.
3
4. PARSNIPS. Culture 0f
T _ particular
Parsnips have never in this country received from bus- Wants,
bandmen that attention to which they are well entitled,'
from the ease with which they are cultivated, and theTheculti.
great quantity of saccharine or nourishing matter vation of
they are known to contain, which certainly aboundsPai'sn>psto»
in them, in a much greater proportion than in almost
any other vegetable with which we are at present ac-^a#Apa
quainted. pm, voUr,
To cultivate this root (says Mr Hazard) so as top. 244*
make it advantageous to the farmer, it will be right to
sow the seed in the autumn immediately after it is
ripe ; by which means the plants will appear early the
following spring, and get strong before the weeds can
rise to injure them. Neither the seeds nor young
plants are ever materially injured by frosts; on which
account, as well as many others, the autumn is prefer¬
able to the spring sowing. The best soil for them is
a rich deep loam, and next to this sand. Ihey will
thrive well in a black gritty soil, but not in stone-
brash, gravel, or clay ; and they are always largest in
the deepest earth. If the soil be proper, they do not „Jo
require much manure. Mr Hazard obtained a very ^ jja.
good crop for three years upon the same piece ofzard’sme-
ground without using any ; but when he laid on about
40 cart loads of sand per acre upon a stiff loam, andtlvall0n‘
ploughed it in, he found it answer very well; whence he
concludes, that a mixture of soils may he proper for
this root. The seed may be sown in drills at about
18 inches distance from one another, that the plants
may be the more conveniently hand or horse-hoed;
and they will be more luxuriant, if they undergo a se¬
cond hoeing, and are carefully earthed, so as not to
cover the leaves. Such as have not ground to spare,
or cannot get it in proper condition in autumn, may
at that time sow a plot in their garden, and transplant
from thence in the latter end of April, or early in the
month of May following. The plants must be care¬
fully drawn, and the ground well pulverized by harrow¬
ing and rolling ; after which a furrow should be open¬
ed with the plough, about six or eight inches deep, in
which the plants should be regularly laid at the distance
of about ten inches from each other, taking care not
to let the root be bent, but for the plant to stand per¬
pendicular after the earth is closed about it, which
ought to he done immediately by means of persons
who should for this purpose follow the planter with a
hoe. Another furrow must be opened about 18 inches
from the former, in the same direction, and planted as
before; and so on in like manner until all the plants
are deposited, or the field be completely cropped j
and wlven the weeds appear, hoeing will be necessary,
and it will afterwards be proper to earth them ; but if
the leaves of the plants be covered with earth, the roots
will be injured. Parsnips ought not to be planted by
dibbling, as the ground thus becomes so hound, as sel¬
dom to admit the small lateral fibres with which these
roots abound to fix in the earth, by which they are pre¬
vented from expanding themselves, and never attain a
proper size. When circumstances are properly attend¬
ed to, there is little doubt that a crop of parsnips would
answer much better than a crop of carrots. rl hey are
equal, if not superior, in fattening pigs, as they make
their
art I. A G R I C
iltnre of their flesh whiter, and the animals themselves are more
irticular fond of these roots than of carrots. Horses eat them
*lantg. greedily when clean washed and sliced among bran,
’“vr““and thrive very well upon them; and black cattle are
said likewise to approve of them.
Though parsnips are little used in Britain, they are
highly esteemed in France. In Britanny they are
thought, as food for cattle, to be little inferior to wheat;
and cows fed with them are said to give as much milk,
and of as good quality, as in the summer months. In
the island of Jersey they have long been considered as
of the highest importance; and as the mode of culti¬
vating them there seems worthy of attention, we shall
here give an account of it, from a paper transmitted by
the Agricultural Society of Jersey to the British Board
of Agriculture.
lure of “ It; is imPossihle, say these gentlemen, to trace the
snips period when the cultivation of this plant was first intro-
!i beans duced amongst us. It has been known for several cen-
Jersejr turies, and the inhabitants have reaped such benefit
1 Gaern-therefrom, that, for fattening their cattle and pigs, they
prefer it to all the known roots of both hemispheres.
The cattle fed therewith yield a juicy and exquisite
meat. The pork and beef of Jersey are incontestably
equal, if not superior, to the best in Europe. We have
observed, that the beef in summer is not equal to that
in the autumn, winter, and spring periods, when the
cattle are fed with parsnips ; which we attribute to the
excellency of that root.
“ All animals eat it with avidity, and in preference
to potatoes. We are ignorant of the reason, having
never made any analysis of the parsnip. It would be
curious, interesting, and useful, to investigate its cha¬
racteristic principles : it is certain that animals are
more fond of it than of any other root, and fatten more
quickly. The parsnip possesses, without doubt, more
nutritious juices than the potato. It has been proved
that the latter contains eleven ounces and a half of wa¬
ter, and one gros of earthy substance, French weight;
therefore, there only remain four ounces and five gros
of nutritive matter. Probably the parsnip does not
contain near so much watery particles; nevertheless,
they digest very easily in the animal’s body. The cows
ied with hay and parsnips during winter yield butter
of a fine yellow hue, of a saffron tinge, as excellent as
if they had been in the most luxuriant pasture.”
These gentlemen proceed to state, that, in the island
°f Jersey, parsnips are not cultivated alone, but along
with beans, amongwhich last pease are sometimes mixed.
There are three modes of cultivation : 1st, With the
spade ; 2d, With the plough and spade ; and 3d, With
two ploughs, the one called the small and the other the
great plough. This last method, as being the most
economical and advantageous to the husbandman, is the
only one described. In the month of September, a
slight ploughing and preparation is sometimes given
to the field destined for beans and parsnips in the en¬
suing year; but more generally the whole work is
performed in high grounds about the middle of Febru¬
ary, and in the middle of March in low land. A light
plough cuts and turns the earth about four or five inches
deep ; then follows it a large plough constructed on
purpose, and only used for this operation, which elevates
the earth on the furrow laid open, and turns it over
that which the small plough turned up. The essential
U L T U R E.
point is to plough deep and to cover the clods over
again.
I he field thus prepared, is suffered to remain 1 c days,
after which it is very lightly harrowed. On the same
day, or on the ensuing, the beans are planted in the fol¬
lowing manner. Straight lines must be drawn from north
to south with a gardeners rake at 4*- feet distance. On
these straight lines, 19 inches in breadth, women plant
lour or five beans in rows 4 inches distant from each
other, or the beans are planted in double rows all over
the field, at the usual depth, and 12 feet distance from
each other, with the beans spaced out 18 inches from
each other. When all this is done, the parsnips arc
sown in broad-cast over the field, after which it is well
harrowed. In 15 days after, if the weather has been
warm and rainy, or in three weeks if it has been cold
and dry, the ground is harrowed again to cut up the
weeds. In five or six weeks the beans shoot out, and
the ground soon appears as if covered by hedges or
laid out in paths for walking; for in the spaces be¬
tween the lines where the beans were planted are as
many alleys, where women and children weed with
great facility. . They generally weed the ground twice,
and the operation is performed with a two-pronged fork,
such as is used in gardens. The first weeding is per¬
formed at the end of April or beginning of May, when
the plants must be cleared out if they are too thick.
When the beans are ripe, which is in August or
September, they are immediately plucked up, not to
incommode die parsnips. The crop of beans is not al¬
ways certain. It high winds or fogs prevail when
they are in flower, the produce will be scanty ; but
the parsnips in a manner never fail. They neither
dread the inclemency of the weather, nor are af¬
fected by the hardest frost, nor by any of those acci¬
dents which at times will instantly destroy a whole crop.
Parsnips grow till the end of September, but some
give them to cattle they wish to fatten in the begin¬
ning of September. The people of these islands consider
the parsnip as the most juicy and nutritious of all roots
known. Its cultivation is an excellent preparation
for wheat, which is sown there without manure after
parsnips, and yields a plentiful crop. It must be ob¬
served, that though this cultivation of parsnips is ex¬
pensive where the price of labour is high, no dung or
manure is necessary either for the parsnips or the wheat.
They reckon 20 perches of parsnips, with a little hay,
will fatten an ox of three or four years old, though
ever so lean ; he eats them in the course of three
months as follows : they are given at six in the morn¬
ing, at noon, and at eight at night, in rations of 40]!/.
each ; the largest are slit into three or four pieces ; but
not washed unless very much covered with earth. In
the intermediate hours, at nine in the morning, two in
the afternoon, and nine at night, a little hay is given.
Experience has shewn, that when cattle, pig’s, or poul¬
try, are fed with parsnips, they are sooner fattened and
are more bulky than with any other root or vegetable
whatever. rI he meat of such is most delicate and sa¬
voury. In spring the markets are furnished with the
best and fattest beef from their feeding on parsnips.
The crops of parsnips raised in Jersey and Guernsey are
very great. On an extent of 1000 feet, the produce of
a field of beans and parsnips is about 120blb. weight
of parsnips, Rouen measure, and 30 cabots or half
3 G 2 bushels
4*9
Culture of
particular
Plants.
Plants,
420 A G R I C U
Culture of bushels of beans, and three cabots and a half of pease ;
particular which altogether, according to the price at which these
articles are actually sold there, amount to the sum of
256 livres French currency. The following informa¬
tion was also received from the president of the Jersey
Society on 1st March 1796, viz. “ Since writing con¬
cerning the crop of beans and parsnips together, we
have found that an individual who cultivates parsnips
without sowing either pease or beans along with them
had a crop of 14,7601b. weight Rouen measure per
vergee.” The vergee is 40 perches in length and one
perch in breadth.
III. Plants cultivated for Leaves, or for both
Leaves and Roots.
1. Turnip-hooted Cabbage.
322
Cultivation This plant may deservedly be reckoned next in va-
nifrooted *ue to t*ie turnip itself. Its advantages, according to
eabbage'.1 Sir Thomas Beevor, are, “ that it affords food for cat¬
tle late in the spring, and resists mildew and frost,
which sometimes destroy the common turnip j” whence
he is of opinion that every farmer who cultivates the
common turnip should always have part ot his farm laid
out in the cultivation of this root. The importance
and value of turnip-rooted cabbages seem only to have
been lately ascertained. In the Bath Society papers
we have the following account of Sir Thomas Beevor’s
method of cultivating them j which from experience he
found to be cheaper and better than any other.
“ In the first or second week of June, I sow the
same quantity of seed, hoe the plants at the same size,
leave them at the same distance from each other, and
treat them in all respects like the common turnip. In
323 this method I have always obtained a plentiful crop of
Their utili- them j to ascertain the value of which I need only in-
ty and va- form y0U> tjlat on t[ie 23d day of April last, having
then two aci’es left of my crop, sound, and in great
perfection, I divided them by fold hurdles into three
parts of nearly equal dimensions. In the first part I
put 24 small bullocks of about 30 stone weight each
(141b. to the stone), and 30 middle-sized fat wethers,
which, at the end of the first week, after they had eaten
down the greater part of the leaves, and some part of
the roots, I shifted into the second division, and then
put 70 lean sheep into what was left of the first; these
fed off the remainder of the turnips left by the fat
stock $ and so they were shifted through the three di¬
visions, the lean stock following the fat as they wanted
food, until the whole was consumed.
“ The 24 bullocks and 30 fat wethers continued in
the turnips until the 21st of May, being exactly four
weeks j and the 70 lean sheep until the 29th, which is
one. day over four weeks : so that the two acres kept
me 24 small bullocks and no sheep four weeks (not
reckoning the overplus day of keeping the lean sheep) j
the value, at the rate of keeping at that season, cannot
he estimated in any common year at less than 4d. a-vveek
for each sheep, and is. 6d. per week for each bullock,
which would amount together to the sum of 14I. 10s. 8d.
for the two acres.
“ You will hardly, I conceive, think I have set the
price of keeping the stock at too high a rate } it is be¬
neath the price here in almost every spring, and in this
L T U R E. Practice.
last it would have cost double, could it have been pro- Culture tf
cured ; which was so far from being the case, that bun- particular
dreds of sheep and lambs here were lost, and the rest Plants,
greatly pinched, for want of food.
“ You will observe, gentlemen, that in the valua¬
tion of the crop above mentioned I have claimed no al¬
lowance for the great benefit the farmer receives by
being enabled to suffer his grass to get into a forward
growth, nor for the superior quality of these turnips
in fattening his stock ; both which circumstances must
stamp a new and a great additional value upon them.
But as their continuance on the land may seem to be
injurious to the succeeding crop, and indeed will de¬
prive the farmer totally of either oats or barley; so to
supply that loss I have always sown buck-wheat on the
first earth upon the land from which the turnips W'ere
thus fed off} allowing one bushel of seed per acre, for
which I commonly receive from five to six quarters per
acre in return. And that I may not throw that part
of my land out of the same course of tillage with the
rest, I sow my clover or other grass seeds with the
buck-wheat, in the same manner as with the oat or
barley crops, and have always found as good a layer
(ley) of it afterwards.
“ Thus you see, that in providing a most incompa¬
rable vegetable food for cattle, in that season of the
year in which the farmer is generally most distressed,
and his cattle almost starved, a considerable profit may
likewise be obtained, much beyond what is usually de¬
rived from his former practice, by the great produce
and price of a crop raised at so easy an expence as that
of buck-wheat, which with us sells commonly at the
same price as barley, oftentimes more, and but very
rarely for less.
“ The land on which I have usually sown turnip-root¬
ed cabbages is a dry mixed soil, worth 15s. per acre.”
To the preceding account the society have subjoin-Recom-
ed the following note: “ Whether ’we regard the im-niendatios
portance of the subject, or the clear and practical in. by the Bat
formation which the foregoing letter conveys, it may 0Clety•
he considered as truly interesting as any we have ever
been favoured with : and therefore it is recommended
in the strongest manner to farmers in general, that they
adopt a mode of practice so decisively ascertained to be
in a high degree judicious and profitable.”
To raise the turnip-rooted cabbage for transplanting,
the best method yet discovered is, to breast-plough aHdtnrnjp.root
burn as much old pasture as may be judged necessary ed cabbag'
for the seed bed } two perches well stocked with plantsfor Hans-
will be sufficient to plant an acre. The land shouldP*anl‘D*’
he dug as shallow as possible, turning the ashes in-, and
the seed should be sown the beginning of April.
The land intended for the plantation to be cultiva¬
ted and dunged as for the common turnip. About mid¬
summer (or sooner if the weather will permit) will be
a proper time for planting, which is best done in the
following manner: the land to be thrown into one-bout
ridges, upon the tops of which the plants are to be set,
at about 18 inches distance from each other. As soon
as the weeds rise, give a hand-hoeing j afterwards run
the ploughs in the intervals, and fetch a furrow from
each ridge, which after lying a fortnight or three
weeks, is again thrown back to the ridges j if the
weeds rise again, it is necessary to give them another
hand-hoeing.
If
Part I.
Culture of
particular
Plants.
A G R I C U L
3*5.
Compan¬
ion of tlie
juantity of
ood in this
md in the
-omraon
mrnip.
327
Other ex-
iieiiments.
. 323
fhsadvan-
iages at¬
tending
the cultiva¬
tion of this
idant.
If the young plants in the seed-bed should be attack¬
ed by the fly, sow wood-ashes over them when the dew
is on, which will effectually prevent the ravages they
would otherwise make.
In another letter from Sir Thomas Beevor, Bath
Papers, vol. viii. p. 489, he expresses his hope that the
turnip-rooted cabbages he had would last until he
should have plenty of grass for all his stock. To make
a comparative estimation of the quantity of food yield¬
ed by the turnip-rooted cabbage and the common tur¬
nip, he selected some of each kind, and having girted
them with as much accuracy as possible, he found, that
a turnip-rooted cabbage of 18 inches in circumference
weighed 51:1b. and a common turnip of the same size
only 3^lh.; on ti’ying others, the general result was
found to be in that proportion. Had they been weigh¬
ed with the tops, the superiority of the turnip-rooted
cabbage would have been greater, the tops of them be¬
ing remarkably bushy. They were weighed in the
month of March’, hut had this been done at Christmas,
our author is of opinion that the difference would not
have been so great; though he reckons this very cir¬
cumstance of their continuing so long to afford a nou¬
rishing food, an instance of their excellency above al¬
most any other vegetable whatever.
In the fourth volume of the same work, Sir Tho¬
mas gives an account of another experiment on five
acres of turnip-rooted cabbage, four of which were
eaten upon the field, the other was pulled up and car¬
ried to the stables and ox-houses. They were sown
and cultivated as other turnips ; the beasts were put to
them on the 12th of April, and continued feeding
upon them till the nth of May. The cattle fed for
this space of time were, 12 Scotch bullocks weighing
40 stone each j eight homebreds, two years old ; fif¬
teen cows full-sized j 40 sheep •, 18 horses j besides 40
store-hogs and pigs, which lived upon the broken
pieces and offal, without any other allowance, for the
whole four weeks. The whole value of the plant, ex¬
clusive of the feeding of the pigs, amounted, according
to our author’s calculation, to 18I.J and he says that
the farmers would willingly give this sum in the spring
for feeding as many cattle: “ because it enables them
to save the young shooting grass (which is so frequently
injured by the tread of the cattle in the frosty nights)
until it gets to such a length and thickness as to be
afterwards but little affected by the sumqaer’s drought.
Besides this, the tops or leaves are in the spring much
more abundant, and much better food than those of the
common turnip, as already observed j and they continue
in full perfection after all the common turnips are rot¬
ten or worthless.
The disadvantages attending the cultivation of tur¬
nip-rooted cabbages are, that they require a great deal
of time and pains to take them up out of the ground,
if they are to be carried off the field j and if fed where
they grow, it requires almost an equal labour to take
up the pieces left by the cattle. A great deal of earth
is also taken up along with the root5 and the substance
ot the latter is so firm and solid, that they must he cut
in two in order to enable the cattle to eat them. To
obviate some'of these objections, it will be proper to
sow the plants on rich and very light land j and as they
are longer iu coming to the hoe than the common tur-
T U R E. 421
nip, it will he proper to sow them about the beginning Culture af
of June. particular
In another experiment upon this plant by the same < Plants,
gentleman, the cabbages held out during the long and ^ ^
severe frost ot 1788 without the least injury, though ^rj,y^eiy
it destroyed three-fourths of all the common turnips in fanner
the neighbourhood. On the 21st of April 1789, theouRlitto
average produce of an acre was found to be somewhatc.u!t^vfto
more than 244 tons, though the tops had not sprout- 1 US ^ r
ed above three inches. Considering the precariousness
of turnips and other crops, Sir Thomas is decisively of
opinion, that all farmers ought to have as many turnip-
rooted cabbages as would afford and ensure them a full
provision for the cattle for about three or four weeks
during the latter part of the spring. This quantity he.
reckons sufficient, as the consumption, particularly
when drawn and carried off the land, is attended with
more trouble and expence than that of common turnips,
especially if the soil be wet and heavy. In another
letter, dated May 3. 1790, Sir Thomas Beevor once
more sets forth the advantages of having a crop of these
vegetables during the spring season. “ In consequence
(says he) of the very cold weather we have had here,
the grass is but just springing ; as the turnips are whol¬
ly eaten up, it occasions much distress among the far¬
mers for want of some green vegetable food for their
sheep and cattle j whereas, by the assistance of my tur¬
nip-rooted cabbages, I have abundance of the best and
most nutritive food that can be found them.” He then
proceeds to recommend their culture “ for the sup¬
port of almost all live stock for the three last weeks
of April, or first week of May, when the grass shoots
late.”
In the 4th volume of the Transactions of the So¬
ciety for encouraging Arts, Mr Bobins, who received
a premium for raising the greatest quantity of this
plant, informs us, that the soil on which it grew was
a stone braish, inclining to sand, not worth more than
1 os. per acre ; the preparation the same as for turnips.
The manure was a compost of earth and dung, which
he finds to answer better than dung. The seed was
sown about the beginning of April on a clean spot of
ground j and he commonly uses an old pasture where
the sheep fold has been in the winter, after taking away
the dung, and digging it very shallow j “ as the roots
of the young plants (says he) might soon reach the
dung or salts, which must consequently be left, in or¬
der to force them out of the fly’s way.” These in¬
sects, our author observes, are extremely fond of the
turnip-rooted cabbage j much mare so, he believes,
than of common turnips. About the middle of June
they should be planted out upon one-bout ridges raised
by a double plough made for the purpose. Seven thou¬
sand plants are sufficient for one acre; but if only six
are used, the roots will be the larger.
To determine how many sheep might be kept upon
an acre of turnip-rooted cabbage, our author shut up sheep fed
200 ewes with their lambs upon a piece of poor pasture an a.crc
land of no great extent ; the whole not exceeding ten
acres. One ton was found sufficient for keeping them i,ages.
in sufficient health for a day. On giving them, a larger
piece of ground to run over, though it had been eaten
all winter and late in the spring, yet, with this trifling
assistance, 13 tons of turnip-cabbage were made to serve
1 St.',
422
AGRICULTURE.
Culture of 18 days; at the end of which the ewes and lambs were
particular found very much improved, which could not have been
Piants. eXpected from four acres of turnips in the month of
April, the time that these were fed.
From some trials made on the turnip-rooted cabbage
at Cullen House in the north of Scotland, it appears
that the plant is adapted to the climate of eyery part
of our island. The first trial was made in the year
1784. The seeds were sown about the middle of
March in garden ground properly prepared. The cab¬
bages were transplanted about the middle of March
that year, into a dry light soil, well cleaned and dung¬
ed with rotten cow dung, in rows three feet distant
from each other, and at the distance of 20 inches in
the rows. They were kept very clean, and the earth
was hoed up to the roots of the plants ; by which
means they were probably prevented from attaining
the hardness they would otherwise have arrived at ;
though, after all, it was necessary to cut the roots in
two before the sheep could eat them. When thus cut,
the animals ate them greedily, and even preferred them
to every other food. The roots continued good for
at least a month after the common turnips were unfit
for use: some of them weighed from eight to ten
pounds, and a few of them more. Other trials have
since been made ; and it now' appears that the plant
will thrive very well with the ordinary culture of tur¬
nips in the open fields, and in the usual manner of sow¬
ing broad-cast. From a comparative trial made by
the earl of Fife upon this root wuth some others, the
quantities produced upon 100 square yards of ground
were as follows :
stone, lb.
Common turnips - 92 4
Turnip-rooted cabbage - 88 o
Carrots - . - 95 0
Root of scarcity - 77 0
The turnip-rooted cabbage was planted in lines 20
inches asunder ; the common turnips sown broad cast,
and hand-weeded, so that they came Up very thick,
being not more than three or four inches asunder when
full grown. Two cows were fed for six W'eeks with
the turnips, two with the turnip-rooted cabbage, and
two Avith the root of scarcity for an equal time : the
two fed with turnips gave most milk, and those with
the root of scarcity the least. His lordship observes
however, that carrots thrive better on his farm than
any other crop : that his horses had been fed on them
at the rate of tAVO pecks a-day, with no corn, and little
more than half the usual quantity of hay. “ They Avere
kept at Avork every day from seA'en to eight hours, and
W'ere never in better order.”
2. Swedish Turnip, or Roota Raga.
The roota baga, or SAvedish turnip, is a plant from
iwtabaga. great expectations have been formed. It is said
to be hardier than the common turnip, and of greater
sweetness and solidity. It also preserves its freshness
and succulence till a very late period of its growth,
even after it has produced seed ; on account of Avhich
property it has been recommended to the notice of
farmers as an excellent kind of succulent food for do¬
mestic animals in the spring of the year, Avhen common
turnips and most other winter crops have failed, and
AS*
Ot the
* The B,
before grass has got up to furnish an abundant bite for Culture r
feeding beasts. This peculiarity, so valuable, yet so particut*
singular as to have led many at first to doubt the fact, iT*Hnts
seems to be sufficiently ascertained by experiment. Dr v~'~'
J. Anderson* in particular informs us, that it “ begins
to send out its floAver-stems in the spring, nearly about T0|;
the same time Avith the common turnip ; but that the p.291,
root, in consequence of that change of state, suffers very
little alteration. I continued to use these turnips at
my table every day till towards the middle of May ;
and had I never gone into the garden myself, I should
not even then have suspected, from the taste or appear¬
ance of the bulb itself, that it had been shot at all.
The stems, hoAvever, at the season I gave over using
them, Avere from four to five feet high, and in full
flou'er. I should have continued the experiment longer,
had not the quantity I had left for that purpose been
exhausted, and a few only left for seed.
“ This experiment, hoAvever, fully proves, that this
kind of turnip may be employed as a succulent food for
cattle till the middle of May at least, in an ordinary-
year ; and I have not the smallest doubt but it will con¬
tinue perfectly good for that purpose till the end of
May in any season ; at which time grass and other
spring crops can easily be had for bringing beasts for¬
ward in flesh. I can therefore, Avithout hesitation, re¬
commend this plant to the farmer as a most valuable
spring feeding for cattle and sheep ; and for this pur¬
pose, I think no Avise farmer should he without a pro¬
portion of this kind of turnip to succeed the other sorts
after they fail. The profitable method of consuming
it, Avhere it is to be kept very late, is, I am convinced,
to cut off the tops with a scythe or sickle Avhen from one
foot to eighteen inches high, to induce it to send out
fresh stems, that Avill continue soft and succulent to the
end ; whereas, Avithout this process, the stems Avould
become sticky and useless.
“ I cannot, however, recommend this kind of tur¬
nip, from what I have yet seen, as a general crop; be¬
cause I think it probable, that unless in particular cir¬
cumstances, 'the common field turnips groiv to a much
larger size, and afford upon the Avhole a more Aveighty
crop. These, therefore, should still continue to be cul¬
tivated for Avinter use, the other being reserved only for
spring consumption.
“ Experiments are still Avanting to ascertain Avith
certainty the peculiar soil and culture that best agree
with this plant ; but from the feAv observations I have
hitherto had an opportunity of making upon it, it seems
to me probable, that it thrives better, and groivs to a
larger size, on damp clayey soil, than on light sandy
land. But I would not wish to be Understood as here
speaking positively ; I merely throw it out as a hint
for future observation : on spongy soil it prospers.
“ Though the uses of this as a garden plant are of
much smaller consequence than those aboA-e specified,
it may not be improper to remark, that its leaves form
a very sweet kind of greens at any time ; and merely
for the sake of the experiment, I caused some of these
to be picked off the stems of the plants coming to
seed, on the 4th of June, the king’s birth-day, Avhich
on being readied, Avere found perfectly sweet, Avithout
the smallest tendency to bitterness, Avhich most, il not
all, other kinds of greens that have been hitherto cul¬
tivated are knoivn to acquire after their stems are con-
siderablv
\
art I.
jtilttM-e of siderably advanced $ no family, therefore, can ever be
jrticukr Ht a loss for greens when they have any of this plant in
| plunis. see.(l.
“ A root of this kind of turnip was taken up this
day (June 15.) ; the seed-stalks were firm and woody,
the pods full formed, and in some of them the seeds
were nearly ripe. The root, however, was as soft
and succulent as at any former period of its growth ;
nor was the skin, as I expected, hard or wmody. It
was made ready and brought to the table : some per¬
sons there thought the taste as good, if not better, than
at any former period of its growth ; but I myself, per¬
haps through prejudice, thought it had not quite so
high a relish as in winter: At any rate, however, there
can be no doubt, that if ever it could be necessary, it
might, even now, be employed very properly as a feed-
133 cattle.”
jiltiuc of This vegetable, from its obvious utility, is gradually
eroou coming to be much used in various quarters of the
ating- island. In the Agricultural Survey of Nottingham-
msliire. shire, the following description of the modes in which
it has been successfully cultivated, is well worthy of
attention. “ The roota baga, or Swedish turnip, is
now cultivated by a few farmers in the district. It
appears to be superior to the common turnip in many
respects, particularly in hardiness, as it stood the last
severe winter without the least injury. It is eaten with
greediness by all animals, from the horse to the swine.
Sheep prefer it to all others ; but the material advan¬
tage that has been made of it, is the substituting it for
corn in the food of draught horses j in which it has
been found to answer the wish of every person who has
yet tried it. The turnips are put into a tub or bar¬
rel, and cut small with an instrument like a hoe, with
the blade put perpendicularly into the shaft; a man
will cut in one hour as much as six horses can eat in
twenty-four. The tops and bottoms are previously cut
off and given to the pigs. Horses that are hard work¬
ed, look full as well when fed with this turnip and very
little hay, as they formerly did when very high fed with
corn. The Swedish turnip should be sowed early, from
the 17th of May to the xoth of June.”—-The follow¬
ing information on the culture of the roota baga, is
iven in the same Survey, upon the authority of
. Daiken, Esq. of Nottingham.
Mr Daiken, about the loth of May 1794, sowed
about four acres with the seed of roota haga, about
gibs, per acre, on good sand land, worth 20s. an acre,
manured as for turnips, and having been ploughed
four or five times *, the rest of the field, to the amount
of nine acres in all, with common turnip and turnip-
rooted cabbage, all ,broad-cast. They were not trans¬
planted, but hoed out nine inches asunder, at three
hoeings, at 7s. 6d. an acre ; no other culture. In
November began to use them for horses, giving, at
first clover and rye-grass hay, oats and beans j but find¬
ing that the horses did well upon them, left off all
corn, and continued them on hay and the roots only j
fifteen were thus fed for about two months, were con¬
stantly hard worked, and preserved themselves in very
good condition. Mr Daiken is well convinced, that
in this application they were worth 30k an acre, that he
would in future, if he could not get them otherwise,
rather give that sum per acre for one or two acres,
than not have them for this use. They lost their leaves
423
entirely when the frost set in ; but the roots were not Cuiture of
the least affected, though the common turnips in the particular
same field were totally destroyed. Passengers passing , * lants-
through the field, cut holes in them, which did not let
the frost injure them ; nor were those hurt which were
damaged by cattle biting them. Some came to the
weight of i6lbs. and Mr Daiken thinks the average of
the crop 81bs. and much to exceed in tonnage per
acre common turnips.
Mr Daiken gave them also to hogs, cattle and sheep.
They are excellent for hogs 5 and sheep being let
into the field before the common turnips were de¬
stroyed, gave so decided a preference to the roota baga,
that they would not settle on the common turnips while
the others were to be had.
The method of giving them to horses is to cut off
the tap-root, to wash them, and to cut them roughly
with a perpendicular hoe, and then given directly,
without keeping them to dry. The horses ate them
with avidity, and seemed even to prefer them to corn.
Their qualities appear to be singular, as they bind
horses, instead of relaxing them as other roots do. One
mare was kept entirely upon them and straw, worked
every day, did well, and never looked better j this
mare was more bound by them than the rest. They
have a strong effect upon making the coats fine, and
one or two affected by the grease, were cured by them,
as they act as a strong diuretic. In this mode of
application, one acre maintained fifteen about two
months: and Mr Daiken is so well convinced of the
utility of the plant, as well.as many of his neighbours,
that he intends, and they also, to increase the cultiva¬
tion much.
Mr Daiken suspects there are two sorts of the roota
baga, because some, upon cutting, are white within, but
in general yellow7 j otherwise of the same external ap¬
pearance. The yellow is the best.
3. Turnip Cabbage.
This plant is as yet but little known. The seed is
said to have been brought from the Cape of Good
Hope by Mr Hastings, where it is very common, as
well as in Holland. It has also had an existence in
.Britain for many years, though not generally known.
It has a much greater, affinity to the cabbage than to
the turnip j and is very hardy, bearing the winter as
well, if not better, than common brocoli, and may
therefore be considered as a valuable acquisition to the
kitchen garden as well as for cattle. The best time Method of
for sowing it for the garden is the end of May or he-cultivation,
ginning of June, though none of the plants have ever
been observed to run to seed though sown ever so
early. Even though sown in August at the cauliflower
season, the greater part stood throughout the follow¬
ing summer, and did not seed till the second spring.
The plants require nearly the same management with
brocoli as to distance, transplanting, &c. and are usuT
ally most esteemed when young, and about the size of
a moderate garden turnip ; those sown in June will
continue all winter. The bulb must be stripped clean
of its thick fibrous rind j after which it may be used as
a common turnip, The crown or sprout is very good,
but especially in the spring, when they begin to run to
seed. Mr Broughton, from whose account in the Bath
Papers, vol. v. this article is taken, thinks that the tur¬
nip-cabbage
AGRICULTURE.
424
Culture of
particular
Plants.
AGRICULTURE.
Practice
335
Culture of
saLbaoe.
nip-cabbage Is more nutritious than the common turn-
nip. The largest bulb he measured was 23 inches cir¬
cumference j but the thickness of the rind is so great,
that some farmers imagined that the bulb would be too
hard for sheep. The objection, however, was obviated
by Mr Broughton, who gave some of the oldest and
toughest bulbs to bis sheep, and found that they not
only penetrated through the rind, but even devoured
the greatest part of it.
4. Cabbage.
The cabbage has been recommended by long expe¬
rience as an excellent food for cattle. Its uses as part
of human food are also well known. It is therefore an
interesting article in husbandry. It is easily raised, is
subject to few diseases, resists frosts more than turnip,
is palatable to cattle, and sooner fills them than turnip,
carrot, or potatoes.
The season for setting cabbage depends on the use
it is intended for. If intended for feeding in Novem¬
ber, December, and January, plants procured from
seed sown the end of July the preceding year must be
set in March or April. If intended for feeding in
March, April and May, the plants must be set the first
week of the preceding July, from seed sown in the end
of February or beginning of March the same year. The
late setting of the plants retards their growth; by which
means they have a vigorous growth the following
spring. And this crop makes an important link in the
chain that connects winter and summer green food.
Where cabbage for spring food happens to be neglect¬
ed, a few acres of rye, sown at Michaelmas, will supply
the want. After the rye is consumed, there is time
sufficient to prepare the ground for turnip.
And now to prepare a field for cabbage. Where the
plants are to be set in March, the field must be made
up after harvest in ridges three feet wide. In that form
let it lie all winter, to he mellowed with air and frost.
In March, take the first opportunity, between wet and
dry, to lay dung in the furrows. Cover the dung with
a plough, which will convert the furrow into a crown,
and consequently the crown into a furrow. Set the
plants upon the dung, distant from each other three
feet. Plant them so as to make a straight line cross
the ridges, as well as along the furrows, to which a
gardeners line stretched perpendicularly cross the fur¬
rows will be requisite. This will set each plant at the
distance precisely of three feet from the plants that sur¬
round it. The purpose of this accuracy is to give op¬
portunity for ploughing not only along the ridges, but
cross them. This mode is attended with three signal
advantages : it saves hand-hoeing, it is a more complete
dressing to the soil, and it lays earth neatly round every
plant.
If the soil be deep, and composed of good earth, a
trench-ploughing after the preceding crop will not be
amiss; in which case, the time for dividing the field
into three-feet ridges, as above, ought to be immediate¬
ly before the dunging for the plants.
If weeds happen to rise so close to the plants as not
to be reached by the plough, it will require very little
•labour to destroy them with a hand-hoe.
Unless the soil be much infested with annuals, twice
ploughing after the plants are set will be a sufficient
dressing. The first removes the earth from the plants*
the next, at the distance of a month or so, lays it Culture ot
back. . particular
Where the plants are to he set in July, the field , F anU^
must be ribbed as directed for barley. It ought to ^ 'r~“
have a slight ploughing in June before the planting, in
order to loosen the soil, but not so as to bury the sur¬
face-earth ; after which the three-feet ridges must be
formed, and the other particulars carried on as direct¬
ed above with respect to plants that are to he set in
March.
In a paper already quoted from those of the Bath
Society, Scots cabbages are compared, as to their uti¬
lity in feeding cattle, with turnips, turnip-rooted cab¬
bage, and carrots. In this trial the cabbages stand
next in value to the carrots ; and they are recommend¬
ed as not liable to be affected by frost, if they he
of the true flat-topped firm kind. Fifty-four tons Qua^ity
have been raised upon an acre of ground not worth raised on a
more than 12 shillings. There is likewise an advan-acre, &c, i
tage attending the feeding of cattle with cabbages, viz.
that their dung is more in proportion than when fed
with turnips or with hay ; the former going olf more
by urine, and the latter having too little moisture.
They also impoverish the ground much less than grain.
Mr Billingsley accounts 46 tons per acre a greater
crop than he ever read of; but Mr Vagg, in the 4th
volume of Bath papers, give an account of a crop for
which he received a premium from the Society, which
was much superior to that of Mr Billingsley. Its ex¬
tent was 12 acres ; the produce of the worst was 42,
and of the best 68 tons. They were manured with a
compost of lime, weeds, and earth, that lay under, the
hedges round the field, and a layer of dung, all mixed
and turned together. About 25 cart loads of this
were spread upon an acre with the usual ploughing
given to a common summer fallow; but for this he says,
“ admitting such crop to exhaust the manure in some
degree by its growth, an ample restoration will be
made by its refuse ploughed in, and by the stirring
and cleaning of the ground.” The whole expence of
an acre, exclusive of the rent, according to Mr Vagg’s
calculation, amounts to il. 14s. id. only four ounces of
seed being requisite for an acre. He recommends sow¬
ing the seed about the middle of August, and transplant¬
ing the young cabbages where they may be sheltered
from the frost ■; and to the neglect of this he ascribes
the partial failure, or at least inferiority of one part
of his ground in the crop just mentioned, the young
plants not being removed till near midsummer, and
then in so dry a time, that they were almost scorched
up. 337
In the Farmer’s Magazine, vol. ii. p. 217. we have Of wait;
several pertinent remarks upon the culture of this use- lag ca')
ful plant, particularly with regard to watering. “ It£e8,
is a rule (says this correspondent) never to water the
plants, let the season be as dry as it may : insisting
that is entirely useless. If the land is in fine tilth
and well dunged, this may be right, as the expence
must be considerable; but it is probable, in very dry
seasons, when the new set plants have nothing but a
burning sun on them, that watering would save vast
numbers, and might very well answer the expence, if
a pond is near, and the work done with a water-cart.”
He takes notice also of another use of cabbages, which
has not met with the attention it merits, viz. the
planting
ind di-
U'ict.
339
distance at
'laced.
340
\Iethod of
Part I. A G R
Cultme of planting of lands where turnips have failed. A late
particular sown crop of these seldom turns to any account; but
Plants, cabbages planted on the ground without any plough-
jng vvould prove very beneficial for sheep late in the
spring $ in all probability (unless on light, sandy, or
limestone soils) of greater value than the turnips, had
they succeeded.
abbages Mihail observes, that in the midland district, a
ultivated valuable sort of large green cabbage “ is propagated, if
I n the mid- not raised, by Mr Bakewell, who is not more celebra¬
ted for his breed of rams than for his breed of cabba¬
ges. Great care is observed here in raising the seed,
being careful to sufl’er no other variety of the brassica
tribe to blow near seed cabbages j by which means
they are kept true to their kind. To this end, it is
said that some plant them in a piece of wheat; a good
method, provided the seed in that situation can be pre¬
served from birds.”
luck ^ The advantage of having large cabbages is that of
1 ".tit to be being able to plant them wide enough from each other,
to admit of their being cleaned with the plough, and
yet to afford a full crop. The proper distance depends
in some measure on the natural size of the species and
the strength of the soil; the thinner they stand, the
larger they will grow : but our author is of opinion
that cabbages, as well as turnips, are frequently set
out too thin. Four feet by two and a half, according
to Mr Marshall, are a full distance for large cabbages
on a rich soil.
We think it of importance to take notice of the fol-
ran^?nt" lowing mode of transplanting cabbages, or earthing
.(fthino- them, as being consistent with the best mode of prac-
hem. tice, and coming from the most respectable practical
Anmls of authority, Mr George Cully of Fenton. “ We plant
h Agricul- tfje cabbages, says he, not only in right lines but equi-
’ ,xy'distant every way, so that we can plough between the
rows, both long-ways and cross over ■, which, by loos¬
ening the earth so effectually on all sides, very much pro¬
motes their growth. But the matter I wished to inform
you of, is the taking them up by the roots in the au¬
tumn whenever they have completed their growth, and
putting them into the nearest stubble field you have,
where a plough is ready to draw a straight furrow in
the most convenient place ; and at 20 yards distance,
more or less, the ploughman makes another furrow pa¬
rallel to the first. The cabbagesjvare now turned out of
the cai’ts as conveniently as may fife fora sufficient num¬
ber of women to lay them along these furrows as close
one to another as possible. The ploughman begins a-
gain where he first started, and turns a large furrow up¬
on the cabbages, which is trodden down and righted by
one, two, or more, as occasion requires, with each a
spade in his hand to assist where the plough has by
chance or accident not thrown earth enough. Thus the
work goes on till all is finished.
“ We think we derive two advantages by the above
process. In the first place, the cabbages keep suffici¬
ently well through the winter in their new situation,
while they do not draw or exhaust the land so much
where they were growing: and, secondly, that land is
at liberty to be sown with wheat as soon as cleared of
the cabbages •, which grain, in general, answers well
How^pro- afCer that green croP”
tectcd from Babbages and greens in general are apt to be infest-
oaterpil. ed by caterpillars. They may usually however be pro-
1 3 Vol. I. Fart II. * f
I C U L T U R E.
tected against those vermin by pulling off the large
undermost leaves, which may be given to cows in the
month of August, or when the common white butterflies
begin to appear in numbers. These butterflies lay
their eggs, which produce the cabbage caterpillar, on
the under side of the largest leaves of the cabbage
plants. There is also said to be another remedy. It
consists of sowing beans among the cabbages, which will
greatly prevent the breeding of these worms 5 for it is
said that the butterflies have an antipathy to the flavour
of beans.
5. The Root of Scarcity.
425
342
The racine de disette, or root of scarcity (Beta ci- Culture of
cla), delights in a rich loamy land well dunged. It is1*16 r?ot
directed to be sown in rows, or broad-cast, and as soonscarclty'
as the plants are of the size of a goose quill, to be trans¬
planted in rows of 18 inches distance, and 18 inches
apart, one plant from the other : care must be taken
in the sowing, to sow very thin, and to cover the seed,
which lies in the ground about a month, an inch only.
In transplanting, the root is not to be shortened, but the
leaves cut at the top; the plant is then to be planted
with a setting stick, so that the upper part of the root
shall appear about half an inch out of the ground : this
last precaution is very necessary to be attended to.
These plants will strike root in twenty-four hours, and
a man a little accustomed to planting will plant with
ease iScoor 2000 a-day. In the seed-bed, the plants,
like all others, must be kept clear of weeds : when
they are planted out, after once hoeing, they will take
care of themselves, and suffocate every kind of weed
near them.
The best time to sow the seed is from the beginning
of March to the middle of April: it is, however, ad¬
vised to continue sowing every month until the begin¬
ning of July, in order to have a succession of plants.
Both leaves and roots have been extolled as excellent
both for man and beast. This plant is said not to be
liable, like the turnip, to be destroyed by insects j for
no insect touches it, nor is it affected by excessive
drought, or the changes of seasons. Horned cattle,
horses, pigs, and poultry, are exceedingly fond of it
when cut small. The leaves may be gathered every
12 or 15 days j they are from 30 to 40 inches long,
by 22 to 25 inches broad. This plant is excellent for
milch cow's, when given to them in proper proportions,
as it adds much to the quality as well as quantity of
their milk j but care must be taken to proportion the
leaves with other green food, otherwise it would abate
the milk, and fatten them too much, it being of so ex¬
ceeding a fattening quality. To put all these proper¬
ties beyond doubt, however, further experiments are
wanting.
Sect. IV. Culture of Grass.
The latter end of August, or the beginning of Sep- qj.
tember, is the best season for sowing grass seeds, as there ,]own
is time for the roots of the young plants to fix them-to grass,
selves before the sharp frosts set in. It is scarce neces¬
sary to say, that moist weather is best tor sowing j the
earth being then warm, the seed will vegetate immedi¬
ately ; but if this season prove unfavourable, they will
do very well the middle of March following.
jH If
AGRICULTURE. Practice.
Culture of If you would have hoe pasture, never sow on foul
Grass, land. " On the contrary, plough it well, and clear it
—v—front the roots of couch-grass, rest-harrow, fern, broom,
and all other noxious weeds. If these are suffered to
remain, they will soon get above and destroy your
voting grass. Rake these up in heaps, and burn them
on the land, and spread the ashes as a manure. These
ploughings and harrowings should be repeated in dry
weather. And if the soil be clayey and wet, make
some under-drains to carry off the water, which, if suf¬
fered to remain, will not only chill the grass, hut make
it sour. Before sowing, lay the land as level and fine
as possible. If your grass seeds are clean (which should
always be the case), three bushels will be sufficient per
acre. When sown, harrow it in gently, and roll it in
with a wooden roller. When it comes up, fill up all
the bare spots by fresh seed, which, if rolled to fix it,
will soon come up and overtake the rest.
In Norfolk they sow clover with their grasses, par¬
ticularly with rye-grass j but neither of these kinds will
last long in the land. Where you intend it for a conti¬
nuance, it is better to mix only small white .Dutch clo¬
ver, or marl grass, with your other grass seed, and not
more than eight pounds to an acre. These are abiding
plants, spread close on the surface, and make the sweet¬
est feed of any for cattle. In the following spring, root
up thistles, hemlock, or any large plants that appear.
The doing this while the ground is soft enough to per¬
mit your drawing them up by the roots, and before they
seed, will save you infinite trouble afterwards.
Some sow barley with their grasses, which they sup¬
pose to be useful in shading them, without considering
how much the corn draws away the nourishment from
the land.
Others take their seeds from a foul hay rick 5 by
which means, besides filling the land with rubbish and
weeds, what they intend for dry soils may have come
from moist, where it grew naturally, and vice versa.
The consequence is, that the ground, instead of being
covered with a good thick sward, is filled with plants
Oiffertmi unnatural to it. The kinds of grass most eligible for
iiinds of pasture lands are, the annual meadow, creeping, and
jrass, ]hie bent, the fox’s-tail, and the crested dog’s-tail, the
poas, the fescues, the vernal oat-grass, and the ray or
rye-graas. We do not, however, approve of sowing
all these kinds together j for not to mention their ri¬
pening at different times, by which means you can ne¬
ver cut them all in perfection and full vigour, no kind
of cattle are fond of all alike.
Horses will scarcely eat hay which oxen and cows
will thrive upon $ sheep are particularly fond of some
kinds, and. refuse others. The darnel-grass, if not
at before several of the other kinds are ripe, becomes
so hard and wiry in the stalks, that few cattle care to
eat it.
As the subject of pastures is very important, we shall
first take notice of the general mode of improving or¬
dinary pastures, and of the particular grass plants that
ought to be cultivated in them. After which we shall
mention the celebrated modern improvements upon
grass lands, by flooding them artificially with water.
Pasture land is of such advantage to husbandry, that
many prefer it even to corn land, because of the small
Ward and labour that attend it; and as it lays the
foundation for roost of the profit that is expected from
3
the arable land, because of the manure afforded by Culture of
the cattle which are fed upon it. Pasture ground is Grass,
of two sorts : the one is meadow land, which is often ^—v—^
overflowed ; and the other is upland, which lies high
and dry. The first of these will produce a much
greater quantity of hay than the latter, and will not
require manuring or dressing so often : but then the
hav produced on the upland is much preferable to the
other} as is also the meat which is fed in the upland
more valued than that which is fatted in rich mea¬
dows ; though the latter will make the fatter and
larger cattle, as is seen by those which are brought
from the low rich lands in Lincolnshire. But where
people are nice in their meat, they will give a much
larger price for such as hath been fed on the downs
or in short upland pasture, than for the other which
is much larger. Besides this, dry pastures have an
advantage over the meadows, that they may be fed
all the winter, and are not so subject to poach in
wet weather \ nor will there be so many bad weeds
produced $ which are great advantages, and do in
a great measure recompense for the smallness ol the
crop. ,, 345
The first improvement of upland pasture is, by fen-How to im
cing it. But in the fencing of land, the inclosure must “P-
not be made too small, especially where the hedge rows
are planted with trees ; because, when the trees are ad¬
vanced to a considerable height, they will spread over
the land ; and where they are close, will render the
grass so sour, that instead of being of an advantage, it
will greatly injure the pasture.
The next improvement of upland pasture is, to make
the turf good, where, either from the badness of the
soil, or for want of proper care, the grass hath been
destroyed by rushes, bushes, or mole-hills. Where the
surface of the land is clayey and cold, it may be im¬
proved by paring it off, and burning it; but if it is a
hot sandy land, then chalk, lime, marl, or clay, are
very proper manures to lay upon it; but these should be
laid in pretty good quantities, otherwise they will he
of little service to the land.
If the ground is overrun with bushes or rushes, it
will he of great advantage to the land to grub them
up towards the latter part of summer, and after they
are dried to burn them, and spread the ashes over the
ground just before the autumnal rains ; at which time
the surface of the laftd should he levelled, and sown
with grass seed, which will come up in a short time,
and make good grass the following spring. So also,
when the land is full of mole-hills, these should be pa¬
red off, and either burnt for the ashes, or spread im¬
mediately on the ground when they are pared off, ob¬
serving to sow the bai’e patches with grass seed just as
the autumnal rains begin.
Where the land has been thus managed, it will he
of great service to roll the turf in the months of Fe¬
bruary and March with a heavy wooden roller; always
observing to do it in moist weather, that the roller
may make an impression ; this will render the surface
level, and make it much easier to mow the grass than
when the ground lies in hills ; and will also cause the
turf thicken, so as to have what people usually
term a {rood bottom. The grass likewise will be the
sweeter for this husbandry, and it will be a great help
to destroy bad weeds.
Another
Part L
Cultur* of Another improvement of upland pastures is the
Crass. ^ feeding of them; for where this is not practised, the
land must be manured, at least every third year ; and
where a farmer hath much arable land in his posses»
sion, he will not care to part with his manure to the
pasture. Therefore every farmer should endeavour to
proportion his pasture to his arable land, especially
where manure is scarce, otherwise he will soon find
his error ; for the pasture is the foundation of all the
profit which may arise from the arable land.
Whenever the upland pastures are mended by ma¬
nure, there should be a regard had to the nature of the
soil, and a proper sort of manure applied: as for in¬
stance, all hot sandy land should have a cold manure j
neats dung and swines dung are very proper for such
lands 5 but for cold lands, horse-dung, ashes, and other
warm manures, are proper. And when these are
applied, it should be done in autumn, before the rains
have soaked the ground, and rendered it too soft to
cart on ; and it should be carefully spread, breaking
all the clods as small, as possible, and then harrowed
with bushes, to let it down to the roots of the grass.
When the manure is laid on at this season, the rains in
winter will wash it down, so that the following spring
the grass will receive the advantage of it.
There should also be great care taken to destroy
the weeds in the pasture every spring and autumn :
for, where this is not practised, the weeds will ripen
their seeds, which will spread over the ground, and
thereby fill it with such a crop of weeds as will soon
overbear the grass, and destroy it; and it will be very
difficult to root them out after they have gotten such
possession, especially ragwort, and such other weeds as
have down adhering to their seeds.
The grass which is sown in these upland pastures
seldom degenerates, if the land is tolerably good; where¬
as the low meadows, on which water stagnates in win¬
ter, in a few years turn to a harsh rushy grass, though
the upland will continue a fine sweet grass for many
years without renewing.
There is no part of husbandry of which the farmers
are in general more ignorant than that of the pasture :
most ofThem suppose that when old pasture is ploughed
up, it can never be brought to have a good sward a-
gain j so their common method of managing their land
after ploughing, is to sow with their crop of barley some
grass seeds as they call them j that is, either the red
clover, which they intend to stand two years after the
corn is taken off the ground, or rye-grass mixed with
trefoil j but as all these are at most but biennial plants,
whose roots decay soon after their seeds are perfected,
so the ground having no crop upon it, is again ploughed
for corn ; and fhis is the constant round which the lands
are employed in by the better sort of farmers.
But whatever may have been the practice of these
people, it is certainly possible to lay down lands which
have been in tillage with grass, in such a manner as that
the sward shall be as good, if not better, than any na¬
tural grass, and of as long duration. But this is never
to be expected in the common method of sowing a crop
of corn with the grass seeds ; for, whenever this has
been practised, if the corn has succeeded well, the
grass has been very poor and weak 5 so that if the land
has not been very good, the grass has scarcely been
worth saving *, for the following year it has produced
427
hut little hay, and the year after the crop is worth Culture of
little, either to mow or feed. Nor can it be expected Grass,
to be otherwise, for the ground cannot nourish two J
crops $ and if there were no deficiency in the land, yet
the corn being the first and most vigorous of growth,
will keep the grass from making any considerable pro¬
gress, so that the plants will be extremely weak, and
but very thin, many of them which come up in the
spring being destroyed by the corn ; for wherever there
are roots of corn, it cannot be expected there should
Jie any grass. Therefore the grass must he thin, and
if the land is not in good h>eart, to supply the grass
with nourishment, that the roots may branch out lifter
the corn is gone, there cannot be any considerable
crop of clover; and as their roots are biennial, many
of the strong plants will perish soon after they are
cut; and the weak plants, which had made but little
progress before, will be the principal part of the crop
for the succeeding year j which is frequently not worth
standing. ^
Therefore, when ground is laid down for grass,Howto
there should be no crop of any kind sown with thesow upland
seed, or at least the crop should be sown very thin,
and the land should be well ploughed and cleaned from
weeds, otherwise the weeds will come up the first, and
grow so strong as to overbear the grass, and if they
are riot pulled up will entirely spoil it. The best sea¬
son to sow the grass seeds upon dry land, when no
other crop is sown with them, is about the middle of
September or sooner, if there is an appearance of rain :
for the ground being then warm, if there happen some
good showers of rain after the seed is sown, the grass
will soon make its appearance, and get sufficient root¬
ing in the ground before winter ; so will not be in dan¬
ger of having the roots turned out of the ground by
frost, especially if the ground is well rolled before the
frost comes on, which will press it down, and fix
the earth close to the roots. Where this hath not
been practised, the frost has often loosened the ground
so much, as to let in the air to the roots of the grass,
and done it great damage j and this has been brought
as an objection to the autumnal sowing of grass ; hut
it will be found to have no weight if the above dii’ec-
tion is practised : nor is there any hazard of sowing
the grass at this season, but that of dry weather after
the seeds are sown ; for if the grass comes up well,
and the ground is well rolled in the end of October, or
the beginning of November, and repeated again the
beginning of March, the sward will be closely joined
at bottom, and a good crop of hay may be expected
the same summer. But where the ground cannot be
prepared for sowing at that season, it may be perform¬
ed the middle or latter end of March, according to
the season’s being early or late j for, in backward
springs, and in cold land, we have often sowed the
grass in the middle of April with success ; but there is
danger, in sowing late, of dry weather, and especially
if the land^is light and dry; for we have seen many
times the whole surface of the ground removed by
strong winds at that season ; so that the seeds have been
driven in heaps to oue side of the field. Therefore,
whenever the seeds are sown late in the spring, it will
be proper to roll the ground well soon after the seeds
are sown, to settle the surface, and prevent its being re-
•moved.
3 H 2 Th*
AGRICULTURE.
428
A G R I C
Culture of
Grass. pose,
The sorts of seeds which are the best for this pur-
are, the best sort of upland hay seeds, taken
  ^ from the cleanest pastures, where there are no bad
weeds if this seed is sifted to clean it from rubbish,
three bushels will be sufficient to sow an acre of land.
The other sort is the trifolium pratense album, which is
commonly known by the names white Dutch clover, or
white honeysuckle grass. Eight pounds of this seed will
be enough for one acre of land. The grass seed should
be sown lirst, and then the Dutch clover seed may be
afterwards sown $ but they should not be mixed toge¬
ther, because the clover seeds being the heaviest wTill
fall to the bottom, and consequently the ground will be
unequally sown.
When the seeds are come up, ii the land should
produce many weeds, these should be drawn out before
they grow so tall as to overbear the grass ; for where
this has been neglected, the weeds have taken such
possession of the ground as to keep down the grass,
and starve it \ and when these weeds have been suffer¬
ed to remain until they have shed their seeds, the land
has been so plentifully stocked with them as entirely
to destroy the grass ; therefore it is one of the principal
parts of husbandry never to suffer weeds to grow on
the land.
Advantages If the ground is rolled two or three times at proper
of rolling distances after the grass is up, it will press down the
grass.
gl¬
and cause it to make a thicker bottom 5 for, as
the Dutch clover will put out roots from every joint
of the branches which are near the ground, so, by
pressing down of the stalks, the roots will mat so close¬
ly together, as to form a sward so thick as to cover the
whole surface of the ground, and form a green carpet,
and will better resist the drought. For if we do but
examine the common pastures in summer, in most of
which there are patches of this white honeysuckle grass
growing naturally, we shall find these patches to be the
only verdure remaining in the fields. And this, the
farmers in general acknowledge, is the sweetest feed for
all sorts of cattle j yet never had any notion of propa¬
gating it by seeds, nor has this been long practised in
England.
As the white clover is an abiding plant, so it is cer¬
tainly the very best sort to sow, where pastures are
laid down to remain ; for as the hay-seeds which are
taken from the best pastures will be composed of va¬
rious sorts of grass, some of which may be but annual,
and others biennial } so, when those go off, there will
be many and large patches of ground left bare and na¬
ked, if there is not a sufficient quantity of the white
clover to spread over and cover the land. Therefore
a good sward can never be expected where this is not
sown 5 for in most of the natural pastures, we find this
plant makes no small share of the sward j and it is equal¬
ly good for wet and dry land, growing naturally upon
gravel and clay in most parts of England : which is a
plain indication how easily this plant may be cultivated
to great advantage in most sorts of land throughout this
kingdom.
Therefore the true cause why the land which has
been in tillage is not brought to a good turf again, in
the usual method of husbandry, is, from the farmers
not distinguishing which grasses are annual from those
which are perennial : for if annual or biennial grasses
are sown, these will of course soon decay ; so that,
2
U L T U R E. Practice.
unless where some of their seeds may have ripened and Culture ot
fallen, nothing can be expected on the land but what Grass,
will naturally come up. Therefore this, with the co-—y—j
vetous method of laying down the ground with
a crop of corn, has occasioned the general failure
of increasing the pasture in many parts of Britain,
where it is now much more valuable than any arable
land.
After the ground has been sown in the manner be¬
fore directed, and brought to a good sward, the way
to preserve it good is, by constantly rolling the ground
with a heavy roller, every spring and autumn, as hath
been before directed. This piece of husbandry is rarely
practised by farmers j but those who do, find their ac¬
count in it, for it is of great benefit to the grass. Ano¬
ther thing should also be carefully performed, which is,
to cut up docks, dandelion, knapweed, and all such bad
weeds, by their roots every spring and autumn ; this will
increase the quantity of good grass, and preserve the
pastures in beauty. Dressing of these pastures every
third year is also a good piece of husbandry •, for other¬
wise it cannnot be expected the ground should continue
to produce good crops. Besides this, it will be neces¬
sary to change the seasons of mowing, and not to mow
the same ground every year, but to mow one season
and feed the next} for where the ground is every year
mown, it must be constantly dressed, as are most of the
grass grounds near London, otherwise the ground will
be soon exhausted.
Culmiferous grasses might be divided into two ge-Culmife-
neral classes for the purposes of the farmer, that itrovugrasu
might be of use for him to attend to 5 viz. 1st, Those
which, like the common annual kinds of corn, run
chiefly to seed-stalks j the leaves gradually decaying as
they advance towards perfection, and becoming totally
withered, or falling off entirely, when the seeds are
ripe. Bye-grass belongs to this class in the strictest
sense. To it likewise may be assigned the veimal grass,
dogs-tail grass, and fine bent grass. 2dly, Those whose
leaves continue to advance even after the seed-stalks are
formed, and retain their verdure and succulence during
the whole season, as is the case with the fescue and poa j Tracis
tribes of grasses, whose leaves are as green and succu-relatingh
lent when the seeds are ripe and the flower-stalks fad- ^uU
ing, as at any other time.
“ It is wonderful, Mr Stillingfleet ;£ remarks, to see Culpable
how long mankind have neglected to make a proper negligenci
advantage of plants of such importance, and which, in 0* farm^rl
almost every country, are the chief food of cattle.aboutt e
The farmer, for want of distinguishing and selecting ^in(js 0f
grasses for seed, fills his pastures either with weeds or grasses,
bad or improper grasses 5 when, by making a right
choice, after some trials, he might be sure of the best
grass, and in the greatest abundance that his land ad¬
mits of. At present, if a farmer wants to lay down
his land to grass, what does he do ? he either takes
his seeds indiscriminately from his own foul bay rack,
or sends to his next neighbour for a supply. By this
means, besides a certain mixture of all sorts of rubbish,
which must necessarily happen, if he chances to have
a large proportion of good seeds, it is not unlikely but
that what he intends for dry land may come from moist,
where it grew naturally, and the contrary. This is
such a slovenly method of proceeding, as one would
think could, not possibly prevail universally : yet this
is
Part I.
S Culture of ^ie case as gras3es except the darnel-grass, and
Grass, what is known in some few counties by the name of
  /——'the Suffolk-grass; and this latter instance is owing, I
believe, more to the soil than any care of the husband¬
man. Now, would the farmer be at the pains of se¬
parating once in his life half a pint or a pint of the
different kinds of grass seeds, and take care to sow
them separately, in a very little time he would have
wherewithal to stock his farm properly, according to
the nature of each soil, and might at the same time
spread these seeds separately over the nation, by sup¬
plying the seed shops. The number of grasses fit for
the farmer is, I believe, small ; perhaps half a dozen
or talf a score are all he need to cultivate j and how
small the trouble would be of such a task, and how
great the benefit, must be obvious to every one at first
sight. Would not any one be looked on as wild who
should sow wheat, barley, oats, rye, pease, beans,
vetches, buck-wheat, turnips, and weeds of all sorts
together ? yet how is it much less absurd to do what is
equivalent in relation to grasses P Does it not import
the farmer to have good hay and grass in plenty ?
and will cattle thrive equally on all sorts of food ? We
know the contrary. Horses will scarcely eat hay
that will do well enough for oxen and cows. Sheep
are particularly fond of one sort of grass, and fatten
upon it faster than any other, in Sweden, if we may
give credit to Linnaeus. And may they not do the
same in Britain P How shall we know till we have
tried ?”
unds of grasses commonly sown for pasture, for hay, or
I ;iasj com- to cut green for cattle, are red clover, white clover,
j nonly yellow clover, rye grass, narrow-leaved plantane, com¬
monly called ribwort, sainfoin, and lucerne.
Red clover is of all the most proper to be cut green
for summer food. It is a biennial plant when suffered
to perfect its seed $ but when cut green, it will last
three years, and in a dry soil longer. At the same
time the safest course is to let it stand but a single year:
if the second year’s crop happen to be scanty, it proves,
like a bad crop of pease, a great encourager of weeds,
by the shelter it affords them.
Here, as in all other crops, the goodness of seed is of
importance. Choose plump seed of a purple colour, be¬
cause it takes on that colour when ripe. It is red when
hurt in the drying, and of a faint colour when unripe.
Jfrdclo- Red clover is luxuriant upon a rich soil, whether
F «£. clay> loam or gravel: it will grow even upon a moor
when properly cultivated. A wet soil is its only bane j
lor there it does not thrive.
To have red clover in perfection, weeds must be ex¬
tirpated, and stones taken off-. The mould ought to
be made as fine as harrowing can make it; and the
surface be smoothed with a light roller, if not suffi¬
ciently smooth without it. This gives opportunity for
distributing the seed evenly ; which must be covered
by a small harrow with teeth no larger than those of a
garden rake, three inches long, and six inches asun-
Plate ^er ** R1 harrowing, the man should walk behind
’HI, fig. 7. with a rope in his hand fixed to the back part of the
harrow, ready to disentangle it from stones, clods, tur¬
nip or cabbage roots, which would trail the seed, and
displace it.
Nature has not determined any precise depth for the
seed of red clover more than of other seed. It will
429
grow vigorously from two inches deep, and it will grow Culture of
when barely covered. Half an inch may be reckoned Ouss.
the most advantageous position in clay soil, a whole ' ~v —'
inch in what is light or loose. It is a vulgar error, that
smalt seed ought to be sparingly covered. Misled by
that error, farmers commonly cover their clover seed
with a bushy branch of thorn ; which not only covers
it unequally, but leaves part on the surface to wither
in the air.
The proper season for sowing red clover, is from the
middle of April to the middle of May. It will spring
from the first of March to the end of August 5 but such
liberty ought not to be taken except from necessity.
There cannot be a greater blunder in husbandry than
to be sparing of seed. Ideal writers talk of sowing an
acre with four pounds. That quantity of seed, say
they, will fill an acre with plants as thick as they ought
to stand. This rule may be admitted where grain is
the object; but it will not answer with respect to grass.
Grass seeds cannot be sown too thick : the plants shel¬
ter one another; they retain all the dew ) and they
must push upward, having no room laterally. Observe
the place where a sack of pease, or of other grain, has
been set down for sowing : the seed dropt there acci¬
dentally grows more quickly than in the rest of the
field sown thin out of hand. A young plant of clover,
or of sainfoin, according to Tull, may be raised to a
great size where it has room •, but the field will not
produce half the quantity. When red clover is sown
for cutting green, some recommend not less than 24
pounds to an acre. A field of clover is seldom too
thick : the smaller a stem be, the more acceptable it is
to cattle. It is often too thin j and when so, the stems
tend to wood. .
Grain may be sown more safely with red clover Of so wing-
than with almost any other grass j but with no clover with,
crop more properly than flax. The soil must be^ia*n‘
highly cultivated for flax as well as for red clover.
The proper season of sowing is the same for both $
the leaves of flax being very small, admit of free
circulation of air •, and flax being an early crop, is
removed so early as to give the clover time for grow¬
ing. In a rich soil it has grown so fast, as to afford
a good cutting that very year. Next to flax, barley
is the best companion to clover. The soil must be
loose and free for barley j and so it ought to be for
clover: the season of sowing is the same j and the clo¬
ver is well established in the ground before it is over¬
topped by the barley. At the same time, barley com¬
monly is sooner cut than either oats or wheat. In a
word, barley is rather a nurse than a stepmother to
clover during its infancy. When clover is sown in
spring upon wheat, the soil which has lain five or six
months without being stirred, is an improper bed for
it and the wheat, being in the vigour of growth,
overtops it from the beginning. It cannot be sown
along with oats, because of the hazard of frost j and
when sown as usual among the oats three inches high,
it is overtopped, and never enjoys free air till the oats
be cut. Add, that where oats are sown upon the win¬
ter furrow, the soil is rendered as hard as when under
wheat.—Red clover is sometimes sown by itself with¬
out other grain : but this method, beside losing a crop,
is not salutary j because clover in its infant state re¬
quires shelter.
As-. .
AGRICULTURE.
43°
Culture of
Crass.
White and
yellow clo-
Ter, rib¬
wort, and
rye-grass.
AGRICULTURE.
Practice
As to the quantity of grain proper to be sown with
clover, two Linlithgow firlots make the proper quan¬
tity for an acre that produces commonly six bolls of
barley. People may flatter themselves with the re¬
medy of cutting barley green for food, if it happen to
oppress the clover. This is an excellent remedy in a
field of an acre or two but the cutting an extensive
field for food must be slow } and while one part is cut¬
ting, the clover is smothered in other parts.
The culture of white clover, of yellow clover, of
ribwort, of rye-grass, is the same in general with that
of red clover. We proceed to their peculiarities. Yel¬
low clover, ribwort, rye-grass, are all of them early
plants, blooming in the end of April or beginning of
May. The two latter are evergreens, and therefore
excellent for winter pasture. Rye-grass is less hurt by
frost than any of the clovers, and will thrive in a
moister soil: nor in that soil is it much affected by
drought. In a rich soil, it grows four feet high : even
in the dry summer 1775, it rose to three feet eight
inches j but it had gained that height before the drought
came on. These grasses are generally sown with red
clover for producing a plentiful crop. The proportion
of seed is arbitrary j and there is little danger of too
much. When rye-grass is sown for procuring seed, five
firlots wheat measure may be sown on an acre j and
for procuring seed of ribwort, 40 pounds may be sown.
The roots of rye-grass spread horizontally j they bind
the soil by their number j and though small, are yet
so vigorous as to thrive in hard soil. Red clover has a
large tap-root, which cannot penetrate any soil but
what is open and free j and the largeness of the root
makes the soil still more open and free. Rye-grass,
once a great favourite, appears to be discarded in many
parts of Britain. The common practice has been, to
sow it with red clover, and to cut them promiscuously
the beginning of June for green food, and a little later
for hay. Oats or barley cut green before the seed
forms, will afford two other cuttings ; which is the case
of rye-grass, of yellow clover, and of ribwort. By
such management, all the profit will be drawn that
these plants can afford.
When red clover is intended for seed, the ground
ought to be cleared of weeds, were it for no other pur¬
pose than that the seed cannot otherwise be preserved
pure j what weeds escape the plough ought to be taken
out by the hand. In England, when a crop of seed is
intended, the clover is always first cut or pastured.
This appears to be done, as in fruit trees, to check the
growth of the wood, in order to encourage the fruit.
It is best to eat the clover with sheep till the middle
of May, which allows the seed to ripen. The seed
is ripe when, upon rubbing it between the hands, it
parts readilv from the husk. Then apply the scythe,
spread the crop thin, and turn it carefully. When
perfectly dry, take the first opportunity of a hot day
for threshing it on boards covered with a coarse sheet.
Another way, less subject to risk, is to stack the dry
hay, and to thresh it in the end of April. After the
first threshing, expose the husks to the sun, and thresh
them over and over till no seed remain. Nothing is
more efficacious than a hot sun to make the husk part
with its seed ; in which view it may be exposed to the
sun by parcels, an hour or two before the flail is ap¬
plied.
White clover, intended for seed, is managed in the Culture
same manner. No plant ought to be mixed with rye- Grass
grass that is intended for seed. In Scotland, much -y——
rye-grass seed is hurt by transgressing that rule. The
seed is ripe when it parts easily with the husk. The
yellowness of the stem is another indication of its ripe¬
ness 5 in which particular it resembles oats, barley, and
other culmiferous plants. The best manner to manage
a crop of rye-grass for seed, is to bind it loosely in
small sheaves, widening them at the bottom to make
them stand erect j as is done with oats in moist Avea-
ther. In that state they may stand till sufficiently dry
for threshing. By this method they dry more quickly,
and are less hurt by rain, than by close binding and
putting the sheaves in shocks like corn. The worst
way of all is to spread the rye-grass on the moist ground,
for it makes the seed malten. The sheaves, when suf¬
ficiently dry, are carried in close carts to where they
are to be threshed on a board, as mentioned above, for
clover. Put the straw in a rick when a hundred stone
iveight or so is threshed. Carry the threshing board to
the place Avhere another rick is intended 5 and so on
till the whole seed be threshed, and the straAV ricked.
There is necessity for close carts to save the seed, which
is apt to drop out in a hot sun ; and, as observed above,
a hot sun ought ahvays to be chosen for threshing.
Carry the seeds in sacks to the granary or barn, there
to be separated from the husks by a fanner. Spread
the seed thin upon a timber floor, and turn it once or
ttvice a-day till perfectly dry. If suffered to take a
heat, it is useless for seed. ^
The Avriters on agriculture reckon sainfoin prefer-Culture 0
able to clover in many respects : They say, that it pro- sainfoin,
duces a larger crop j that it does not hurt cattle Avhen
eaten green j that it makes better hay 5 that it conti¬
nues four times longer in the ground j and that it Avill
grow on land that Avill bear no other crop.
Sainfoin has a very long tap-root, which is able to
pierce very hard earth. The roots grotv very large ;
and the larger they are, they penetrate to the greater
depth j and hence it may be concluded, that this grass,
Avhen it thrives well, receives a great part of its nou¬
rishment from below the staple of the soil: of course, a
deep dry soil is best for the culture of sainfoin. When
plants draw their nourishment from that part of the soil
that is near the surface, it is not of much consequence
Avhether their number be great or small. But the case
is very different when the plants receive their food, not
only near, but also deep below, the surface. Besides,
plants that shoot their roots deep are often supplied
Avith moisture, Avhen those near the surface are parched
with drought.
To render the plants of sainfoin vigorous, it is ne¬
cessary that they be sovfti thin. The best method of
doing this is by a drill $ because, when soAvn in this
manner, not only the weeds, but also the supernume¬
rary plants, can easily be removed. It is several years
before sainfoin comes to its full strength ; and the num¬
ber of plants sufficient to stock a field, Avhile in this
imperfect state, Avill make but a poor crop for the first
year or two. It is therefore necessary that it be soAvn
in such a manner as to make it easy to take up plants
in such numbers, and in such order, as always to leave
in the field the proper number in their proper places.
This can only be done, with propriety, by sowing the
plants
AGRICULTURE.
’iirt I.
ji'ukure of plants in rows by a drill. Supposing a field to be drii-
Gr.i'V. led in rows at ten inches distance, the partitions may
-—v—~ be hand-hoed, and the rows dressed in such a manner
as to leave a proper number of plants. In this si¬
tuation the field may remain two years j then one-
fourth ot the rows may be taken out in pairs, in such a
manner as to make the beds of fifty inches, with six
rows in each, and intervals of thirty inches, which
may be ploughed. Next year, another fourth of the
rows may be taken out in the same manner, so as to
leave double rows, with partitions of ten inches, and
intervals of thirty : All of which may be hoed at
once nr alternately, as it may he found most conve¬
nient.
The great quantity of this grass which the writers
on this subject assure us may be raised upon an acre,
and the excellency and great value of the hay made of
it, should induce farmers to make a complete trial of
it, and even to use the spade in place of the hoe or
hoe-plough, if necessary.
The plants taken up from a field of sainfoin may be
set in another field j and if the transplanting of this
grass succeeds as well as the transplanting of lucerne
has done with M. Lunin de Chateauvieux, the trouble
and expence will be sufficiently recompensed by the
largeness of the crops. In transplanting, it is neces¬
sary to cut off great part of the long tap-root: this
will prevent it from striking very deep into the soil,
and make it push out large roots in a sloping direction,
from the cut end of the tap-root. Sainfoin managed
in this manner, will thrive even on shallow land that
has a wet bottom, provided it be not overstocked with
plants.
Whoever inclines to try the culture of this grass in
Scotland, should take great pains in preparing the land,
and making it as free from weeds as possible.
In England, as the roots strike deep in that chalky
soil, this plant is not liable to be so much injured by
drought as other grasses are, whose fibres strike hori¬
zontally, and lie near the surface. The quantity of hay-
produced is greater, and better in quality than any
other. But there is one advantage attending this grass,
which renders it superior to any other j and that arises
from feeding with it milch cows. The prodigious increase
of milk which it makes is astonishing, being nearly
double that produced by any other green food. The
milk is also better, and yields more cream than any
other; and the butter procured from it is much better
coloured and flavoured.
The following remarks by an English farmer are
made from much experience and observation.
Jkmarks Sainfoin is much cultivated in those parts where
m t*,e cut- the soil is of a chalky kind. It will always succeed
^ofsain-wej| where the roots run deep ; the worst soil of all for
aEngiand. ’S w^lere th61’6 is a bed of cold wet clay, which the
tender fibres cannot penetrate. This plant will make
a greater increase of produce, than common grass or
turf on poor land. Where it meets with chalk or stone,
it will extend its roots through the cracks and chinks
to a very great depth in search of nourishment. The
dryness is of more consequence than the richness of
land for sainfoin although ■land that is both dry and
rich will always produce the largest crops.
It is very commonly sown broad-cast 5 but it is found
to answer best in drills, especially if the land be made
line by repeated ploughing, rolling, and harrowing. Culture of
Much depends on the depth at which this seed is sown. Gras*.
It it be burien more than an inch deep, it will seldom 1 ■•i ■/■"" ■*'
grow ; and if left uncovered, it will push out its roots
above ground, and these will be killed by the air.
March and the beginning of April are the best seasons
lor sowing it, as the severity of winter and the drought
ot summer are equally unfavourable to tlie young plants.
A bushel ot seed sown broad-cast, or half that quantity
in drills, it good, is sufficient for an acre. The drills
should be 30 inches apart, to admit of horse-hoeing
between them. Much, however, depends on the good-
ness of the seed, which may be best judged of by the
following marks :
The husk being of a bright colour, the kernel plump,
of a gray or bluish colour without, and if cut across^
greenish and fresh withinside; if it he thin and furrow¬
ed, and of a yellowish cast, it will seldom grow. When
the plants stand single, and have room to spread, they
produce the greatest quantity of herbage, and the seed
ripens best. But farmers in general, from a mistaken
notion of all that appears to be waste ground beimr
unprofitable, plant them so close, that they choke and
impoverish each other, and often die 111 a few years.
Single plants run deepest and draw most nourishment^
they are also easiest kept free from weeds. A single
plant will often produce half a pound of hay, when dry.
On rich land this plant will yield two good crops in a
year, with a moderate share of culture. A good crop
must not be expected the first year; but, if the plants
stand not too thick, they will increase in size the se¬
cond year prodigiously.
No cattle should he turned on the field the first win¬
ter after the corn is off with which it was sown, as
their feet would injure the young plants. Sheep should
not come on the following summer, because they would
bite off the crown of the plants, and prevent their
shooting again. A small quantity of soapers ashes as a
top-dressing will be of great service, if laid on the first
winter.
If the sainfoin be cut just before it comes into bloom,
it is admirable food for horned cattle ; and if cut thus
early, it will yield a second crop the same season. But
if it proves a wet season, it is better to let it stand till
its bloom be perfected ; for great care must be taken,
in making it into hay, that the flowers do not drop oft,
as cows are very fond of them ; and it requires more
time than any other hay in drying. Sainfoin is so ex¬
cellent a fodder for horses, that they require no oats
while they eat it, although they be worked hard all the
time. Sheep will also be fattened with it faster than s
with any other food.
If the whole season for cutting proves very rainy, it
is better to let the crop stand for seed, as that will
amply repay the loss of the hay ; because it will not
only fetch a good price, but a peck of it will go as far
as a peck and a half of oats for horses.
ihe best time of cutting the seeded sainfoin is, when
the greatest part of the seed is well filled, the first
blown ripe, and the last blown beginning to open. For
want of this care some people have lost most of their
seed by letting it stand till too ripe. Seeded sainfoin
should always be cut in a morning or evening, when
the dews lender the stalks tender. If cut when the
sun shines hot, much of the seed will fall out and be lost.
!£■;
432
Culture of If the soil be tolerably good, a lield of sainfoin will
Grass, last from 15 to 20 years in prime; but at the end of
k v~—' seven or eight years, it will be necessary to lay on a
moderate coat of well rotted dung; or, if the soil be
very light and sandy, of marl. By this means the
future crops, and the duration of the plants in health
and vigour, will be greatly increased and prolonged.
Hence it will appear, that for poor land there is no¬
thing equal to this grass in point of advantage to the
farmer.
Clover will last only two years in perfection ; and
often, if the soil be cold and moist, near half the plants
will rot, and bald patches be found in every part of the
field the second year. Besides, from our frequent rains
during the month of September, many crops left for
feeding are lost. But from the quantity and excellent
' quality of this grass (sainfoin), and its ripening earlier,
and continuing in vigour so much longer, much risk
and certain expence are avoided, and a large annual
356 profit accrues to the farmer,.
Culture of The writers on agriculture, ancient as well as mo-
lucerxie. dern, bestow the highest encomiums upon lucerne as
affording excellent hay, and producing very large crops.
Lucerne remains at least 10 or 12 years in the ground,
and produces about eight tons of hay upon the Scots
acre. There is but little of it cultivated in Scotland.
However, it has been tried in several parts of that
country ; and it is found, that when the seed is good,
it comes up very well, and stands the winter frost. But
the chief thing which prevents this grass from being
more used in Scotland, is the difficulty of keeping the
soil open and free from weeds. In a few years the
surface becomes so hard, and the turf so strong, that it
destroys the lucerne before the plants have arrived at
their greatest perfection : so that lucerne can scarce be
cultivated with success there, unless some method be
fallen upon of destroying the natural grass, and prevent¬
ing the suiface from becoming hard and impenetrable.
This cannot be done effectually by any other means
than horse hoeing. This method was first proposed by
Mr Tull, and afterwards practised successfully by M.
de Chateauvieux near Geneva. It may be of use there¬
fore to give a view of that gentleman’s method of cul¬
tivating lucerne.
He does not mention any thing particular as to the
manner of preparing the land ; but only observes in ge¬
neral, that no pains should be spared in preparing it.
He tried the sowing of lucerne both in rows upon the
beds where it was intended to stand, likewise the sorv-
ing it in a nursery, and afterwards transplanting it in¬
to the beds prepared for it. He prefers transplant¬
ing ; because, when transplanted, part of the tap root
is cut off, and the plant shoots out a number of lateral
branches from the cut part of the root, which makes it
spread it roots nearer the surface, and consequently
renders it more easily cultivated : besides, this circum¬
stance adapts it to a shallow soil, in which, if left in its
natural state, it .would not grow.
The transplanting of lucerne is attended with many
advantages. The land may be prepared in the summer
for receiving the plants from the nursery in autumn :
by which means the field must be in a much better
•situation than if the seed had been sown upon it in the
spring. By transplanting, the rows can be made more
Practice:
regular, and the intended distances more exactly ob- Culture off
served ; and consequently the hoeing can be performed Grass,
more perfectly and with less expence. M. Chateau-
vieux likewise tried the lucerne in single beds three
feet wide, with single row's ; in beds three feet nine
inches wide, with double rows; and in beds four feet
three inches wide, with triple rows. The plants in
the single rows were six inches asunder, and those in
the double and triple row's were about eight or nine
inches. In a course of three years he found, that a
single row produced more than a triple row of the same
length. The plants of lucerne, when cultivated by
transplantation, should be at least six inches asunder,
to allow them room for extending their crowns.
He further observes, that the beds or ridges ought
to be raised in the middle ; that a small trench, two
or three inches deep, should be drawn in the middle ;
and that the plants ought to be set in this trench, co¬
vered with earth up to the neck. He says, that il the
lucerne be sown in spring, and in a warm soil, it will
be ready for transplanting in September; that, if the
weather be too hot and dry, the transplanting should
be delayed till October; and that if the weather be
unfavourable during both these months, this operation
must be delayed till spring. He further directs, that
the plants should be carefully taken out of the nursery,
so as not to damage the roots; that the roots be left
only about six or seven inches long ; that the green
crops be cut off within about two inches of the crown ;
that they be put into water as soon as taken up, there
to remain till they are planted; and that they should
be planted with a planting stick, in the same manner
as cabbages.
He does not give particular directions as to the
times of horse-hoeing ; but only says, in general, that
the intervals should be stirred once in the month du¬
ring the whole time that the lucerne is in a growing
state. He likewise observes, that great care ought to
be taken not to suffer any weeds to grow among the
plants, at least for the first two or three years ; and
for this purpose, that the rows as well as the edges of
the intervals where the plough cannot go, should be
weeded by the hand.
Burnet is peculiarly adapted to poor land ; be-cu]turei
sides, it proves an excellent winter pasture when hard-burnet
ly any thing else vegetates. Other advantages are, It
makes good butter; it never blows or swells cattle;
it is fine pasture for sheep; and will flourish well on
poor, light, sandy, or stony soils, or even on dry chalk
hills.
The cultivation of it is neither hazardous nor expen¬
sive. If the land is prepared as is generally done for
turnips, there is no danger of its failing. After the
first year, it will be attended with very little expence,
as the flat circular spread of its leaves will keep down,
or prevent the growth of weeds.
On the failure of turnips, either from the fly or the
black worm, some of our farmers have sown the land
with bur.net, and in March following had a fine pa¬
sture for their sheep and lambs. It will perfect its seed
twice in a summer ; and this seed is said to be as good
as oats for horses ; but it is too valuable to be applied
to that use.
It is sometimes sown late in the spring with oats and
barley,
AGRICULTURE,
Part I. • A G R I C U
Culture of barley, and succeeds very well j but it is best to sow it
s*ngly i’1 the beginning of July, when there is a pro-
^ ^ spect of rain, on a small piece of land, and in October
following ti'ansplant it in rows two feet apart, and
about a foot distant in the rows. This is a proper di¬
stance, and gives opportunity for hoeing the intervals
in the succeeding spring and summer.
Alter it is fed down with cattle, it should be harrow¬
ed clean. Some horses will not eat freely at first, but
in two or three days they are generally very fond of it.
It affords rich pleasant milk, and in great plenty.
A gentleman farmer near Maidstone, some years
since, sowed four acres as soon as the crop of oats was
got off, which was the latter end of August. He
threw in 12 pounds of seed per acre, broad-cast 5 and
no rain falling until the middle of September, the plants
did not appear before the latter end of that month.
There was however a good crop 5 and in the spring he
set the plants out with turnip hoe, leaving them about
a foot distant from each other. But the drill method
is preferable, as it saves more than half the seed. The
land was a poor dry gravel, not worth three shillings an
acre for any thing else.
The severest frost never injures this plant j and the
oftener it is fed the thicker are its leaves, which spring
constantly from its root.
We shall here enumerate a few more of the grasses
which have been accounted valuable, or are likely to
become so.
Alopecurus bulbosus, Bulbous Foxtail-grass, is
recommended by Hr Anderson *, as promising on some
35S
Bulbous
i foxtail-    _
* KjsaworaOCCaS*°nS *° a^or^ a valuable pasture-grass. It seems
Agricul- chie%> lie observes, to delight in a moist soil, and
twe, &,c. therefore promises to he only fit for a meadow pasture-
grass. The quality that first recommended it to his
notice, was the unusual firmness that its matted roots
gave to the surface of the ground, naturally soft and
moist, in which it grew; which seemed to promise that
it might be of use upon such soils, chiefly in preventing
them from being much poached by the feet of cattle which
might pasture upon them. Mossy soils especially are
so much hurt by poaching, that any thing that promises
to be of use in preventing it deserves to be attended to.
tireatmea- P°a pratensis. Great Meadow-grass, seems to
^f-grass. approach in many respects to the nature of the purple
fescue 5 only that its leaves are broader, and not near so
long, being only about a foot or 16 inches at their
greatest length. Like it, it produces few seed stalks
and many leaves, and is an abiding plant. It affects
chiefly the dry parts of meadows, though it is to he
found on most good pastures. It is very retentive of its
seeds, and may therefore be suffered to remain till the
stalks are quite dry. It blossoms the beginning of June,
and its seeds are ripe in July.
JPoa compressa, Creeping Meadow-grass, accord¬
ing to Dr Anderson, seems to he the most valuable
grass of any of this genus. Its leaves are firm and suc¬
culent, of a dai’k Saxon-green colour $ and grow so
close upon one another, as to form the richest pile of
pasture grass. The flower-stalks, if suffered to grow,
appear in sufficient quantities : but the growth of these
does not prevent the growth of the leaves, both advan-
eing together during the whole summer j and when the
stalks fade, the leaves continue as green as before. Its
Vol. I. Part II. f
360
Creeping
meadow-
(rast.
L T U R E. 4,3
leaves are much larger and more abundant than the Culture of
common meadow-grass, poa trivialis; and therefore it Grass.
better deserves to be cultivated. 1   J
Anthoxanthum odoratum, Vernal Grass, grows yer^j'
very commonly on dry hills, and likewise on sound nrass>
rich meadow-land. It is one of the earliest grasses we
have j and from its being found on such kinds of pa¬
stures as sheep are fond of, and from whence excellent
mutton comes, it is most likely to he a good grass for
sheep pastures. It gives a grateful odour to hay. In
one respect, it is very easy to gather, as it sheds its
seeds upon the least rubbing. A correspondent of the
Bath Society, however, mentions a difficulty that oc¬
curs in collecting them, owing to its being surrounded
with taller grasses at the time of its ripening, and be¬
ing almost hid among them. If it be not carefully
watched when nearly ripe, he observes, and gathered
within a few days after it comes to maturity, great
part of the seed will be lost. The twisted elastic awns,
which adhere to the seeds, lift them out of their recep¬
tacles with the least motion from the wind, even while
the straw and ear remain quite erect. It is found most¬
ly in the moist parts of meadows 5 very little of it on
dry pastures. It flowers about the beginning of May,
and is ripe about the middle of June.
Cynosurus cr{status, Crested Dog’s-tail Grass. Cl.e^j
Mr Stillingfleet imagines this grass to he proper fordogYtail
parks, from his having known one, where it abounds, grass,
that is famous for excellent venison. He recommends
it also, from experience, as good for sheep j the best
mutton he ever tasted, next to that which comes from
hills where the purple and sheep’s fescue, the fine bent,
and the silver hair grasses abound, having been from
sheep fed with it. He adds, that it makes a very fine
turf upon dry sandy or chalky soils: but unless swept
over with the scythe, its flowering-stems will look
brown 3 which is the case of all grasses which are not
fed on by variety of animals. For that some animals
will eat the flowering stems is evident from commons,
where scarcely any parts of grasses appear but the ra¬
dical leaves. This grass is said to be the easiest of the
whole group to collect a quantity of seeds from. It
flowers in June, and is ripe in July.
Stipa pennata. Cock’s Tail, or Feather Grass. CockVtail,
Agrostis capillar is. Fine Bent, is recommended by or feather
Mr Stillingfleet, from his having always found it in8iass-
great plenty on the best sheep pastures in the different Fin;^cut
counties of England that are remarkable for good mut- 1 C CU ’
ton. This grass flowers and ripens its seed the latest
of them all. It seems to be lost the former part of the
year, but vegetates luxuriantly towards the autumn. It
appears to be fond of moist grounds. It retains its seed
till full ripe 5 flowers the latter end of July, and is ripe
the latter end of August. _
Aira flexuosa, Mountain Hair. Mouniaia
 caryophillea, Silver Hair. huir.
The same may be said of these two grasses as of the s;iTer haii
preceding one.
Festuca jluitatis, Flote Fescue. In a piece pub- Fiot3e67
lished in the Amoenitates Academics, vol. iii. entitled fescUe.
Plants Fsculentce, we are informed, that “ the seeds of
this grass are gathered yearly in Poland, and from thence
carried into Germany, and sometimes into Sweden, and
sold under the name of manna reecfc.—These are much
3 I used
434
Culture ol'
Grass,
368
Meadow
369
A n mi at
meadow
grass..
AGRICULTURE.
used at the tables of the great, on account of their
nourishing quality and agreeable taste. It is wonderful
(adds the author), that amongst us these seeds have hi¬
therto been neglected, since they are so easily collected
and cleansed.” There is a clamminess on the ear of
the flote fescue, when the seeds are ripe, that tastes like
honey : and for this reason perhaps they are called
manna seeds.
Linnaeus {Flor. Si/ec. art. 95.) says that the bran of
this grass will cure horses troubled with botts, if kept
from drinking for some hours.
Concerning this grass we have the following infor¬
mation by Mr Stillingfleet. “ Mr Dean, a very sen¬
sible farmer at Huscomb, Berkshire, assured me that a
field, always lying under water, of about lour acres,
that was occupied by his father when he was a boy,
was covered with a kind of grass, that maintained five
farm horses in good heart from April to the end of
harvest, without giving them any other kind of food,
and that it yielded more than they could eat. He, at
my desire, brought me some of the grass, which pro¬
ved to be the flote fescue with a mixture of the marsh-
bent whether this last contributes much towards fur-
aishing so good pasture for horses, I. cannot say. They
both throw out roots at the joints of the stalks, and
therefore are likely to grow to a great length. In the
index of dubious plants at the end of Ray’s Synopsis,
there is mention made of a grass, under the name of
crramen caninum supinum longisswwm, growing not far
from Salisbury, 24 feet long. This must by its length
be a grass with a creeping stalk $ and that there is a
grass in Wiltshire growing in watery meadows, so va¬
luable that an acre of it lets from 10 to 12 pounds, I
have been informed by several persons. These circum¬
stances incline me to think it must be the flote fescue j
but whatever grass it be, it certainly must deserve to be
inquired after.
Alopeeurns pratensis, Meadow Foxtail. Lin-
nteus says that this is a proper grass to sow on grounds
that have been drained. Mr Stillingfleet was inform¬
ed, that the best hay which comes to London is from
the meadows where this grass abounds. It is scarce
in many parts of England, particularly Hereford¬
shire, Berkshire, and Norfolk. It may be gathered
at almost any time of the year from hay-ricks, as it
does not shed its seeds without rubbing, which is the
case of but few grasses. It is among tbe most grate¬
ful of all grasses to cattle. It is ripe about the latter
end of June.
Paa annua, Annual Meadow Grass. “ This
grass (says Mr Stillingfleet) makes the finest of turfe.
It grows everywhere by way sides, and on rich sound
commons. It is called in some parts the Suffolk grass.
I have seen whole fields of it in High Suffolk without
any mixture of other grasses •, and as some of the best
salt butter we have in London comes from that coun¬
ty*, it is most likely to be the best grass for the dairy.
I have seen a whole park in Suffolk covered with this
wrass : but whether it afford good venison, I cannot
tell, having never tasted of any from it. I should ra¬
ther think not, and that the best pasture for sheep is al¬
so the best for deer. However, this wants trial. I re-
ttiarked on Malvern-hill something particular in relation
to,this grass. A walk that was made there for the
Practice
convenience of the water drinkers, in less than a year Culture ut
was covered in many places with it, though I could not Grass,
find one single plant of it besides in any part of the
hill. This was no doubt owing to the frequent tread¬
ing, which above all things makes this grass flourish $
and therefore it is evident that rolling must be very ser¬
viceable to it. It has been objected, that this grass is
not free from hents, by which word is meant the flower¬
ing-stems. I answer, that this is most certainly true,
and that there is no grass without them. But the
flowers and stems do not grow so soon brown as those
of other grasses ; and being much shorter, they do not
cover the radical leaves so much 5 and therefore this
grass affords a more agreeable turf without mowing than
any other whatever that I know of.” 1 he seeds of this
species drop off before they are dry, and to appearance,
before they are ripe. The utmost care is therefore ne¬
cessary in gathering the blades, without which very few
of the seeds will be saved. It ripens from the middle
of April, to so late, it is believed, as the end of Octo¬
ber j but mostly disappears in the middle of the sum¬
mer. It grows in any soil and situation, but rather af¬
fects the shade. 370
A new grass from America (named Agi'ostis Agrostis
copice), was some time ago much advertised and extolled, cornilcoP'1
as possessing the most wonderful qualities, and the seeds
of it were sold at the enormous rate of 681. the bushel.
But we have not heard that it has at all answered ex¬
pectation. On the contrary, we are informed by Dr
Anderson, in one of his publications*, that “ it has * Hee, to
upon trial been found to be good lor nothing. Of the1*?'3^*
seeds sown, few of them ever germinated : but enough
of plants made their appearance, to ascertain, that the
grass, in respect of quality, is among the poorest of
the tribe 3 and that it is an annual plant, and altoge¬
ther unprofitable to the farmer.”
Chicorum Intybus, Chicory. 371
Mr Arthur Young has anxiously endeavoured to Chicory,
diffuse a knowledge of this plant, and he appears to
have been the first person that introduced it into the
agriculture of England from France, where it grows
naturally on the sides of the roads and paths, and is
sometimes cultivated as a salad. When it has been sown
by itself, in ground prepared by good tillage, it has
yielded two crops the same year. When sown amongst
oats, no crop is expected till the following year. This
plant defies the greatest droughts, and resists every
storm. Being of very early growth, its first leaves,
which are large and tufted, spread sidewise and cover
the ground so as to retain the moisture, and preserve its
roots from the heat which so often dries up every other
vegetable production : it has not any thing to fear from
storms, for its thick and stiff stalks support themselves
against the Avinds and heaviest rains. The most severe
cold and frosts cannot injure it. The quickness of its
growth, above all, renders it most valuable, because it
furnishes an abundance of salutary fodder in a season,
when the cattle, disgusted with their dry Avinter food,
greedily devour fresh plants.
This plant is greedily eaten by all sorts of cattle,
but it is difficult to make into hay. It is very volumi¬
nous, and drys ill, unless the weather be very favour¬
able for it. The dry fodder, however, which it does
yield, is eaten with pleasure by the cattle. The fol¬
lowing
Part I. AGRICULTURE.
Culture of lowing is the result of an experiment made with it by
Grass. Mr Ypung upon an acre of ground,
435
Aimak of
Agricul¬
ture, vol,
xt.
sown April 1788.
Cu£ July 24,
October 17,
Green produce.
Tons. cwt.
9 IO
9 x4
Prod nee of the year of sowing, 19 4
1789. Cut May 21,
July 24,
December 3,
12
16
9
4
14
Produce of the second year, 38 9
1790-
Cut June 8,
August 15,
18
J9
15
9
37*
Tall oat-
grass.
373
Yellow
oat-grass.
374
Rough oat-
§Tais.
375
Upright
broom-
grass.
375
Blue dogs-
uil.
Produce of the third year, 38 4
The following English grasses are recommended to
attention by Mr Curtis, author of the Flora Londinen-
sis; and he has given directions for making experi¬
ments with grass seeds in small quantities.
“ Avetfa elatior, tall oat-grass; common in wet mea¬
dows, and by the sides of hedges ; early, and very pro¬
ductive, but coarse.
“ Avena Jlavescens, yellow oat-grass ; affects a dry
soil, is early and productive, bids fair to make a good
sheep pasture.
“ Avena pubescens, rough oat-grass ; soil and situa¬
tion nearly similar to that of the meadow fescue j hardy,
early, and productive.
“ Bromus erectus, upright broom-grass ; peculiar to
chalky soils j earlv and productive ; promises to be a
good grass for chalky lands, and thrives indeed very
well on others.
“ Cynosurus cceruleus, blue dogs-tail grass ; earliest
of all the grasses j grows naturally on the tops of the
highest limestone rocks in the northern part of Great
Britain : not very productive, yet may perhaps answer
in certain situations, especially as a grass for sheep ;
bears the drought of summer remarkably well : at all
events seems more likely to answer than the sheep's
fescue grass, on which such encomiums have, most un¬
justly, been lavished.
Rough “ Dactylis glomcratus, rough cock's-foot grass ; a
eock’s-foot rough coarse grass, but extremely hardy and produc-
grass. tjve . sojj ant| situation the same as the meadow fescue.
Tallfescue “ ^estuca elatior, tall fescue grass ; tall and coarse,
grass. but very productive •, affects wet situations.
379 “ Festuca duriuscula, hard fescue grass ; affects such
Hard fescue situations as the smooth-stalked meadow grass ; is early
and tolerably productive : its foliage is fine, and of a
beautiful green 5 hence we have sometimes thought it
was of all others the fittest for a grass-plat or bowling-
green ; but we have found, that though it thrives very
much when first sown or planted, it is apt to become
thin, and die away after a while.
“ Phleum pratense, meadow cats-tail grass ; affects
wet situations ; is very productive, but coarse and late.”
To sow grass seeds in small quantities, this author
gives the following directions :—
“ If a piece of ground can be had, that is neither
377
grass.
380
Meadow
cat’s-tail
grass.
very moist nor very dry, it will answer for several sorts Culture of
of seed : they may then be sown on one spot 5 but if Grass,
such a piece cannot be obtained, they must be sown on
separate spots according to their respective qualities, "‘oi
no matter whether in a garden, a nursery, or in a field,making t.x.
provided it be well secured and clean. Dig up theperiments
ground, level and rake it, then sow each kind of seed '^h g™5*
thinly in a separate row, each row about a foot apart,
and cover them over lightly with the earth ; the latter
end of August or beginning of September will be the
most proper time for this business. If the weather be
not uncommonly dry, the seeds will quickly vegetate,
and the only attention they will require will be to be
carefully weeded. In about a fortnight from their com¬
ing up, such of the plants as grow thickly together may
be thinned, and those which are taken up transplanted,
so as to make more rows of the same grass.
“ If the winter should be very severe, though na¬
tives, as seedlings they may receive injury $ therefore
it will not be amiss to protect them with mats, fern, or
by some other contrivance.
“ Advantage should be taken of the first dry weather
in the spring, to roll or tread them down, in order to
fasten their roots in the earth, which the frost generally
loosens : care must still be taken to keep them perfect¬
ly clear from weeds. As the spring advances, many of
them will throw up their flowering stems, and some of
them wjH continue to do so all the summer. As the
seed in each spike or pannicle ripens, it must be very
carefully gathered and sown in the autumn, at which
time the roots of the original plants, which will now
bear separating, should be divided, and transplanted,
so as to form more rows 3 the roots of the smooth-stalk¬
ed meadow-grass, in particular, creeping like couch-
grass, may readily be increased in this way j and thus
by degrees a large plantation of these grasses may be
formed and much seed collected.
“ While the seeds are thus increasing, the piece or
pieces of ground, which are intended to be laid down,
should be got in order. If very foul, perhaps the best
practice (if pasture land) will be to pare off the sward
and burn it on the ground ; or if this should not be
thought advisable, it will be proper to plough up the
ground and harrow it repeatedly, burning the roots of
couch-grass and other noxious plants till the ground is
become tolerably clean 5 to render it perfectly so, some
cleansing crop, as potatoes or turnips, should be plant¬
ed or sown.
“ By this means, the ground we propose laying
down will be got into excellent order without much
loss $ and being now ready to form into a meadow or
pasture, should be sown broad-cast with the following
compositions:
Meadow fox-tail, one pint j
Meadow fescue, ditto j
Smooth-stalked meadow, half a pint j
Rough-stalked meadow, ditto j
Crested dog's-tail, a quarter of a pint;
Sweet-scented vernal, ditto ;
Dutch clover {trifolium repens), half a pint;
Wild red clover {trifolium pratense), or in its stead,
Broad clover of the shops, ditto ;
For wet land, the crested dog's-tail and smooth-
stalked meadow may be omitted, especially the
former* « a u
ala
AGRICULTURE.
Practice.
“ Such a composition as this, sown in the proportion
of about three bushels to an acre on a suitable soil, in a
favourable situation, will, I am bold to assert, form in
two years a most excellent meadow ; and, as all the
plants sown are strong hardy perennials, they will not
easily suffer their places to lie usurped by any noxious
plants, which by manure or other means, in spite of all
our endeavours, will be apt to insinuate themeslves-, if
they should, they must be carefully extirpated *, for such
a meadow is deserving of the greatest attention j hut if
that attention cannot be bestowed on it, and in process
of time weeds should predominate over the crop origi¬
nally sown, the whole should be ploughed up and fresh
sown with the same seeds, or with a better composition,
if such shall he discovered; for I have no doubt but,
at some future time, it will be as common to sow a
meadow with a composition somewhat like this, as it
now is to sow a field with wheat or barley.
“ One of the most important improvements in agri¬
culture that has occurred of late yeax-s, is the practice
of overflowing or flooding grass lands, which is now
coming greatly into use, not only on level grounds, but
in all situations in which a command of water can be
332 obtained. In the Monthly Review for October 1788,
When the t|ie ec[it01-s acknowledge the favour of a correspondent,
meadows ^w*10 them, that watering of meadows w as
was first practised during the reigns of Queen Elizabeth and
practised in James I. A book was written upon the subject by
England. one Rowland Vaughan, who seems to have been the in¬
ventor of this art, and who practised it on a very ex¬
tensive plan in the Golden Valley in Herefordshire.
Till this note to the Reviewers appeared, the inhabi¬
tants of a village called South Cerney in Gloucester¬
shire had assumed the honour of the invention to them¬
selves, as we are informed in a treatise upon the sub¬
ject by the Rev. Mr Wright, curate of the place. Ac¬
cording to a received tradition in that village, water¬
ing of meadows has been practised there for about a
century, and was introduced by one Welladvise, a
wealthy farmer in South Cerney. His first experiment
was by cutting a large ditch in the middle of his
ground, from which he threw the water over some
parts, and allowed it to stagnate in others : but finding
this not to answer his expectations, he improved his me¬
thod by cutting di’ains and filling up the hollows ; and
thus he succeeded so well, that his neighbours, who at
first called him a madman, soon changed their opinion,
and began to imitate his example.
Advantages " advantages which attend the watering of mea-
of waler^ dows are many and great ; not only as excellent crops
ing of grass are thus raised, but as they appear so eaily,
that they are of infinite service to the farmers for food
to their cattle in the spring before the natural grass
rises. By watering we have plenty of grass in the be¬
ginning of March, and even earlier when the season is
mild. The good effects of this kind of grass upon all
sorts of cattle are likervise astonishing, especially upon
such as have been hardly wintered j and Mr Wright
informs us, that the farmers in his neighbourhood, by
means of watering their lands, are enabled to begin
the making of cheese at least a month sooner than
their neighbours who have not the same advantage.
Grass x-aised by watering is found to be admirable for
the nurture of lambs : not only those designed for fat¬
tening, but such as are to be kept for store : For if
2
lambs when very young are stopped and stinted in Culture of
their growth, they not only become contracted "for life Grass,
themselves, but in some measure communicate the same
diminutive size to their young. The best remedy for
preventing this evil is the spring feed from watered
meadows ; and Mr Wright is of opinion, that if the
young of all kinds of farmers stock were immediately
encouraged by plenty of food, and kept continually in
a growing state, there would in a few years be a
notable change both in the size and shape of cattle in
general. Such indeed is the forwardness of grass
from watered meadows, that the feed between March
and May is worth a guinea per acre ; and in June an
acre will yield two tons of hay, and the after-math
is always worth twenty shillings j and nearly the
same quantity is constantly obtained whether the sum¬
mer be dry or wet. In di’y summers, also, such far¬
mers as water their meadows have an opportunity of
selling their hay almost at any price to their neigh¬
bours. 3S4
“ Land treated in this manner is continually impro- Land con-
ving in quality, even though it be mown every year : standy im-
the herbage, if coarse at first, becomes finer j the soil,
if swampy, becomes sound ; the depth of its mould
is augmented, and its quality meliorated every year.
“ To these advantages (says Mr Boswell in his trea¬
tise upon this subject) another may be addi’essed to
the gentleman who wishes to improve his estate, and
whose benevolent heart prompts him to extend a cha¬
ritable hand to the relief of the industrious poor, and
not to idleness and vice : almost the whole of the ex¬
pence in this mode of cultivation is the actual ma¬
nual labour of a class of people who have no genius
to employ their bodily strength otherwise for their
own support and that of their families 5 consequently
when viewed in this light, the expence can be hut
comparatively small, the improvement great and va¬
luable.” .585
As a proof of the above doctrine, Mr Wright ad-Example 1
duces an instance of one year’s produce of a meadow the produc
in his neighbourhood. It had been watered longer
than the eldest person in the neighbourhood could re¬
member ; but was by no means the best meadow upon
the stream, nor was the preceding winter favourable
for watering. It contains six acres and a half. The
spring feed was let for seven guineas, and supported
nearly 200 sheep from the 1st of March till the begin¬
ning of May: the hay being sold for 30 guineas, and
the after-math for six. Another and still more remark¬
able proof of the efficacy of watering, is, that two of
the most skilful watermen of that place were sent to
lay out a meadow of seven acres, the whole crop of
which was that year sold for two pounds. Though it
•was thought by many impossible to throw the water
over it, yet the skill of the workmen soon overcame
all difficulties ; and ever since that time the meadow
has been let at the rent of three pounds per acre. From
manifold experience, our author informs us, that the
people in that part of the country are so much attach¬
ed to the pi'actice of watering, that they never suffer
the smallest spring or rivulet to be unemployed. Even
those temporary floods occasioned by sudden showers
are received into proper ditches, and spread equally
over the lands untill their fertilizing property be totally
exhausted. “ Necessity (says he) indeed compels us
to
3®^
fhe prac-
ended.
hartl. A G R I C
[ttlturc of t0 make the most of every drop : for we have near 300
Grass, acres in this parish, that must all, if possible, be wa-
—-V—tered 3 and the stream that affords the water seldom
exceeds five yards in breadth and one in depth ; there¬
fore we may say, that a scarcity of water is almost as
much dreaded by us as by the celebrated inhabitants
of the banks of the Nile.”
Considering the great advantages to be derived from
ice of wa- the practice of watering meadows, and the many un-
ering doubted testimonies in its favour, Mr Wright expresses
mghttobe j-g surprise t]iat Jt j^g not come into more general
ally ex- use» as th61"6 18 not a stream of water upon winch a
mill can be erected but what may be made subservient
to the enriching of some land, perhaps to a great quan¬
tity. “ I am confident (says he), that there are in
each county of England and Wales 2000 acres upon
an average which might be thus treated, and every acre
increased at least one pound in annual value. The ge¬
neral adoption therefore of watering is capable of be¬
ing made a national advantage of more than loo,oool.
per annum, besides the great improvement of other land
arising from the produce of the meadows and the em¬
ployment of the industrious poor. Such an improve¬
ment, one would think, is not unworthy of public no¬
tice ; but if I had doubled the sum, I believe I should
not have exceeded the truth, though I might have
gone beyond the bounds of general credibility. In
this one parish where I reside there are about 300 acres
now watered ; and it may be easily proved that the
proprietors of the land reap from thence 1000I. yearly
profit.”
In Mr Boswell’s treatise upon this subject, published
in 1790, the author complains of the neglect of the
practice of improving the wet, boggy, and rushy lands,
which lie at the banks of rivers, and might be melio¬
rated at a very small expence, when much larger sums
are expended in the improvement of barren uplands
and large tracts of heath in various parts of the king¬
dom : and he complains likewise of the little informa¬
tion that is to be had in books concerning the method
of performing this operation. The only author from
whom he acknowledges to have received any informa¬
tion is Blyth ; and even his method of watering is very
different from that practised in modern times 3 for
which reason he proposes to furnish an original trea¬
tise upon the subject ; and of this we shall now give
the substance.
The first thing to be considered is, what lands are
capable of being watered. These, according to Mr
Boswell, are all such as lie low, near the banks of ri¬
vulets and springs, especially where the water course
is higher than the lands, and kept within its bounds
by banks. If the rivulet has a quick descent, the im¬
provements by watering will be very great, and the ex-
pences moderate. On level lands the water runs but
slowly, which is also the case with the large rivers j and
therefore only a small quantity of ground can be over¬
flowed by them in comparison of what can be done in
other cases : but the water of large rivers is generally
possessed of more fertilizing properties than that of ri¬
vulets. In many cases, however, the rivers are navi¬
gable, or have mills upon them j both of which are
strong objections to the perfect improvement of lands
adjacent to them. From these considerations, our au¬
thor concludes, that the watering of lands may be per-
3*7
Land Ga¬
mble of
mins; wa¬
tted.
U L T U R E. 437
formed in the best and least expensive manner-by small Culture of
rivulets and springs. , l^rass. .
There are three kinds of soils commonly found near
the banks of rivers and rivulets, the melioration of
which may be attempted by watering. 1. A gravelly
or sound warm firm soil, or a mixture of the two to¬
gether. This receives an almost instantaneous im¬
provement j and the faster the water runs over it the
better. 2. Boggy, miry, and rushy soils, which are
always found by the banks of rivers where the land is
nearly level. These also are greatly improved by wa¬
tering : perhaps equally so with those already descri¬
bed, if we compare the value of both in their unim¬
proved state, this kind of ground being scarce worth
any thing in its unimproved state. By proper water¬
ing, however, it may be made to produce large crops
of hay, by which horned cattle may be kept through
the winter and greatly forwarded j though in its un¬
cultivated state, it would scarce produce any thing to
maintain stock in the winter, and very little even in
summer. Much more skill, as well as expence, how¬
ever, is requisite to bring this kind of land into culture
than the former. 3. The soils most difficult to be
improved are strong, wet, and clay soils; and this dif¬
ficulty is occasioned both by their being commonly on
a dead level, which will not admit of the water run¬
ning over them j and by their tenacity, which will not
admit of draining. Even when the utmost care is ta¬
ken, unless a strong body of water is thrown over
them, and that from a river the water ol which has a
very fertilizing property, little advantage will be gain¬
ed ; but wherever such advantages can be had in the
winter, and a warm spring succeeds, these lands will
produce very large crops of grass.
The advantage of using springs and rivulets for wa- Springs and
tering instead of large ri vers is, that the expence ol rivulets
raising wares across them will not be great j nor are preferable
they liable to the other objections which attend thej?^‘?e
use of large rivers. When they run through a cultivat¬
ed country also, the land floods occasioned by violent
rains frequently bring with them such quantities of ma¬
nure as contribute greatly to fertilize the lands, and
which are totally lost where the practice of watering is
not in use.
Springs may be useful to the coarse lands that lie
near them, provided the water can be had in sufficient
quantity to overflow the lands. “ By springs (says
our author), are not here meant such as rise out of
poor heath or boggy lands (for the water issuing from
them is generally so small in quantity, and always so
very lean and hungry in quality, that little if any ad¬
vantage can be derived from it) *, but rather the head
of rivulets and brooks arising out of a chalky and gra¬
velly sound firm soil, in a cultivated country. These
are invaluable j and every possible advantage should be
taken to improve the ground near them. The author
knows a considerable tract of meadow-land under this
predicament j and one meadow in particular that is
watered by springs issuing immediately out of such a
soil, without any advantage from great towns, &c.
being situated but a small distance below the head of
the x'ivulet, and the rivulet itself is fed all the way by
springs rising out of its bed as clear as crystal. The
soil of the meadow is a good loam some inches deep.,
upon a fine springy gravel. Whether it is from the
43*
Culture of Heat of the springs, or whether the friction by the
Grass, water running over the soil raises a certain degree of
' v*——^ warmth favourable to vegetation, or from whatever
cause it arises, the fecundity of this water is beyond
conception *, for when the meadow has been properly
watered and well drained, in a warm spring, the grass
has been frequently cut for hay within five weeks from
the time the stock was taken out of it, having ate it
bare to the earth : almost every year it is cut in six
weeks, and the produce from one to three waggon
loads to an acre. In land thus situated, in the morn¬
ings and evenings in the months of April, May, and
June, the whole meadow will appear like a large fur¬
nace j so considerable is the steam or vapour which
arises from the warmth of the springs acted upon by
the sun-beams: and although the water is so exceed¬
ing clear, yet upon its being thrown over the land on¬
ly a few days in warm weather, by dribbling through
the grass, so thick a scum will arise and adhere to
the blades of the grass, as will be equal to a consider¬
able quantity of manure spread over the land, and (it
may be presumed from the good effects) still more en¬
riching.
“ It is inconceivable what 24 hours water properly
conveyed over the lands will do in such a season: a
beautiful verdure will arise in a few days where a
parched rusty soil could only be seen j and one acre
will then be found to maintain more stock than ten
could do before.”
Explana- Mr Boswell next proceeds to an explanation of the
tion of the terms used in this art 5 of the instruments necessary to
terms used perf0rm it; and of the principles on which it is found-
m water- e{^ ^erms use(j are .
1. A Ware. This is an erection across a brook,
rivulet, or river, frequently constructed of timber, but
more commonly of bricks or stones and timber, with
openings to let the water pass, from two to ten in num¬
ber according to the breadth of the stream : the height
being always equal to the depth of the stream compa¬
red with the adjacent land. The use of this is occasion¬
ally to stop the current, and to turn it aside into the
adjacent lands.
2. A Sluice is constructed in the same manner as
a ware 5 only that it has but a single passage for the
water, and is put across small streams for the same pur¬
pose as a ware.
3. A Trunk is designed to answer the same pur¬
poses as a sluice j but being placed across such streams
as either cattle or teams are to pass over, or where it
is necessary to carry a small stream at right angles to a
large one to water some lands lower down, is for these
reasons made of timber, and is of a square figure.
The length and breadth are various, as circumstances
determine.
4. A Carriage is made of timber or of brick. If
of timber, oak is the best j if of brick, an arch ought
to be thrown over the stream that runs under it, and
the sides bricked up : But when made of timber, which
is the most common material, it is constructed with a
bottom and sides as wide and high as the main in which
it lies. It must be made very strong, close, and well
jointed. Its use is to convey the water in one main
over another, which runs at right angles to it j the depth
and breadth are the same with those of the main to
which it belongs: and the length is determined by
Practice
that which it crosses. The carriage is the most expen- Cnltnre oi
sive instrument belonging to watering. Grass,
3. A .Drain-Sluice, or Drain-'l'runh^ is always L 1 r-—■
placed in the lower part of some main, as near to the
head as a drain can be found j that is, situated low
enough to draw the main, &c. It is made of timber,
of a square figure like a trunk, only much smaller. It
is placed with its mouth at the bottom of the main, and
let down into the bank j and from its other end a drain
is cut to communicate with some trench-drain that is
nearest. The dimensiops are various, and determined
by circumstances. The use of it is, when the water is
turned some other way, to convey the leaking water
that oozes through the hatches, &c. into the drain, that
otherwise would run down into the tails of those trench¬
es which lie lowest, and there poach and rot the ground,
and probably contribute not a little to the making it
more unsound for sheep. This operation is of the ut¬
most consequence in watering ; for if the water be not
thoroughly drained off the land, the soil is rotted j and
when the hay comes to be removed, the wheels of the
carriages sink, the horses are mired, and the whole load
sometimes sticks fast for hours together. On the other
hand, when the drain trunks are properly placed, the
ground becomes firm and dry, and the hay is speedily
and easily removed.
6. Hatches are best made of oak, elm, or deal j
the use of them is to fit the openings of wares, trunks,
or sluices ; and to keep back the water when necessa¬
ry, from passing one way, to turn it another. They
ought to be made to fit as close as possible. When
hatches belong to wares that are erected across large
streams, or where the streams swell quickly with heavy
rains, when the hatches are in their places to water the
meadows, they are sometimes made so, that a foot or
more of the upper part can be taken oflT, so that vent
may be given to the superfluous water, and yet enough
retained for the purpose of watering the meadows. In
this case, they are called flood-hatches : but Mr Bos¬
well entirely disapproves of this construction, and re¬
commends them to be made entire, though they should
be ever so heavy, and require the assistance of a lever
to raise them up. For when the water is very high,
and the hatches are suddenly drawn up, the water falls
with great force upon the bed of the ware, and in time
greatly injures it: but when the whole hatch is drawn
up a little way, the water runs off at the bottom, and
does no injury.
8. A Head-Main, is a ditch drawn from the river,
rivulet, &c. to convey the water out of its usual cur¬
rent, to water the lands laid out for that purpose, by
means of lesser mains and trenches. The head-main is
made of various dimensions, according to the quantity
of land to be watered, the length or descent of it, &c.
Smaller mains are frequently taken out of the head
one $ and the only difference is in point of size, the
secondary mains being much smaller than the other.
They are generally cut at right angles, or nearly so,
with the other, though not invariably. The use of
the mains, whether great or small, is to feed the
trenches with water, which branch out into all parts
of the meadow, and convey the water to float the land.
By some, these smaller mains are improperly called
carriages.
9- A Trench is a small ditch made to convey the
* water
agriculture.
^art I.
f'ulttii'e
ta,as?1
AGRICULTURE. 439
for tlie immediate purpose of levelled, hut seme part of the panes lie higher than Culture of
they ought: in which case, a gutter is drawn from Grass,
the trend) over that high ground, which otherwise
would not he overflowed. Without this precaution,
unless the flats be filled up (which ought always to be
oone when materials can be bad to do it) the water
tvill not rise upon it ; and after the watering season is
past, those places would appear rusty and brown, while
the rest is covered with beautiful verdure. Our au¬
thor, however, is of opinion, that this method of treat¬
ing water meadows ought never to be followed j but
that every inequality in water meadows should either
be levelled, or filled up. Hence the waterman’s skill is
shown in bringing the water over those places to which
it could not naturally rise, and in carrying it off from
those where it would naturally stagnate.
16. A Catch-Drain is sometimes made use of when
water is scarce. When a meadow’ is pretty long, and
has a quick descent, and the water runs quickly down
the drains, it is customary to stop one or more of them
at a proper place, till the water flowing thither rises so
high as to strike back either into the tail drains so as to
stagnate upon the sides of the panes, or til! it flows over
the banks of the drains, and waters the ground below,
or upon each side. It is then to be conveyed over the
land in such quantity as is thought proper, either by a
small main, out of which trenches are to be cut with
their proper drains, or by trenches taken properly out
of it. In case of a stagnation, the design will not suc¬
ceed ; and it will then be necessary to cut a passage to
let the stagnating water run off. Even when the me¬
thod succeeds best, Mr Boswell is of opinion, that it is
not by any means eligible; the water having been so
lately strained over the ground, that it is supposed by
the watermen not to be endowed with such fertilizing
qualities as at first j whence nothing but absolute ne¬
cessity can justify the practice.
17. A Pond is any quantity of water stagnating
upon the ground, or in the tail-drain, trench-drains,
&c. so as to annoy the ground near them. It is oc¬
casioned sometimes by the flats not having been pro¬
perly filled up $ at others, when the ware not being
close shut, in order to water some grounds higher up,
the water is thereby thrown hack upon the ground
adjacent.
18. A Turn of water signifies as much ground as
can be watered at once. It is done by shutting down
the hatches in all those wares where the water is in¬
tended to be kept out, and opening those that are to
let the water through them. The quantity of land to
be watered at once must vary according to circum¬
stances 5 but Mr Boswell lays down one general rule
in this case, viz. that no more land ought to be kept
under water at one time than the stream can supply re¬
gularly with a sufficient quantity of water j and if this
can he procured, water as much ground as possible.
19. The Head of the meadow, is that part of it into
which the river, main, &c. first enter.
20. The Tail is that part out of which the river,
&c. last passes.
21. The Upper Side of a main or trench, is that
side which {when the main or trench is drawn at right
angles, or nearly so, with the river) fronts the part
where the river entered. The lower side is the oppo¬
site.^
22° The
of water out of the mains
watering the land. It ought always to be drawn in a
straight line from angle to angle, with as few turnings
as possible. It is never deep, but the width is in pro¬
portion to the length it runs, and the breadth of the
plane between that and the trench drain. The breadth
tapers gradually to the lower end.
10. A Trench Drain is always cut parallel to
the trench, and as deep as the tail-drain water will ad¬
mit, when necessary. It ought always, if possible, to
be cut down to a stratum of sand, gravel, or clay. If
into the latter, a spade’s depth into it will be of great
advantage. The use of it is to carry away the water
immediately after it has run over the panes from the
trench. It need not to be drawn up to the head of the
land by five, six, or more yards, according to the na¬
ture of the soil. Its form is directly the reverse of the
trench j being narrower at the head, and growing gra¬
dually wider and wider until it empties itself into the
tail-d rain.
11. The Tail-Drain is designed as a receptacle
{or all the water that flow’s out of the other drains,
which are so situated that they cannot empty them¬
selves into the river. It should run, therefore, nearly
at right angles with the trenches, though generally it
is thought most eligible to draw it in the lowest part
of the ground, and to use it to convey the water out
of the meadows at the place where there is the great¬
est descent", which is usually in one of the fence-
ditches : and hence a fence-ditch is usually made use
of instead of a tail-drain, and answers the double pur¬
pose of fencing a meadow, and draining it at the same
time.
12. A Pane of ground is that part of the meadow
which lies between the trench and the trench drain ;
and in which the grass grows for hay. It is watered
by the trenches, and drained by the trench-drains j
whence there is a pane on each side of every trend).
13. A Way-Pane is that part of the ground which
lies, in a properly watered meadow’, on the side of the
main where no trenches are taken out, but is watered
the whole length of the main over its banks. A drain
for carrying off the water from this pane runs parallel
to the main. The use is to convey the bay out of the
meadows, instead of the teams having to cross all the
trendies.
14. A Bend is made in various parts of those
trenches which have a quick descent, to obstruct the
water. It is made, by leaving a narrow strip of green
sward across the trench where the bend is intended to
be left; cutting occasionally a piece of the shape of a
tvedge out of the middle of it. The use is to check
the water, and force it over the trench into the panes ;
which, were it not for these bends, would run rapidly
on in the trench, and not flow over the land as it passes
along. The great art in watering consists in giving to
each part of the panes an equal proportion of water.
15. A Gutter is a small groove cut out from the
tails of these trenches where the panes run longer at
one corner than the other. The use is to carry the
water to the extreme point of the pane. Those panes
which are intersected by the trench and tail-drains,
Sleeting in an obtuse angle, require the assistance of
gutters to convey the water to the longest side. They
are likewise useful, when the land has nut been so well
4-40
AGRICULTURE.
Practice,
22, The Upper Pane in a meadow is that which
lies on the upper side of the main or trench that is
drawn at right angles with the river : where the river
runs north and south, it enters in the former direc¬
tion, and runs out in the southern, the main and
trenches running east and west. Then all those panes
which lie on the north side of the mains are called
upper panes; and those on the south side the tower
panes. But when the mains, trenches, &c. run pa¬
rallel to the river, there is no distinction of panes in¬
to upper and lower.
The instruments used in watering meadows are.
1. A Water-level. The use of this is to take the
level of the land at a distance, and compare it with
that of the river, in order to know whether the ground
can be overflowed by it or not. This instrument, how¬
ever, is used only in large undertakings-, for such as aie
on a smaller scale, the workmen dispense with it in the
following manner : In drawing a main, they begin at
the head, and work deep enough to have the water tol-
low them. In drawing a tail drain, they begin at the
lower end of it, and work upwards, to let the tail wa¬
ter come after them. By this method we obtain the
most exact level. , , , .
2. The Line, Heel, and Breast-Plough, are absolutely
necessary. The line ought to be larger and stronger
than that used by gardeners.
3. Spades. Those used in watering meadows are
made of a particular form, on purpose for the work; ha¬
ving a stem considerably more crooked than those 01
any other kind. The bit is iron, about a foot wide in
the middle, and terminating in a point: a thick ridge
runs perpendicularly down the middle, from the stem
almost to the point. The edges on both sides are drawn
very thin, and being frequently ground and whetted,
the whole soon becomes narrow ; after which the
spades are used for trenches and drains ; new ones be¬
ing procured for other purposes. The stems being
made crooked, the workmen standing in the trench or
drains, are enabled to make the bottoms quite smooth
and even.
4. Wheel and Hand-harrows. The former are used
for removing the clods to the flat places, and aie quite
open, without any sides or hinder part. The latter are
of service where the ground is too solt to admit the use
of wheel-barrows, and when clods are to be removed
during the time that the meadow is under water.
5. Three-wheeled Carts are necessary when large
quantities of earth are to be removed : particularly
when they are to be carried to some distance.
6. Short and narrow Scythes are made use of to mow
the weeds and grass, when the water is running in the
trenches, drains, and mains.
-]. Forks, and long Crooks with four or five tines, are
used for pulling out the roots of sedges, rushes, reeds,
&c. which grow in the large mains and drains. The
-crooks should be made light, and have long stems to
reach wherever the water is so deep that the workmen
cannot work in it.
8. Strong Water-hoots, the tops of which will draw
up half the length of the thigh, are indispensably ne¬
cessary. They must also be large enough to admit a
quantity of bay to be stuffed down all round the legs,
rind be kept well tallowed to resist the running water
for many hours together.
The principles on which the practice of watering Culture of
meadows depends are few and easy. Grass.
1. Water will always rise to the level of the recep-
tacle out of which it is originally brought. rrindples
2. There is in all streams a descent greater or small-on wijch
er ; the quantity of which is in some measure shown by thepractic-
the running of the stream itself. If it run smooth and o'' waterinj
slow, the descent is small 5 but if rapidly and withdtl’euds'
noise, the descent is considerable.
3. Hence if a main be taken out of the river high
enough up the stream, water may be brought from that
river to flow over the land by the side of the river, to a
certain distance below the head of the main, although
the river from whence it is taken should, opposite tu
that very place, be greatly under it.
4. Water, sunk under a carriage which conveys
another stream at right angles over it, one, two, or
more feet below its own bed, will, when it has pas¬
sed the carriage, rise again to the level it had be¬
fore.
5. Water conveyed upon any land, and left there
stagnant for any length of time, does it an injury : de¬
stroying the good herbage, and filling the place with
rushes, flags, and other weeds.
6. Hence it is absolutely necessary, before the work
is undertaken, to be certain that the water can be tho¬
roughly drained oft.
In Mr Wright’s treatise upon this subject, the au-
thor considers a solution of the three follovying que-nictllosj
stions as a necessary preliminary to the operation of wa¬
tering. 1. Whether the stream of water will admit of
a temporary dam or ware across it ? 2. Can the farmer
raise the water by this means a few inches above its
level, without injuring his neighbour’s land? 3. Can
the water be drawn off from the meadow as quick as
it is brought on ? If a satisfactory answer can be given
to all these questions, he directs to proceed in the fol¬
lowing manner.
Having taken the level of the ground, and compa¬
red it with the river, as directed by Mr Boswell, cut
a deep wide ditch as near the dam as possible, and by
it convey the water directly to the highest part of the
meadow ; keeping the sides or banks of the ditch ot
an equal height, and about three inches higher than
the general surface of the meadow. Where the mea¬
dow is large, and has an uneven surface, it will some¬
times be necessary to have three works in different di¬
rections, each five feet wide, if the meadow contains
15 acres, and if the highest part be farthest from the
stream. A ditch of 10 feet wide and three deep will
commonly water 10 acres of land. MTen there are
three works in a meadow, and flood-hatches at the
mouth of each, when the water is not sufficient to co¬
ver the whole completely at once, it may be watered
at three different times, by taking out one of the
hatches, and keeping the other two in. In this case,
when the water has run over one division of the land
for 10 days, it may then be taken off that and tumbled
over to another, by taking up another hatch and let¬
ting down the former 5 by which means the three divi¬
sions will have a proper share of the water alternately,
and each reap equal benefit. The bottom of the first
work ought to be as deep as the bottom of the river,
when the fall of the meadow will admit of it; for the
deeper the water is drawn, the more mud it carries
Part I. A G R I C
Culture of a^on§ with it* From the works, cut at right angles,
Grass, smaller ditches or troughs, having a breadth propor-
v 1 tioned to the distance to which some part of the water
is to be carried, their distance from each other being
about 12 yards. A trough two feet wide, and one
foot deep, will water a surface 12 yards wide and 40
feet long. In each trough as well as ditch place fre¬
quent stops and obstructions, especially when the wa¬
ter is rapid, to keep it high enough to flow through
the notches or over the sides. Each ditch and trough
is gradually contracted in width, as the quantity of
water constantly decreases the farther they proceed.
Between every two troughs, and at an equal distance
from both, cut a drain as deep as you please parallel
to them, and w'ide enough to receive all the water that
runs over the adjacent lands, and to carry it off into
the master-drain with such rapidity as to keep the
whole sheet of water in constant motion ; and if pos¬
sible not to suffer a drop to stagnate upon the whole
meadow. “ For a stagnation (says he), though it is
recommended by a Mr X). Itoung for the improvement
of arable land, is what we never admit in our system
of watering ; for we find that it rots the turf, soaks and
starves the land, and produces nothing but coarse grass
and aquatic weeds.
“ When a meadow lies cold, flat, and swampy, the
width of the bed, or the distance between the trough
and drain, ought to be very small, never exceeding six
yards : indeed, in this case, you can scarcely cut your
land too much, provided the water be plentiful; for
the more you cut, the more water you require. The
fall of the bed in every meadow should be half an inch
in a foot: less will do, but more is desirable; for when
the draught is quick, the herbage is always fine and
sweet. The water ought never to flow more than
two inches deep, nor less than one inch, except in the
t warm months.”
Ejections Wright proceeds now to answer some objec-
0 his me- tions made by the Reviewers in their account of the
hod an- first edition of his work. 1. That the Gloucestershire
vered. farmers use more water for their lands than is neces¬
sary. To this it is answered, That where water is plen¬
tiful, they find it advantageous to use even more water
than he recommends $ and when water is scarce, they
choose rather to water only one half, or even a smaller
portion of a meadow at a time, and to give that a
plentiful covering, than to give a scanty one to the
whole. 2. The Reviewers likewise recommend a re¬
peated use of the same water upon different and lower
parts of the same meadow, or to make each drain serve
as a trough to the bed which is below it. But though
this method is in some degree recommended by the
celebrated Mr Bakewell, and taught by a systematic
i repeated 'vaterer in Staffordshire, he entirely disapproves of it;
!s«ofthe excepting where the great declivity of the land will
arae water not admit of any other plan. “ This cannot (says he)
'Mi a ProPer °f watering grass-land in the win¬
ter time ; for it can be of no service to the lowest
parts of the meadow, unless as a wetting in spring or
summer. The first or highest part of a meadow laid
out according to this plan will indeed be much im¬
proved ; the second may reap some benefit; but the
third, which receives the exhausted thin cold water, will
produce a very unprofitable crop. Our farmers never
Vol, I, Part IL f
U L T U R E. 44i
choose more than a second use in the same meadow, Cuiture of
and that very seldom; they call even the second running Grass,
by the significant name of small beer ; which, they say, '■'"■—"v*—
may possibly satisfy thirst, but can give very little
life or strength to land. It is a much better method
to have a meadow laid out so as to be watered at se¬
veral times, and to be at the expence of several small
flood-hatches, than to water the whole of it at once by
means of catch-drains.
“ Sometimes it is necessary, in a large meadow, to
convey the water that has been used under the works
and troughs ; and then the w'ater above is supported
by means of boards and planks, which we call a carry-
bridge. Sometimes, the better to regulate the course
of the water of the surface, especially in the spring,
nai’row trenches are dug, and the mould laid by the
side of them, in order to be restored to its former
place when the watering is finished. The earth and
mud thrown out in cleansing and paring the ditches
should be carried to fill up the low hollow parts of the
meadow, and be trodden down with an even surface;
which will easily be done when the water is on, the
watermen being always provided with a strong pair of
water-proof boots. If the mould thus used has upon
it a turf that is tolerably fine, place it uppermost; but
if it is sedgy and coarse, turn it under, and the water if
it runs quick will soon produce a fine herbage upon it.
The grounds that are watered in the easiest and
most effectual manner, are such as have been ploughed
and ridged up in lands about twelve yards wide. Here
the water is easily carried along the ridge by means of
a small ditch or trough cut along its summit, and then,
by means of the stops in it, is made to run down the
sides or beds into the furrows, by which it is carried
into the master-drain, which empties itself into the ri¬
ver. Every meadow, before it is well watered, must
be brought into a form something like a field that has
been thus left by the plough in a ridged state. Each
side of the ridge should be as nearly as possible an exact
inclined plane, that the water may flow over it as
equally as may be.” Mr Wright does not, like Mr
Boswell, disapprove of the use of flood-hatches; he
only gives the following hint, viz. that their basis should
be deep and firmly fixed, well secured with stone and
clay, that it be not blown up. The following direc¬
tions are given for each month of watering.
In the beginning of November, all the ditches, Of cleaning
troughs, and drains, are to be thoroughly cleansed by repair-
the spade and breast-plough, from weeds, grass, and*“£^e
mud ; and well repaired, if they have received any in- ?J|'.
jury from cattle. After a shower, when the water is Thick and
thick and muddy, turn over the meadow as much wa- muddy wa¬
ter as you can without injuring the banks of the works, ter^°
especially if the land be poor; as in this month, accord-“tsecai'vu^
ing to our author, the water contains many more ferti-done.
lizing particles, which he calls salts and richness, than
later in the winter. In defence of this position, of
which it seems the Monthly Reviewers have doubt¬
ed, our author urges, that though he is not able to
prove it by any chemical analysis, yet it seems evident,
that “ after the first washing of farm yards, various
sinks, ditches, and the surface of all the adjoining
fields, which have lain dry for some time, the com¬
mon stream should then contain much more fatness
3 K than
442
Culture cf than when the same premises have been _ repeatedly
Grass, washed.” This is confirmed by the experience of the
-—v——' Gloucestershire farmers ; who, if they can at this sea¬
son of the year procure plenty of muddy water to over-
How their grounds for one week, look upon it to be
equally valuable with what is procured during all the
rest of the winter. In support of this, he quotes the
following words of Mr Forbes, in a treatise on water¬
ing: “ The water should be let in upon the meadow
in November, when the first great rains make it muddy,
for then it is full of a rich sediment, brought down from
the lands of the country through which it runs, and is
washed into it by the rain ; and as the sediment brought
by the first floods is the richest, the carriages and drains
of the meadow should all be scoured clean and in order,
before these floods come.”
“ In opposition (adds Mr Wright) to the opinion
of practical waterers, that the muddiness of the water
is of little consequence, I hesitate not to affirm, that
the mud is of as much consequence in winter-watering,
as dung is in the improvement of a poor upland field.
For each meadow in this neighbourhood is fruitful in
proportion to the quantity of mud that it collects from
the water. And, indeed, what can be conceived more
enriching than the abundant particles of putrid mat¬
ter which float in the water, and are distributed over
the surface of the land, and applied home to the roots
of the grass. It is true, that any the most simple
water thrown over a meadow in proper quantity, and
not suffered to stagnate, will shelter it in winter, and
in the warmth of spring will force a crop j but this
unusual force must exhaust the strength of the land,
which will require an annual supply of manure in sub¬
stance, or, in a course of years, the soil will be im¬
paired rather than improved. The meadows in this
county, which lie next below a market town or vil¬
lage, are invariably the best j and those which receive
the water after it has been two or three times used,
reap proportionably less benefit from it: For every
meadow that is well laid out, and has any quantity of
grass upon its surface, will act as a fine sieve upon the
water, which, though it flow in ever so muddy, will
be returned back to the stream as clear as it came from
the fountain. This circumstance, when there is a
range of meadows to he watered, the property of dif¬
ferent persons, when water is scarce, creates vehement
contentions and struggles for the first use of it. The
proprietors are therefore compelled to agree among
themselves, either to have the first use alternately, or
for the higher meadows to dam up, and use only one
half or a less portion of the river. Our farmers know
the mud to be of so much consequence in watering,
that whenever they find it collected at the bottom of
the river, or the ditches, they hire men whole days to
disturb and raise it with rakes made for the purpose,
that it may be carried down by the water, and spread
instance of upon their meadows. One meadow in South Cerney,
the good I think, is an incontestable proof of the consequence of
effects of muddy water. It is watered by a branch of the com-
muddy wa-mon sjream that runs for about half a mile down a
public road. This water, by the mud on the road
being continually disturbed by carriages and the feet
of cattle becomes very thick, and when it enters the
meadow is almost as white as milk. This field, which
consists of seven acres, was a few years ago let for ios.
a
Practice.
an acre, but is already become the richest land in the Culture of
parish, and has produced at one crop eighteen loads of Grass,
hay, and each load more than 25 hundred weight.” v—
In further confirmation of what our author asserts, Mr'^m
he quotes, from the Annals of Agriculture, the fol- pey»s 0 •"
lowing words of Mr \\ impey : “ As to the sorts ofnionupon
water, little is to J)e found, I believe, which does the sut>-
not encourage and promote vegetation, even the mostlect-
simple, elementary, and uncompounded fluid : heat
and moisture, as well as air, are the sine qua non 0!
vegetation as well as animal Hie. Diflerent plants
require diflerent proportions of each to live and flou¬
rish ; but some of each is absolutely necessary to all.
However, experience as well as reason universally
shows, that the more turbid, feculent, and replete
with putrescent matter the water is, the more rich
and fertilizing it proves. Hasty and impetuous rains,
of continuance sufficient to produce a flood, not only
dissolve the salts, but wash the manure in substance off
the circumjacent land into the rapid current. Such
turbid water is both meat and drink to the land ; and,
by the unctuous sediment and mud it deposits, the soil
is amazingly improved and enriched. T-he virtue of
water from a spring, if at all superior to pure elemen¬
tary water, is derived from the several strata or beds
of earth it passes through, which, according to the na¬
ture of such strata, may be friendly or otherwise to ve¬
getation. If it passes through chalk, marl, fossil shells,
or any thing of a calcareous nature, it would in most
soils promote the growth of plants ; but if through me¬
tallic ores, or earth impregnated with the vitriolic acid,
it would render the land unfertile, if not wholly bar¬
ren. In general the water that has run far is superior
to that which immediately flows from the spring, and
more especially that which is feculent and muddy, con¬
sisting chiefly of putrid animal substances washed down
the stream.” 39S
To the same purpose also, says Mr Forbes : “ There Confirmed
is great difference in the quality ot water, arising from li®
the particles of different kinds of matter mixed withbe5'
them. Those rivers that have a long course through
good land, are full of fine particles, that are highly fer¬
tilizing to such meadows as are usually overflowed by
them 5 and this chiefly in floods, when the water is full¬
est of a rich sediment : for when the water is clear,
though it may be raised by art high enough to overflow
the adjoining lands, and be of some service to them, the
improvement ihus made is far short of what is obtained
from the same water when it is thick and muddy.”
Mr Boswell, though quoted by Mr W right as an^rBos-
advocate for the doctrine just now lafd down, seems, vvell’s opi
in one part of his work at least, to be of a contrary aion.
opinion. This is in the 14th chapter of his book,
where he remarks upon another publication on the same
subject, the name of which he does not mention : “ In
page 4. of that pamphlet (says Mr Boswell) the writer
informs us, ‘ if the water used be always pure and
simple, the effect will by no means be equal to the
above 5 that is, of a stream that is sometimes thick
and muddy. We have a striking instance of this in
two of our meadows, which are watered immediately
from springs that arise in the grounds themselves.
Their crops are early and plentiful, but not of a good
quality, and the land remains unimproved after many
years watering.’
AGRICULTURE.
Culture of
Grass-
parti. AGRICU
“ The writer of this treatise (Mr Boswell), in a for¬
mer edition, had asserted, and in this repeated, the
^ ’ ' contrary efl’ects from a stream very near the spring¬
head, as clear as crystal.
“ The gentleman (Mr Beverly of Keld) whom that
writer mentions in his preface, made a short visit last
spring into Dorsetshire, to satisfy himself of the fact.
The editor had the pleasure to shew him the stream al¬
luded to, which he traced almost to the fountain-head.
It was perfectly clear, and the water was then immedi¬
ately conveyed out of the stream upon the lands adjoin¬
ing, some of which it was then running over j others it
had been upon, and the verdure was then appearing.
The gentleman expressed himself perfectly satisfied with
the fact. To him the editor wishes to refer, &c. Mr
George Culley of Fenton near Wooler in Northumber¬
land, with a truly noble and public spirit that does him
great honour as a friend to his country, sent a very sen¬
sible young man from thence into Dorsetshire, to learn
the art of watering meadows, and to work the whole
season in those meadows under different watermen.
This man was often over those meadows, and worked
in some just below that were watered by the same
stream. Might the editor presume to offer his opinion
upon this seeming contradiction, it is very probable that
the soils, both the upper and under strata, are very dif¬
ferent, as well as those through which the different springs
run.”
From this passage, the latter part of which is not
very intelligible, we may conclude that Mr Boswell
prefers clear to muddy water for overflowing mea¬
dows. In his chapter on land-floods, however, he ex¬
presses himself as follows : “ They will (says he) al¬
ways be found of great use where the sweepings of
towns, farm-yards, &c. are carried down by them j
seldom any other erection is wanting besides a sluice
idrantages0r sma^ ware to divert and convey them over the
rf iami_ ° lands. If the situation of the land happen to be on
the side of a hill, catch-drains are absolutely necessary
for watering the lower part of the hill, after the wa¬
ter has been used upon the upper. In many parts of
the kingdom, where there are large hills or extensive
rising lands, great quantities of water run from them
into the valleys after heavy rains : These might with
proper attention be collected together before they get
to the bottom or flat ground, and from thence he di¬
verted to the purpose of watering those lands that lie
below, with great advantage to the occupier, and at a
Of convert-smah expence. And should the land thus situated be
sng arable arable, yet it would be found a beneficial exchange
to convert it into pasture j particularly if pasture-
ground should be a desirable object to the occupier.
The method of performing it is thus recommended.
Observe the piece of land or field best adapted to the
purpose, both for situation and soil. If it should be
arable, make it first very level j and with the crop of
corn sow all sorts of hay seeds : and as soon as it has
got a green sward it may be laid out. In the lowest
pax-t of the ground draw a deep ditch for the current
to run in through it; and continue it into some ditch
or low part in the lands below, that the water may
be freely carried off, after it has been and while it is
in use. Draw ditches above the field intended to be
watered aslant the sides of the hill, in such a manner
L T U R E.
443
of land.
floods.
401
i»nd into
pasture.
that they may all empty themselves into the head of Culture of
the ditch above mentioned, just where it enters the Grass,
field to be watered j then erecting a ware across this
ditch, the field will be capable of being watered, ac¬
cording to the situation of the ditch in the middle or
on the side of the field. It must then be conveyed by
small mains or trenches, and subdivided again bv
branch-trenches, according to the site of the field and
quantity of water that can be collected 5 trench-drains
must be drawn, and the water conveyed into the ditch
by means of tail-drains. A person unacquainted with
water-meadows cannot conceive the advantage arising
from water thus collected, and conveyed over this
species of water-meadow (if it may be so called), being
generally a firm good soil $ but the water running
down from rich cultivated hills, eminences, &(T.
sweeps away with it, when the rain falls very heavy,
vast quantities of dung dropped by sheep and other
cattle, and the manure carried upon arable lands ; all
which being now diverted and carried over the meadow
with an easy descent, gives time for the particles of
manure to subside upon the ground at one season, nr
of being filtered from it as it dribbles through the grass
at another j after which the warm weather pushes on
vegetation amazingly. Meadows thus situated would
be vastly superior to any other, if they had the advan¬
tage of a constant stream ; but even as they are, taking
the opportunity of watering them by every heavy rain
or flood that happens, they will be found to be very va¬
luable. The occupier of such lands is strenuously ad¬
vised to let no time be lost in appropriating them to
this use ; because these lands are healthy for all kinds
of cattle at almost all seasons $ and the expence of con¬
verting them into this kind of water-meadow is exceed¬
ing small, the annual charges afterwards quite trifling,
and the produce very considerable.”
Mr Wright, having discussed the subject of the qua-402
lity of the water, proceeds to give directions for wa- Wrwht’s
taring through the different months of the year.— di»ections
“ In December and January, the chief care consists for water-
in keeping the land sheltered by the water from
severity of frosty nights. It is necessary, however, ^
through the whole winter, every ten days or fortnight, 0f the year,
to give the land air, by taking the water oft' entirely,
otherwise it would rot and destroy the roots of the
grass. It is necessary, likewise, that a proper person
should go over every meadow at least twice every week,
to see that the water is equally distributed, and to re¬
move all obstructions arising from the continual influx
of weeds, leaves, sticks, and the like. In February
a great deal depends upon care and caution. If you
now suffer the water to remain on the meadow for
many days without intermission, a white scum is raised,
very destructive to the grass 5 and if you take off the
water, and expose the land to a severe frosty night,
without its being previously dxied for a whole day, the
greatest part of the tender grass will be cut off. The
only ways to avoid both these injuries are, either to
take the water off by day to prevent the scum, and
to turn it over again at night to guard against the
frost 5 or, if this practice be too troublesome, both
may be prevented by taking the water entirely off for
a few days and nights, provided the first day of taking
off be a dry one; for if the grass experience one fine
3 K 2 drying
444
AGRICULTURE.
Practice,
4°3
Of eating
off the
Culture of drying day, the frost at night can do little or no in¬
ti rass. jury. The scum is generated chiefly by the warmth of
1 v 1 the sun, when the water is thin and used too plentifully.
Towards the middle of this month we vary our practice
in watering, by using only about half the quantity of
water which is made use of earlier in the winter, all
that is now required being to keep the ground in a tvarm
moist state, and to force vegetation.
“ At the beginning of March, the crop of grass in
the meadows is generally sufficient to afl’ord an abun¬
dant pasture for all kinds of stock, and the water is
taken oft for near a week, that the land may become
dry and firm before the heavy cattle are turned in.—
It is proper, the first week of eating off the spring-feed,
if the season be cold, to give the cattle a little hay each
night.”
“ It is a custom (says Mr Wright) with some
farmers in Hampshire, to eat off the spring grass of
spring grass ti,eir meadows with ewes and lambs, in the same man-
andJambs ner ^iat We a turn'Ps’ inci°sing a cer'
tain portion each day with hurdles or stakes, and gi¬
ving them hay at the same time. This is certainly
making the most of the grass, and an excellent me¬
thod to fine and sweeten the futux-e hei’bage. In this
month and April, you may eat the grass as short and
close as you please, but never later ; for if you trespass
only one week on the month of May, the hay-crop will
be very much impaired, the gi'ass will become soft and
woolly, and have more the appearance and quality of
of an after-math than a crop. At the beginning of May,
or when the spring feeding is finished, the water is
again used for a few days by way of wetting.
“ It is rather remarkable, that watering in autumn,
winter, or spring, will not pi'oduce that kind of her¬
bage which is the cause of the rot in sheep *, but has
been known to remove the cause from meadows, which
How wa- before had that baneful effect. If, however, you use
tering may water only a few days in any of the summer
months, all the lands thus watered will be rendered
unsafe for the pasturage of sheep. Of this I was
lately convinced from an experiment made by a friend.
At the beginning of July, when the hay was carried
off, and the water rendered extremely muddy and
abundant bv several days rain, he thought proper to
throw it over his meadows for ten days, in which
time a large collection of extremely rich manure was
made upon the land. In about a month the mea¬
dow was covered with uncommon luxuriancy and
blackness of herbage. Into this grass were turned
eight sound ewes and two lambs. In six weeks time
the lambs were killed, and discovered strong symptoms
of rottenness j and in about a month afterwards one
of the ewes was killed, and though it proved very
fat, the liver was putrid and replete with the insect
called the fluke or weevil: the other ewes wei’e sold to
a butcher, and all proved unsound. This experiment,
however, convinces me, by the very extraordinary im¬
provement made thereby in the meadow, that muddy
water in the summer is much more enriching than it is
in autumn or winter ; and ought, therefore, to be used
for a week at least every wet summer, notwithstanding
its inconveniences to sheep, the most profitable species
of stock.”
Mr Boswell, besides his general directions for wa¬
tering, gives many plans of the ditches, drains, &c»
occasion
the rot in
sheep.
for particular meadows, some of them done from an Culture of
actual survey. But these being confined to particu- Grass,
lar situations, we shall here only speak of his method ''■““v——<
in general. In his third chapter, entitled A
Description of fFater-meadoivs, he observes that “ lands well’s ge-
capable of being watered, lie generally only on oneneral direc.
side, and sometimes on both sides of the stream de-t*ons('or
signed to supply them with water. In the former case,"*1161111®’
when they have a pretty quick descent, the land may
be often watered by a main drawn out of the stream
itself, without any wai'e j” though he acknowledges that
it is by far the best way to erect a ware, and to draw
mains on each side, to dispose of the water to the best
advantage.
Boggy lands require more and longer continued wa¬
tering than such as are sandy or gx-avelly j and the lar¬
ger the body of water that can be brought upon them,
the better. The weight and strength of the water will
greatly assist in compressing the soil, and destroying
the roots of the weeds that grow upon it j nor can the
water be kept too long upon it, particularly in the win¬
ter season j and the closer it is fed the better.
To improve strong clay soils, we must endeavour to
the utmost to procure the greatest possible descent from
the trench to the trench drain j which is best done by
making the ti’ench drains as deep as possible, and ap¬
plying the materials drawn out of them to raise the
trenches. Then, with a strong body of water, taking
the advantage of the autumnal floods, and keeping the
water some time upon them at that season, and as often
as convenient during the winter, the greatest improve¬
ment on this sort of soils may be made. Warm sand*
or gravelly soil, are the most profitable under the wa-
tei’ing system, provided the water can be brought over
them at pleasure. In soils of this kind, the water must
not be kept long at a time, but often shifted, thorough¬
ly drained, and the land frequently refreshed with it:
under which circumstances the pi’ofit is immense. A
spi’ing-feeding, a crop of hay, and two after-maths, may
be obtained in a year; and this, probably, where in a
dry summer scarce grass enough could be found to keep
a sheep alive. If the stream be large, almost any
quantity of land may be watered from it; and though
the expence of a ware over it is great, it will soon be
repaid by the additional crop. If the stream is small,
the expence will be so in proportion. 4odf
The following method of improving a water-mea-Method of
dow that was springy has been tried by Mr Boswell imPr<?Tine
with success. The meadow had been many years
watered by a spring rising just above it from a barren ^ow.
sandy heath $ the soil near the surface was in some
places a gravelly sand, in others a spongy cork, both
upon a strong clay and sand mixture, which retained
the draining of the lands above it. Whenever it had
been watered, and left to drain itself dry, a yellowish
red water stood in many parts, and oozed out of others j
the herbage being no other than a pool’, miserable,
hairy grass and small sedge. Chalk and ashes had
been thrown over it to very little purpose. It was then
drained underground aslant all the different descents,
and all these drains carried into one large di'ain, which
had been already cut for the purpose of cai’rying off the
water when the meadow was overflowed. These drains
were cut quite through the mixture of clay and sand,
and as much deeper as the fall of the ground below
n would
’art 1.
A G R I C U
iillt.
Culture of would admit of j then, with chalk cut for the purpose,
Grass, small hollow drains were formed at the bottom of these j
the drains were then tilled up with the materials that
came out.
This was done in the beginning of summer, and the
work frequently examined through the season ; the soil
was found firmer than before, and none of that nasty
red water to be met with upon the surface, though it
continually oozed into the drains. In autumn the mea¬
dow was again prepared for waterings, by repairing
those trenches and drains that were properly situated ;
and by cutting others where wanted, for the purpose of
watering the meadow. The water being then brought
over it from the same spring as before, the event an¬
swered the most sanguine wishes of the proprietor j the
effects were visible the first year, and the ground has
4®7 been constantly improving ever since.
^ kndson ^oswe^ a^s0 inf°rms us» that a gentleman in
he sides of Scotland had applied to him for directions to water
some lands lying on the sides of hills, where the de¬
scent is quick $ and of which there are many in this
country, as well as in the north of England. It would
be difficult to water such lands by means of drains and
trenches according to the directions already given j be¬
cause the bends in the trenches must be very near to¬
gether and large, as the water must flow out of the
trench above the bend to flow over the pane below it j
the number and size would likewise be inconvenient,
and greatly offend the eye.
Lands of this sort are generally capable of being
ploughed j in which case our author directs them to
be once ploughed in the spring, and sown with oats
or any other kind of grain that will rot the sward.
When the grain is harvested, plough the land across j
the last ploughing with the Kentish plough, which has a
moveable mouldboard, and is called a turn-wrist plough.
This turns the furrows down the side of the hill, the
horses going forwards and backwards in the same fur¬
rows. By this means the land is laid flat without any
open furrows in it: dress it down in the spring very
fine, and sow it with oats, and mix with some kinds of
grass seeds very thick. Thus the ground will have but
few irregularities; and as soon as the corn is carried
off, or the following spring at farthest, the mains and
drains may be cut out.
For watering coarse lands that are firm enough to
bear the plough, and situated near a stream, our author
gives the following directions.
“ Let the land thus situated be ploughed once in
the spring, and sown with any grain that will rot the
sward. As soon as the crop is off, plough it again,
and leave it rough through the winter. Work it down
early in the spring, and plough it in the direction the
trenches are to lie, making the ridges of a proper size
for watering, ten or twelve yards wide for instance }
work it fine ; then gather the ridges up again in the
same manner, making the last furrows of each ridge
as deep as possible. If the land be not fine, dress it
down again, and gather it up a second time if neces¬
sary ; and with a shovel throw the earth from the
edges of the furrows to the tops of the ridges, to give
the greatest possible descent from the trench to the
drain. Sow it with oats and grass seeds very thick ;
and after the corn is canned off, the trenches may be
formed upon the top of each ridge, dispersing the fur-
40S
Sf water-
<*g coarse
aads.
L T U R E. 445
rows with a spade as much as the fall of the land will Culture t»f
admit of for the drains ; taking care to procure suffi- Grass,
cient fall at all events, to drain the lands after they ' C" ■,J
have been watered. By this method the crop of corn
will nearly pay all the expence, and the land will be in
excellent order.”
Alter the work of watering a meadow is totally fi-Of the m&-
nished, and the hay carried off, cattle may be let in to nag®ment
eat the after-math. Wrhen this is done, it will then
be necessary to examine whether or not the mains have waterinir,1
suffered any injury from their feet; whether there be
quantities of mud or sand collected at the angles, &c.
all of which must be thrown out and the breaches re¬
paired ; by which means the trenches, drains, &c. will
last three years, but otherwise not more than two.
The roots, mud, &c. may be used in repairing the
breaches, but never left upon the sides of the trenches
out of which they are taken. The tail-drains require to
be cleansed oftener than any of the other works, fer
this obvious reason, that the mud, &c. is carried down
from all the others into them j where, if it be allowed
to accumulate, it occasions a stagnation of water upon
the meadow itself. In repairing the trenches, particu¬
lar care ought to be taken that the workmen do not
make them any wider than before, which they are very
apt to do 5 neither are they to be allowed to throw the
materials which they dig out in a ridge behind the
edge of the trench, which both widens it and promotes
weeds.
During the time of watering, it will be necessary toGf the
examine the meadow every two or three days in ordert,mes the
to remove obstructions, &c. If the drains should bev''ater
filled with water and run over, they ought to be made
deeper j or if this cannot be done, they should bethemea-
widened. In the winter time a regular strong waterdows.
should be kept, avoiding very strong great floods. In
this season the water may be kept on the ground with
safety for a month or even six weeks, if the soil be
corky or boggy, or a strong clay 5 but not quite
so long if it be gravel or sand. At the second wa¬
tering a fortnight or three weeks will be sufficient ;
and after Candlemas a fortnight will be rather too
long. At the third watering a week will be sufficient,
which will bring it to about the middle of March ; by
which time, if the weather be tolerably mild, the grass
will be long enough for the ewes and lambs, or fatting
lambs j which may then be turned into the meadow
with great advantage. Even in the end of February,
if the winter has been very mild, the grass will be
long enough for them. Here they may be permitted
to feed till the beginning of May, changing them into
different meadows. As soon as they are taken out,
the water must be turned in for a week, carefully ex¬
amining every trench and drain for the reasons already
given. The water is then to be shifted into others,
alternately watering and draining, lessening the time
the water remains upon it as the weather grows
warmer j and in five, six, or seven weeks, the grass
will be fit to be mown for hay, and produce from
one to two tons, or even more, an acre, upon good
gi’ound.
Mr Boswell directs, that about a week before the
grass is to be mown, the water should be. let into the
meadow for 24 hours j which, he says will make the
ground moist at the bottom, the scythe will go through
ite.
411
Of spring¬
feeding.
412
Qf water¬
ing from
the end of
autumn to
Candlemas,
it the more easily, and the grass will be mown closer
to the around. This practice, however, is entirely
disapproved of by Mr Wright. “ Though it may
prevail in Dorsetshire (says he), it is very seldom ad¬
visable, for the following reasons : Water made to
run through a thick crop of grass, though it may ap¬
pear ever so pure, wall leave a certain quantity of ad¬
herent scum or sediment, which can never be separated
from the hay, but will render it unpalatable, if not pre¬
judicial, to the cattle that eat it. And this wetting
of the land and grass will impede the drying or making
of the hay perhaps some days, which in difficult sea¬
sons is of very great consequence, and it will like¬
wise make the turf too soft and tender to support the
wheels of a loaded waggon in carrying off the hay.
Besides, there is reason to believe that one day’s wet¬
ting in the summer, will, upon most meadows, endanger
the soundness of every sheep that feeds upon the after-
math.”
The spring-feeding ought never to be done by hea¬
vier cattle than sheep or calves; for large cattle do
much hurt by poaching the ground with their feet,
destroying the trenches, and spoiling the grass. Mr
Boswell likewise greatly recommends a proper use of
spring floods, from which he says much benefit may be
derived j but, if there is any quantity of grass in the
meadows not eaten, these floods must be kept out,
otherwise the grass will be spoiled : for they bring
with them such quantities of sand and mud, which
stick to the grass, that the cattle will rather starve
than taste it. Great quantities of grass or after-math
are frequently spoiled in flat countries by the floods
which take place in the fall. In the winter time*
however, when the ground is bare, the sand and mud
brought down by the floods is soon incorporated with
the soil, and becomes an excellent manure. The cer¬
tain rule with regard to this matter is, “ Make use of
the floods when the grass cannot be used 5 avoid them
when the grass is long or soon to be cut.”
“ It has often been a subject of dispute (says Mr
Boswell), whether, from the latter end of autumn to
Candlemas, the throwing a very strong- body of water,
where it can be done, over the meadows, is of any es-
'sential service or not ? Those who consider it as ad¬
vantageous, assert, that when the waters run rude and
strong over the ground, they beat down and rot the
tufts of foggy or rough grass, sedges, &c. that are al¬
ways to be found in many parts of coarse meadow-
ground ; and therefore are of peculiar service to
them. On the other side it is alleged, that by com¬
ing in so large a body, it beats the ground (in the
weak places particularly) so bare, that the sward is
destroyed $ and also brings with it such quantities of
seeds of weeds, that at the next hay season the land in
all those bare places bears a large burden of weeds, but
little grass.
“ The general opinion of the watermen upon this
point is, that in water meadows which are upon a
warm, sandy, or gravelly soil, with no great depth of
loam upon them, rude strong watering, even in winter,
alway does harm without any possible essential service.
On the contrary, cold strong clay land will bear a great
deal of water a long time without injury ; and boggy,
corky, or spongy soil, will also admit ot a very large
and strong body of water upon it with great advantage
AGRICULTURE. Practice
for almost any length of time at that season, provided
the drains are made wide and deep enough to carry it
oft', without forcing back upon the end of the panes.
The weight and force of the water vastly assists in
compressing those soils, which only want solidity and
tenacity to make them produce great burdens of hay :
nothing, in their opinion, corrects and improves those
soils so much as a very strong body of water, kept a
considerable time upon them at that season.”
Notwithstanding the above reasons, however, Mr
Boswell informs us, that he has doubts upon the sub¬
ject ", nor can he by any means acquiesce in this opi¬
nion, unless, by rude strong waters he is permitted to
understand only rather a larger quantity of water con¬
veyed over the land at this early season than ought to
be used in the spring or summer : unmanageable waters
he believes always hurtful.
“ It may be proper just to add (continues he), that
as soon as the hay is carried OS’ the meadows, cattle ot
any sort except sheep may be put to eat the grass out
of the trenches, and what may be left by the mowers.
This perhaps will last them a week; when the water
may be put into the meadows in the manner already
described, taking care to mow the long grass which
obstructs the water in the trenches j and this mowing
is best done when the water is in them. Let the weeds,
leaves, &c. be taken out and put in heaps, to be car¬
ried away into the farm yards ", examine the trenches,
make up the breaches, &c. take particular care that
the water only dribbles over every part of the panes
as thin as possible, this being the warmest season of the
year. The first watering should not be suft’ered to last
longer than two or three days before it is shifted off
(and if the season be wet, perhaps not so long, as warmth
seems to be the greatest requisite after the land is once
wet to assist vegetation) to another part or meadow
beat out by the cattle, by this time fit to take it. Do
by this meadow exactly the same, and so by a third
and fourth, if as many meadows belong to the occupier.
Observe at all times, when the water is taken out of a
meadow, to draw up the drain-sluice hatches; as, with¬
out doing that, watering is an injury. By the time
that three or four parts are thus regularly watered, the
first will have an after-math, with such rich and beau¬
tiful verdure as will be astonishing; and both quantity
and quality will be beyond conception better than if
the lands had not been watered.
“ Hence we see why every person should, if possible,
have three or four meadows that can be watered ; for
here, while the cattle are eating the first, the second is
growing, the third draining, &c. and the fourth under
water. In this manner the after-math will in a mild
season last till Christmas. A reason was given why the
spring-grass should be fed only by sheep or calves ; a
reason equally cogent may be given, why the after-grass
ought not to be fed by them, because it will infallibly
rot them. No sheep (says our author), except those
which are just fat, must ever be suffered even for an
hour in water meadows except in the spring of the
year ; and even then care must be taken that every part
of the meadows have been well watered, and that they
are not longer kept in them than the beginning of May.
Although at present it is unknown what fs the occasion
of the rot, yet certain it is, that even half an hour’s feed¬
ing in unhealthy ground has often proved fatal. After
Culture of
Grass,
Meadows.
Part I. A G R I C U
Ciiluire of » short time they begin to lose their flesh, grow weaker
Grass. and weaker j the best feeding in the kingdom cannot
~—* ' improve them after they once fall away; and when
they die, animalcula like plaice are found in the livers.
t Scarcely any ever recover from a slight attack; but
IvVater when fartherxadvanced, it is always fatal. Guard by
I night not all means against keeping the water too long upon the
o be kept meadow in warm weather; it will very soon produce a
0 l°mea substance like cream, which is prejudicial to the
lows. £rass, and shows that it has been too long upon the
ground already. If it he permitted to remain a little
longer, a thick scum will settle upon the grass, of the
consistence of glue, and as tough as leather, which will
quite destroy it wherever it is suffered to be produced.
The same had effects seem to arise from rude waters;
^ neither can the scum easily be got off.
advantages “ Rolling meadows in the spring of the year is an
id rolling excellent method. It should be done after Candlemas,
when the meadow has been laid dry a week. It should
he always rolled lengthwise of the panes, up one side of
the trench and down the other. Rolling also contri¬
butes much to the grass being cut close to the surface
when mown, which is no small advantage; for the lit¬
tle hillocks, spewings of worms, ant-hills, &c. are by
this means pressed close to the ground, which would
otherwise obstruct the scythe and take off its edge ; and
to avoid that inconvenience, the workmen always mow
over them.”
As a water-meadow has with so much justice been
called a hot-bed of grass, and as the practice of flood¬
ing tends so completely to ameliorate the poorest soils,
and to extirpate heath and all coarse and woody plants,
we are satisfied that the knowledge of it cannot be
too extensively diffused, or too minutely inquired into.
That it may be more clearly understood, therefore, we
shall here give a statement of the mode in which it is
practised in Gloucestershire, as explained from Mr
(plained ^ pamphlet, by the Rev. Mr Charles Findlater,
>y MrFind-*n a letter to the conductors of the Farmer’s Magazine,
ater.
L T U R E.
41;
•Valering
• late XII.
Fig. 5. represents a float-meadow under irrigation ;
the dark shading representing the water.
“ When the hatch of the water dam-dike (marked II)
is lifted up, the water runs in the natural channel of
the river; when the hatch is shut, as represented in the
figures, the natural channel is laid dry below it, and
the water runs laterally along the main-feeder, in the
direction of the arrows, and is from it distributed into
the floating gutters (g-,g,g,g'), which are formed along
the crowns of the ridges, into which the meadow is
arranged, overflowing on both sides of said gutters, and
running down the sides of the ridges into the furrows
or drains betwixt the ridges (r/, d, d, r/,), which drains
discharge it into the main drain, whereby it is returned
into its natural channel at the foot of the meadow.
“ The marks (o o, or A A), and the tufts, in the
main-feeder and the floating gutters, denote—The first,
obstructions (made by small stakes, or sods, or stones)
to raise the water, and make it flow over from the
main-feeder into the floating-gutters, or from the latter
over the sides of the ridges ; the second, nicks, made in
their sides, with a similar intention. If, however, the
main-feeder and floating gutters are properly construct¬
ed at their first formation, these supplementary aids will
be, in a great measure, unnecessary: For the main-
feeder ought, at its entrance, to be of dimensions just
sufficient to admit the quantity of water which is to he Culture
conveyed to the meadow ; and gradually to contract Grass,
its size as it goes along, in order that the water, for v—
want of room, may be forced over its side, and into the
floating-gutters: these last ought to he formed after the
same model, that the water may, by their primary con¬
struction, overflow their sides, through their whole
course. That as little as possible of the surface may be
unproductive, a similar construction should be adopted
for the drains; they ought to be narrow nearest to the
main-feeder, where they receive little water, and to
diverge as they approach the main-drain ; which last
is, for the same reason, similarly constructed. In the
plan, this mode of construction is made obvious to the
eye.
“ The meadow, in this plate, must be conceived to
lie in a regular and very gentle slope from the main-
feeder to the main-drain.
“ Fig. 4. and 5. present a view of the ridges cut
across, with the feeding-gutter (^) upon their crown,
and the furrows, or discharging drains (d, d) along
their sides. Fig. 5. shows the shape (of gradual slope)
into which they ought to be formed at first, were it not
for the expence, i. e. when they are to he formed out
of grass fields, preserving the grass sward. Fig. 4. re¬
presents the mode in which they may, more cheaply,
though more roughly, be formed at first ; when the
depositions of sediment from the floating water, will
gradually fill the shoulders of the floating-gutters, up
to the dotted line, forming the ridge into the shape of
%• 5-
“ In the formation of the meadow (particularly if the
declivity is very small), care should be taken to lose as
little as possible of the level in the mam-feeder, and in
the floating gutters; in order that the greater descent
may he given to the water down the sides of the ridges,
from the floating-gutters to their discharging drains,
that the water may float over the ridges sides with the
more rapidity, and in the more quick succession.
“ he distance from the floating-gutter to the dis¬
charging-drain, ought not to be less than four yards,
i. e. the breadth of the ridge eight yards ; nor more
than five yards and a half, i. e. the breadth of the ridge
eleven yards.
“ It is evident from the plan, that, when the hatch
(H) is lifted up, the water resumes its natural channel,
and the meadow becomes at once dry. Its figure frees
it instantly of all surface water. If any of it is wet from
springs, these must he carried off' by under-draining:
for it must he thoroughly drained before you can drown
it to good effect.
“ This figure represents a float-meadow, where the Fig. 7,
declivity is unequal, and which, also, is too large, for
the command of water, to admit of being floated all at
once.
“ In this meadow, it is supposed that the ground rises,
from the natural channel of the river, up to (F 1.),
which is a feeder, with its floating-gutters (g, g,g, g) ;
and thence descends to the hollow (D 1.), which is a
drain communicating with the main-drain, and re¬
ceiving the water from the lesser drains or receiving
furrows (r/, d, of). It is supposed that the ground rises
again from the hollow (D 1.), up to the second feeder
(F 2.) ; and thence descends again into the hollow,
along which is conducted the receiving-drain (D 2.)<.
The -
447
448 ' AGRICULTURE. Practice,
Culture of The remainder of the meadow Is supposed to lie In are-
Grass. gular slope, from the main-feeder to the drain last men-
* r*—tioned, and the main-drain. The letter (r) marks a
very small rut, made with a spade, or triangular hoe,
for conducting water to places upon which it appears
not to scatter regularly.
“ The hatch upon the river’s natural channel, and that
upon the feeder (F 2.) are represented as shut; and,
consequently the natural channel, together with that
part of the meadow which is floated from the feeder
(F 2.), as dry. The hatches upon the feeder (F I.),
and upon the main-feeder, are represented as drawn up j
and, consequently the two parts of the meadow, floated
from them, are represented as under water.
Fig. 3. “ This represents catch-meadow, for a steep decli¬
vity, or side of a hill. It is called catch, because,
when the whole is watered at once, the water float¬
ing over the uppermost pitches is catched in the float¬
ing gutters, which distribute the water over the inferior
pitches.
“ The lateral horizontal feeding-gutters, which scatter
the water over the first and second pitches, are repre¬
sented as shut by sods or stones, &c. (8) j and conse¬
quently these first and second pitches appear dry : The
whole water is represented as passing down the main-
feeder into the lowest floating-gutter, whence it floats
the lowest or third pitch ; and is received into the drain
at the foot of the meadow, to be returned by it into
the natural channel.
“ When the whole is to be floated at once, the ob¬
structions (8) are taken from the lateral floating-gutters:
obstructions, mean time, are placed in the main-feeder,
immediately under the floating-gutters, to force the
water into said gutters.
“ N. B. In obstructing the main-feeder, care must be
taken not to obstruct it entirely, but to allow always
a part of the water it contains to escape in it to the
lower pitches ; for, supposing the main-feeder to be en¬
tirely shut under the feeding-gutter (g I.), so that the
whole water was made to run over the first pitch, from
said gutter and the horizontal part of the main-drain,
the water filtrated through the grass of the first-pitch,
would be so very much deprived of its fertilizing quali¬
ties, as to be incapable of communicating almost any
perceptible benefit to the pitches lying below. Water
so filtrated, is called technically used water; and is
esteemed next to useless j and for this reason, the grass
nearest the floating-gutters is most abundant, and of
best quality, in all kinds of meadow.
“ The proper breadth of the pitches of catch-meadow
from gutter to gutter, does not seem well determined j
they ought, probably, not to be much broader than
the distance from the floating-gutter to the receiving-
drain in float-meadow, i. e. from four to five or six
yards.—-Catch-meadow is not so much prized as float-
meadow.
“ In the construction of the float-meadows, the float¬
ing gutters die away to nothing before they meet the
main-drain } the water from the end of the gutter finding
its way over the intervening space, or being assisted in
scattering by small ruts marked (r). The receiving-
drains should, for like reason, not be commenced till
within half a ridge breadth of the main-feeder.”
It is to be observed with regard to the last of these
modes of flooding, called catch-meadow, that although
lands thus watered do not become equal to more level Rotalion
grounds subjected to the same process, or float-meadow, Crops,
yet that the improvement of them is perhaps greater in v—-
proportion to the value of the lands in their original
state j for, in this way, lands upon the declivity of
hills, which once produced next to nothing, are enabled
to bear aconsiderable crop of valuable grass. As streams
of water are in high countries frequently found descend¬
ing from very lofty situations, and as in these cases the
expence of forming catch-meadow is very trifling, it may
be regarded as of the most extensive utility.
Sect. V. Rotation of Crops.
416
No branch of husbandry requires more skill and sa-Rotation of i
gacity than a proper rotation of crops, so as to keep thec^0Ps•
ground always in heart, and yet to draw out of it the
greatest profit possible. Some plants rob the soil, others
are gentle to it: some bind, others loosen. The nice
point is, to intermix crops, so as to make the greatest
profit consistently with keeping the ground in trim. In
that view, the nature of the plants employed in hus¬
bandry must be accurately examined. _ 4I7
The difference between culmiferous and leguminous Culraife-
plants, is occasionally mentioned above. With re-rous and k-
spect to the present subject, a closer inspection is neces-g™™01'*
sary. Culmiferous plants, having small leaves and few1*
in number, depend mostly on the soil for nourishment
and little on the air. During the ripening of the seed,
they draw probably their whole nourishment from the
soil; as the leaves by this time, being dry and wither¬
ed, must have lost their power of drawing nourishment
from the air. Now, as culmiferous plants are chiefly
cultivated for their seed, and are not cut down till the
seed be fully ripe, they may be pronounced all of them
to be robbers, some more some less. But such plants,
while young, are all leaves j and in that state draw
most of their nourishment from the air. Hence it is,
that where cut green for food to cattle, a culmiferous
crop is far from being a robber. A hay-crop accor¬
dingly, even where it consists mostly of rye-grass, is not
a robber, provided it be cut before the seed is formed 5
which at any rate it ought to be, if one would have
hay in perfection. And the foggage, excluding the
frost by covering the ground, keeps the roots warm. A
leguminous plant, by its broad leaves, draws much of
its nourishment from the air. A cabbage, which has
very broad leaves, and a multitude of them, owes its
growth more to the air than to the soil. One fact is
certain, that a cabbage cut and hung up in a damp
place, preserves its verdure longer than other plants.
At the same time a seed is that part of a plant which
requires the most nourishment; and for that nourish¬
ment a culmiferous plant must be indebted entirely to
the soil. A leguminous crop, on the contrary, when
cut green for food, must be very gentle to the ground.
Pease and beans are leguminous plants ; hut being cul¬
tivated for seed, they seem to occupy a middle station:
their seed makes them more severe than other legumi¬
nous crops cut green $ their leaves, which grow till
reaping, make them less severe than a culmiferous plant
left to ripen.
These plants are distinguished no less remarkably by
the following circumstance. All the seeds of a culmi-
ferous plant ripen at the same time. As soon as they
begin
Put I. A G R I C U
Rotation of begin to form, the plant becomes stationary, the leaves
Crops, wither, the roots cease to push, and the plant, when
    cut down, is blanched and sapless. The seeds of a le¬
guminous plant are formed successively: flowers and
fruit appear at the same time in different parts of the
plant. I his plant accordingly is continually growing,
and pushing its roots. Hence the value of bean or
pease straw above that of wheat er oats: the latter is
withered and dry when the crop is cut j the former
green and succulent. The difference therefore, with
respect to the soil, between a culmiferous and legumi¬
nous crop, is great. The latter, growing till cut
down, keeps the ground in constant motion, and leaves
it to the plough loose and mellow. The former gives
over growing long before reaping; and the ground,
by want of motion, turns compact and hard. Nor is
this all. Dew falling on a culmiferous crop after the
ground begins to harden, rests on the surface, and is
sucked up by the next sun. Dew that falls on a legu¬
minous crop, is shaded from the sun by the broad
leaves, and sinks at leisure into the ground. The
ground accordingly, after a culmiferous crop, is not
only hard, but dry: after a leguminous crop, it is not
only loose, but soft and unctuous.
Of all culmiferous plants, wheat is the most severe,
by the long time it occupies the ground without ad¬
mitting a plough. And as the grain is heavier than
that of barley or oats, it probably requires more nou¬
rishment than either. It is observed above, that as
pease and beans draw part of their nourishment from
the air by their green leaves while allowed to stand,
they draw the less from the ground; and by their con¬
stant growing they leave it in good condition for sub¬
sequent crops. In both respects they are preferable to
any culmiferous crop.
Cultniferous crops, as observed above, are not rob¬
bers when cut green: the soil, far from hardening, is
kept in constant motion by the pushing of the roots,
and is left more tender than if it had been left at rest
without any bearing crop.
Bulbous-rooted plants are above all successful in di¬
viding and pulverizing the soil. Potato-roots grow
six, eight, or ten inches under the surface $ and, by
their size and number, they divide and pulverize the
soil better than can be done by the plough j consequent¬
ly, whatever be the natural colour of the soil, it is
black when a potato-crop is taken up. The potato,
however, with respect to its quality of dividing the
soil, must yield to a carrot or parsnip*, which are large
roots, and pierce often to the depth of 18 inches.
The turnip, by its tap-root, divides the soil more than
can be done by a fibrous-rooted plant; but as its bul¬
bous root grows mostly above ground, it divides the
-soil less than the potato, the carrot, or the parsnip.
.Red clover, in that respect, may be put in the same
class with turnip.
Whether potatoes or turnip be the more gentle crop,
appears a puzzling question. The former bears seed,
and probably draws more nourishment from the soil
than the latter. On the other hand, potatoes divide
the soil more than turnip, and leave it more loose and
friable. It appears no less puzzling, to determine be¬
tween cabbage and turnip: the former draws more of
its nourishment from the air, the latter leaves the soil
more free and open.
Vol. I. Part II. f '
L T U R E. 449
The result of the whole is what follows : Culmi- Rotation of
xerous plants are robbers $ some more, some less : they Crops,
at the same time bind the soil 5 some more, some less. l~ ■
Leguminous plants in both respects are opposite : if
any of them rob the soil, it is in a very slight degree j
and all of them without exception loosen the soil. A
culmxferous crop, however, is generally the more
profitable: but few soils can long bear the burden
of such crops, unless relieved by interjected legumi¬
nous crops. These, on the other hand, without a mix¬
ture of culmiferous crops, would soon render the soil
too loose.
It is scarce necessary to be mentioned, being known The^nature
to every farmer, that clay answers best for wheat, of soil con-
moist clay lor beans, loam for barley and pease, liebt sidcred,
cr.:i  1— —*i e > . . . ° . with re¬
soil for turnip, sandy soil for rye and buck-wheat $ and wit{j
that oats thrive better in coarse soil than any other of
grain. Now, in directing a rotation, it is not suffi-crops,
cient that a culmiferous crop be always succeeded by
leguminous: attention must also be given, that no crop
be introduced that is unfit for the soil. Wheat, being
a great binder, requires more than any other crop a
leguminous crop to follow. But every such crop is
not proper: potatoes are the greatest openers of soil j
but they are improper in a wheat soil. Neither will
turnip answer, because it requires a light soil. A very
loose soil, after a crop of rye, requires rye-grass to bind
it, or the treading of cattle in pasturing : but to bind
the soil, wheat must not be ventured j for it succeeds
ill in loose soil.
Another consideration of moment in directing the
rotation is, to avoid crops that encourage weeds. Pease
is the fittest of all crops for succeeding to wheat, be¬
cause it renders the grounds loose and mellow, and the
same soil agrees with both. But beware of pease, un¬
less the soil be left by the wheat perfectly free of weeds 5
because pease, if not an extraordinary crop, foster
weeds. Barley may be ventured after wheat, if the
farmer be unwilling to lose a crop. It is indeed a rob¬
ber } better, however, any crop, than run the hazard of
poisoning the soil with weeds. But to prevent the ne¬
cessity of barley after wheat, the land ought to be fal¬
lowed before the wheat i it cleans the ground thorough¬
ly, and makes pease a secure crop after wheat. And
after a good crop of pease, barley never fails. A horse-
hoed crop of turnip is equal to a fallow for rooting out
weeds j but turnip does not suit land that is proper for
wheat. Cabbage does well in wheat soil j and a horse-
hoed crop of cabbage, which eradicates weeds, is a
good preparation for wheat to be succeeded by pease ;
and a crop of beans, diligently hand-hoed, is in that
view little inferior. As red clover requires the ground
to be perfectly clean, a good crop of it ensures wheat,
and next pease. In loam, a drilled crop of turnip or
potatoes prepares the ground, equal to a fallow, for the
same succession.
Another rule is, to avoid a frequent repetition of the
same species j for to produce good crops, change of spe¬
cies is no less necessary than change of seed. The same
species returning every second or third year, will infal¬
libly degenerate, and be a scanty crop. This is re¬
markably the case of red clover. Nor will our fields
bear pleasantly perpetual crops of wheat after fallow,
which is the practice of some English farmers.
Hitherto of rotation in the same field, We add one
3 L rule
4T9
Exception'
able rota¬
tions.
45o A G R I C U
notation of rule concerning rotation in different fields j which is,
Crops, to avoid crowding crops one after another in point ot
w-v—-' time j but to choose such as admit intervals sufficient
for leisurely dressing, which gives opportunity to ma¬
nage all with the same hands, and with the same cattle j
for example, beans in January or February, pease and
oats in March, barley and potatoes in April, turnip in
June or July, wheat and rye in October.
For illustrating the foregoing rules, a few instances
of exceptionable rotations will not be thought amiss.
The following is an usual rotation in Norfolk. First,
wheat after red clover. Second, barley. Third, tur¬
nip. Fourth, barley with red clover. Fifth, clover
cut for hay. Sixth, a second year’s crop of clover,
commonly pastured. Dung is given to the wheat and
turnip.—Against this rotation several objections lie.
Barley after wheat is improper. The two crops of bar¬
ley are too near together. The second crop of clover
must be very bad, if pasturing be the best way ol con¬
suming it ; and if bad, it is a great encourager of
weeds. But the strongest objection is, that red clover
repeated so frequently in the same field cannot fail to
degenerate and of this the Norfolk farmers begin to
be sensible. Salton in East Lothian is a clay soil *, and
the rotation there usually has been wheat after fallow
and dung. Second, barley after two ploughings; the
one before winter, the other immediately before the
seed is sown. Third, oats. Fourth, pease. Fifth,
barley. Sixth, oat'1 *, and then fallow. This rotation
consists chiefly of robbing crops. Pease are the only
leguminous crop, which, even with the fallow, is not
sufficient to loosen a stiff soil. But the soil is good,
which in some measure hides the badness of the rota¬
tion. About Seaton, and all the way from Preston to
Gosford, the ground is still more severely handled:
wheat after fallow and dung, barley, oats, pease, wheat,
barley, oats, and then another fallow. The soil is ex¬
cellent ; and it ought indeed to be so, to support many
rounds of such cropping.
In the parishes of Tranent, Aberlady, Dirleton,
North-Berwick, and Athelstoneford, the following ro¬
tations were formerly universal, and to this day are
much more frequent than any other mode.
1. After fallow and dung, wheat, barley, oats, pease
and beans, barley, oats, wheat.
2. After fallow and dung, barley, oats, pease and
beans, wheat, barley, oats, pease, wheat.
3. After fallow and dung, barley, oats, pease, barley,
oats, wheat.
4. After fallow and dung, barley, oats, beans, wheat,
pease, barley, oats.
In the several Tours that are published by Young,
are found, in the best counties of England, examples
without end, of rotations no less exceptionable than
many of those mentioned.
Fields not Where a field is laid down for pasture in order to be
to be kep* recruited, it is commonly left in that state many years j
too long m £0l. ’j. ’g t}ie universal opinion, that the longer it lies,
the richer it becomes for bearing corn. This may be
true } but in order to determine the mode of cropping,
the important point is, what upon the whole is the most
profitable rotation j not what may produce luxuriant
crops at a distant period. Upon that point it may be
affirmed, that the farmer who keeps a field in pasture
pasture.
L T U R E. Practice.
beyond a certain time, loses every year considerably •, Rotation of
and that a few luxuriant crops of corn, after 20 years Crops,
of pasture, and still more after 30, will not make up * —J
the loss.
Pasture-grass, while young, maintains many animals j
and the field is greatly recruited by what they drop j
it is even recruited by hay crops, provided the grass be
cut before seeding. But as old grass yields little pro¬
fit, the field ought to be taken up for corn when the
pasture begins to fail j and after a few crops, it ought
to be laid down again with grass seeds. Seduced by a
chimerical notion, that a field, by frequent corn crops,
is fatigued, and requires rest like a labouring man or
animal, careful farmers give long rest to their fields by
pasture, never adverting that it affords little profit. It
ought to be their study, te improve their soil, by mak¬
ing it free, and also retentive of moisture. If they ac¬
complish these ends, they need not be afraid of exhaust¬
ing the soil by cropping. 42I
Where a farmer has access to no manure but what Examples
is his own production, the case under consideration, of rotatiea.
there are various rotations of crops, all of them good,
though perhaps not equally so. We shall begin with
two examples, one in clay and one in free soil, each of
the farms 90 acres. Six acres are to be inclosed for a
kitchen garden, in which there must be annually a crop
of red clover, for summer food to the working cattle.
As there are annually 12 acres in hay, and 12 in pas¬
ture, a single plough with good cattle will be sufficient
to command the remaining 60 acres.
JRotation in a clay soil.
1795-
Fallow.
Wheat.
Pease.
Barley.
Hay.
Oats.
Pasture
1796.
Wheat.
Pease.
Barley.
Hay.
Oats.
Fallow.
Pasture
1797-
Pease.
Barley.
Hay.
Oats.
Fallow.
Wheat.
Pasture.
1798.
Barley.
Hay.
Oats.
Fallow.
Wheat.
Pease.
Pasture.
1799-
Hay.
Oats.
Fallow.
Wheat.
Pease.
Barley.
Pasture,
1800.
Oats.
Fallow.
Wheat.
Pease.
Barley.
Hay.
Pasture.
When the rotation is completed, the seventh inclo¬
sure, having been six years in pasture, is ready to be
taken up for a rotation of crops, which begins with
oats in the year 1801, and proceeds as in the sixth in¬
closure. In the same year 1801 the fifth inclosure is
made pasture, for which it is prepared by sowing pa¬
sture grass seeds with the barley of the year 1800.
And in this manner may the rotation be carried on
without end. Here the labour is equally distributed j
and there is no hurry nor confusion. But the chief pro¬
perty of this rotation is, that two culmiferous or white-
corn crops are never found together; by a due mixture
of crops, the soil is preserved in good heart without any
adventitious manure. At the same time, the land is
always producing plentiful crops : neither hay nor pa¬
sture get time to degenerate. The whole dung is laid
upon the fallow.
Every farm that takes a grass crop into the rota¬
tion must be inclosed, which is peculiarly necessary in
a clay soil, as nothing is more hurtful to clay than
poaching.
Rotation
Z
Fart I. AGRICULTURE.
Rotation of
1.
2.
3*
4*
5*
6.
7-
Rotation in a free soil.
1795-
Turnip.
Barley.
Hay.
Oats.
Fallow.
Wheat.
Pasture.
1796.
Barley.
Hay.
Oats.
Fallow.
Wheat.
Turnip.
Pasture.
H-r
Oats.
Fallow.
Wheat.
Turnip.
Barley.
Pasture.
1798.
Oats.
Fallow.
Wheat.
Turnip.
Barley.
Hay.
Pasture.
1799-
Fallow.
Wheat.
Turnip.
Barley.
Hay.
Oats.
Pasture.
1800.
Wheat.
Turnip.
Barley.
Hay.
Oats.
Fallow.
Pasture.
For the next rotation, the seventh inclosure is taken
up for corn, beginning with an oat crop, and proceed¬
ing in the order of the fourth inclosure j in place of
which, the third inclosure is laid down for pasture by
sowing pasture grasses with the last crop in that inclo¬
sure, being barley. This rotation has all the advanta¬
ges of the former. ' Here the dung is employed on the
turnip crop.
We proceed to consider what rotation is proper for
carse clay. The farm we propose consists of 73 acres.
Nine are to be inclosed for a kitchen garden, alfording
plenty of red clover to be cut green for the farm cattle.
The remaining 64 acres are divided into four inclosures,
16 acres each, to be cropped as in the following table.
1795-
Beans.
Barley,
Hay.
Oats.
1796.-
Barley.
Hay.
Oats.
Beans.
I797-
Hay.
Oats.
Beans.
Barley,
1798.
Oats.
Beans.
Barley,
Hay.
Here the dung ought to be applied to the barley.
Many other rotations may be contrived, keeping to
the rules above laid down. Fallow, for example, wheat,
pease and beans, barley, cabbage, oats, for clay. Here
dung must be given both to the wheat and cabbage.
For free soil, drilled turnip, barley, red clover, wheat
upon a single furrow, drilled potatoes, oats. Both the
turnip and potatoes must have dung. Another for free
soil: turnip drilled and dunged, red clover, wheat on
■a single furrow with dung, pease, barley, potatoes, oats.
The following rotation has proved successful in a soil
proper for wheat. 1. Oats with red clover, after fal¬
low without dung. 2. Hay. The clover stubble dung¬
ed, and wheat sown the end of October with a single
furrow. 3. Wheat. 4. Pease. 5. Barley. Fallow
again. Oats are taken the first crop, to save the dung
for the wheat. Oats always thrive on a fallow, though
without dung, which is not the case of barley. But
barley seldom fails after pease. In strong clay soil, the
following rotation answers. 1. Wheat after fallow and
dung. 2. Beans sown under furrow as early as possi¬
ble. Above the beans, sow pease end of March, half
a boll per acre, and harrow them in. The two grains
will ripen at the same time. 3. Oats or barley on a
winter furrow with grass-seeds. 4. Hay for one year
or two j the second growth pastured. Lay -what dung
can be spared on the hay-stubble, and sow wheat with a
single furrow. 5. Wheat. 6. Beans or pease. 7. Oats.
Fallow again.
In addition to these, we shall here state from the
Agricultural Survey of Yorkshire, an example of a ro- Rotation of
tation used in that county upon a marsh-land farm con- Crops,
sisting of 432 acres of arable land, in which a very " ""»
great number of hands and horses appear to have been
employed, but in which very valuable products are
reared. “ The soil, where the principal part of the po¬
tatoes are grown, is a good warp j the other part on
which potatoes are also cultivated, a mixture of warp
and sand : the remainder of the land, clay, with a small
portion of warp, but too strong to grow potatoes, ex¬
cept about 70 acres, which is tolerably good potato-
land, but at too great a distance from the river. Grass
land only sufficient to keep two milch cows, and horses
necessary for working the farm: 69 acres of the best
warp land divided into three equal parts j 1. fallow,
with from 16 to 20 loads of manure per acre j set it
with potatoes j after, sow wheat j and then fallow
again: three acres of the same kind of land that is
liable to be damaged by sparrows when sown with
corn, is set with potatoes every year with about 10
loads of manure per acre each year: 84 acres of the
lighter land is divided in the same manner, one-third
fallow, with 10 loads of manure per acre ; set potatoes
and then sow wheat, and fallow again : 42 acres of
land, lately an old pasture, divided into three parts I
one-third flax, then sown with rape, and after they
come off, plough and harrow the land three or four
times, and lay upon it about 20 loads of manure per
acre, which will make it in great condition $ after
which set potatoes, then sow flax again, and rape af¬
ter: 150 acres divided into three parts; 1. fallow;
2. wheat; 3. beans, drilled at 9 inches distance, hand-
hoed twice at 6s. per acre ; fallow again, &c.: 80
acres of land that was lately in old grass, divided into
four parts ; fallow, wheat, beans drilled, and oats ; then
fallow again, &c. The remaining four acres thrown
to any of the crops that are likely to fail. Bent 25s.
per acre ; assessments 5s. per acre.
“ Distribution of crops for 1795.
Wheat,
Beans,
Oats,
Flax,
Kape,
Potatoes,
Fallow,
To be thrown where a
Acres. Average Produce of an Acre9
from 3 to 5 quarters,
from 3 to 6 quarters,
from 6 to 10 quarters,
from 45 to 55 stones,
from 3 to 5 quarters
from 60 to 100 sacks.
121
70
20
*4
I4
68
121
crop is likely to fail, 4
432
“ Servants, Horses, and Cows, kept upon the Farm.
1 4 House servants,
16 Labourers,
v 26 Horses,
2 Milch cows.
“ The above is an account of a farm belonging to
one of the best managers of marsh-land. We must ob¬
serve he fallows his land very often; yet he is well paid
by his superior crops. The last year (4795) ^ie
100 sacks per acre oft most of his potato-land; and sold
3 L 2 them
45 2
Reaping them from 8s. to 12s. per sack of 14 pecks. All their
and Storing corn is sold by the quarter of eight Winchester bushels,
up Corn though I believe their measure rather overruns.” (a)
and Hay. ° v '
Sect. VI. Of Reaping Corn and Hay Crops, and
Storing them up for Use.
Of ripeness. CuLMIFEROUS plants are ripe when the stem is to¬
tally white : they are not fully ripe if any green streaks
remain. Some farmers are of opinion, that wheat ought
to be cut before it is fully ripe. Their reasons are,
first, that ripe wheat is apt to shake j and next, that
the flour is not so good. With respect to the last, it
is contrary to nature, that any seed can be better in an
' unripe state than when brought to perfection ; nor will
it be found so upon trial. With respect to the first,
wheat, at the point of perfection, is not more apt to
shake than for some days before : the husk begins not
to open till after the seed is fully ripe j and then the
suffering the crop to stand becemes ticklish ; after the
minute of ripening, it should be cut down in an instant,
423 if possible.
O! reapers. This leads to the hands that are commonly engaged
to cut down corn. In Scotland, the universal practice
was, to provide a number of hands in proportion to
the extent of the crop, without regard to the time of
ripening. By this method, the reapers were often idle
for want of work j and, what is much worse, they had
often more work than they could overtake, and ripe
fields were laid open to shaking winds. The Lothians
have long enjoyed weekly markets for reapers, where a
farmer can provide himself with the number he wants 5
and this practice is creeping into neighbouring shires.
Where there is no opportunity of such markets, neigh¬
bouring farmers ought to agree in borrowing and lend¬
ing their reapers.
One should imagine, that a caution against cutting
corn when wet is unnecessary j yet from the impatience
of farmers to prevent shaking, no caveat is more so.
Why do they not consider, that corn standing dries in
half a day ; when, in a close sheaf, the weather must
be favourable if it dry in a month : in moist weather it
will never dry.
•Wanner of ^ respect to the manner of cutting, we must pre¬
cutting. mise, that barley is of all the most difficult grain to be
dried for keeping. Having no husk, rain has an easy
access; and it has a tendency to malten when wet.
Where the ground is properly smoothed by rolling, it
seems best to cut it down with the scythe. This man¬
ner being more expeditious than the sickle, removes it
sooner from danger of wind j and gives a third more
straw, which is a capital article for dung, where a farm
is at a distance from other manure. We except only
corn that has lodged } for there the sickle is more con¬
venient than the scythe. As it ought to be dry when
cut, bind it up directly : if allowed to lie any time in
the swath, it is apt to be discoloured.—Barley sown
with grass-seeds, red clover especially, requires a dif¬
ferent management. Where the grass is cut along
Practice.
with it, the difficulty is great of getting it so dry as Reaping
to be ventured in a stack. The best way is, to cut and Storing
the barley with a sickle above the clover-, so as that "P (;°rn
nothing but clean barley is bound up. Cut with a ,ant*
scythe the stubble and grass : they make excellent winter v~’
food. The same method is applicable to oats; with
this only difference, that when the field is exposed to
the south-west wind, it is less necessary to bind imme¬
diately after mowing. As wheat commonly grows higher
than any other grain, it is difficult to manage it with
the scythe} for which reason the sickle is preferred in
England. Pease and beans grow so irregularly, as to
make the sickle necessary. 42<.
The best way for drying pease, is to keep separate Drying of
the handfuls that are cut} though in this way they wetPease-
easily, they dry as soon. In the common way of heap¬
ing pease together for composing a sheaf, they wet as
easily, and dry not near so soon. With respect to beans,
the top of the handful last cut ought to be laid on the
bottom of the former ; which gives ready access to the
wind. By this method pease and beans are ready for
the stack in half the ordinary time. 426
A sheaf commonly is made as large as can be con-Size of
tained in two lengths of the corn made into a rope. To6*ieaTes>
save frequent tying, the binder presses it down with his
knee, and binds it so hard as totally to exclude the air.
If there be any moisture in the crop, which seldom fails,
a process of fermentation and putrefaction commences
in the sheaf; which is perfected in the stack, to the
destruction both of corn and straw. How stupid is it,
to make the size of a sheaf depend on the height of the
plants ! By that rule, a wheat sheaf is commonly so
weighty, as to be unmanageable by ordinary arms : it
requires an effort to move it that frequently bursts the
knot, and occasions loss of grain, beside the trouble of
a second tying. Sheaves ought never to be larger than
can be contained in one length of the plant, cut close
to the ground $ without admitting any exception, if
the plants be above 18 inches high. The binder’s
arm can then compress the sheaf sufficiently without
need of his knee. The additional hands that this way
of binding may require, are not to be regarded compar¬
ed with the advantage of drying soon. Corn thus ma¬
naged may be ready for the stack in a week •, it seldom
in the ordinary way requires less than a fortnight, and
frequently longer. Of a small sheaf compressed by
the arm only, the air pervades every part , nor is it so
apt to be unloosed as a large sheaf, however firmly
bound. We omit the gathering of sheaves into shocks,,
because the common method is good, which is to place
the shocks directed to the south-west, in order to resist
the force of the wind. Five sheaves on each side make
a sufficient stay ; and a greater number cannot be co¬
vered with two head-sheaves.
Every article is of importance that hastens the ope-car^j.
ration in a country, like Scotland, subjected to unequal off the
harvest weather; for which reason the most expediti-vkta«l’
ous method should be chosen for carrying corn from the
field to the stack-yard. Our carriages are generally
too
AGRICULTURE.
(a) On this subject of rotations, it is proper to observe, that a great change has taken place since this article
was written. The general rule adopted in modern husbandry is, that two grain crops ripening their seeds musL
never be taken in succession, a rule that is liable to few exceptions in the practice of good husbandmen. Ses
the article Agriculture in the Supplement to this work.
Part I. AGRICULTURE.
Reaping too small or too large. A sledge is a very awkward
land Storing machine : many hands are required, and little progress
"P,^r" made. Waggons and large carts are little less dilatory,
1:111 ^ as they must stand in the yard till unloaded sheaf by
42§ sheaf.
Of stack- Building round stacks in the yard is undoubtedly
“*• preferable to housing corn. There it is shut up from
the air j and it must be exceeding dry, if it contract
not a mustiness, which is the first step to putrefaction.
Add to this, that in the yard, a stack is preserved from
rats and mice, by being set on a pedestal : whereas no
method has hitherto been invented for preserving corn
in a house from such destructive vermin. The proper
manner of building, is to make every sheaf incline
downward from its top to its bottom. Where the
sheaves are laid horizontally, the stack will take in rain
both above and below. The best form of a stack is
that ot a cone placed on a cylinder 3 and the top of the
cone should be formed with three sheaves drawn to a
point. If the upper part of the cylinder be a little
4j9 wider than the under, so much the better.
Covering The delaying to cover a stack for two or three
k stacks, weeks, though common, is, however, exceeding ab¬
surd 3 for if much rain fall in the interim, it is beyond
the power of wind to dry the stack. Vegetation be¬
gun in the external parts, shuts out the air from the
internal 3 and to prevent a total putrefaction, the stack
must he thrown down and exposed to the air every
sheaf. In order to have a stack covered the moment
it is finished, straw and ropes ought to be ready ; and
the covering ought to be so thick as to be proof against
rain.
Scotland is subject not only to floods of rain, but to
high winds. Good covering guards against the for¬
mer, and ropes artfully applied guard against the lat¬
ter. The following is a good mode. Take a hay-
rope well twisted, and surround the stack with it, two
feet or so below the top. Surround the stack with
another such rope immediately below jhe easing. Con¬
nect these two with ropes in an up-and-doivn position,
distant from each other at the easing about five or six
feet. Then surround the stack with other circular
ropes parallel to the two first mentioned, giving them
a twist round every one of these that lie up and down,
by which the whole will be connected together in a
sort of net-work. What remains is, to finish the two
feet at the top of the stack. Let it be covered with
bunches of straw laid regularly up and down 3 the un¬
der part to be put under the circular rope first men¬
tioned, which will keep it fast, and the upper part be
bound by a small rope artfully twisted, commonly call¬
ed the crown of the stack. This metbod is preferable
to the common way of laying long ropes over the top of
the stack, and tying them to the belting ropes 3 which
flattens the top, and makes it take in rain. A stack
covered in the way here described, will stand two years
secured both against wind and rain 3 a notable advan-
430 tage *n this variable climate.
%-ma. The great aim in making hay is, to preserve as much
■inS- of the sap as possible. All agree in this 3 and yet differ
widely in the means of making that aim effectual. To
describe all the different means would be equally tedi¬
ous and unprofitable. We shall confine ourselves to
two, which appear preferable to all others. A crop of
rye-grass and yellow clover ought to be spread as cut.
A day or two after, when the dew is evaporated, rake ^ ^ .
it into a number of parallel rows along the field, term- and Storin '
ed wind-rows, for the convenience of putting it up into up Corn
small cocks. After turning the rows once and again, tan<^ Hay,
make small cocks weighing a stone or two. At the r
distance cf two days or so, put two cocks into one,
observing always to mix the tops and bottoms together,
and to take a new place for each cock, that the least
damage possible may be done to the grass. Proceed
in putting two cocks into one, till sufficiently dry for
tramp-ricks of 100 stone each. The easiest way of
erecting tramp-ricks, is to found a rick in the middle
of the row of cocks that are to compose it. The cocks
may be carried to the rack by two persons joining arms
together. When all the cocks are thus carried to the
rick within the distance of 40 yards or so, the rest of
the cocks tvill be more expeditiously carried to the
rick, by a rope wound about them and dragged by a
horse. Two ropes are sufficient to secure the ricks
from wind the short time they are to stand in the field.
In the year 1775, 10,000 stone were put into tramp-
ricks the fourth day after cutting. In a country so wet
as many parts of Scotland are, expedition is of mighty
consequence in the drying both of hay and corn. With
respect to hay intended for horned cattle, it is by the
generality held an improvement, that it be heated a
little in the stack. But we violently suspect this doc¬
trine to have been invented for excusing indolent ma¬
nagement. An ox, it is true, will eat such hay 3 but
it will always be found that be prefers sweet hay ; and
it cannot well be doubted, but that such hay is the most
salutary and the most nourishing.
The making hay consisting chiefly of red clover, Hay of r«<i
requires more care. The season of cutting is the last clover,
week of June, when it is in full bloom 5 earlier it may
be cut, but never later. To cut it later would indeed
produce a weightier crop ; but a late first cutting
makes the second also late, perhaps too late for drying.
At the same time, the want of weight in an early first
cutting, is amply compensated by the weight of the
second.
When the season is too variable for making hay of
the second growth, mix straw with that growth, which
will be a substantial food for cattle during winter;
This is commonly done by laying strata of the straw
and clover alternately in the stack. But by this me¬
thod, the strata of clover, if they do not heat, turn
mouldy at least, and unpalatable. The better way is,
to mix them carefully with the hand before they be put
into the stack. The dry straw imbibes the moisture from ,
the clover, and prevents heating.
But the best metbod of hay-making seems to be that Other me-
recommended by Mr Anderson *. “ Instead (says thod.
he), of allowing the bay to lie, as usual in most pla- * Essays on
ces, for some days in the swathe after it is cut, and 3
afterwards alternately putting it up into cocks andp jg^
spreading it out, and tedding it in the sun, which tends
greatly to bleach the hay, exhales its natural juices,
and subjects it very much .to the danger of getting rain,
and thus runs a great risk of being good for little, I
make it a general rule, if possible, never to cut hay
but when the grass is quite dry 3 and then make the
gatherers follow close upon the cutter, putting it up
immediately into small cocks about three feet high each
when new put up, and of as small a diameter as they
can *
454-
Reaping
and Storing
up Corn
and Hay.
AGRICULTURE.
Practice
433
Advanta¬
ges of this
method.
can be made to stand with : always giving each of them
a slight kind of thatching, by drawing a few hand¬
fuls of the hay from the bottom of the cock all around,
and laying it lightly upon the top with one of the ends
hanging downwards. This is done with the utmost
ease and expedition : and when it is once in that state,
I consider my hay as in a great measure out of dan¬
ger : for unless a violent wind should arise immediately
after the cocks are put up, so as to overturn them, no¬
thing else can hurt the hay ; as I have often experienced,
that no rain, however violent, ever penetrates into these
cocks but for a very little way. And, if they are
dry put up, they never sit together so closely as to
heat; although they acquire, in a day or two, such a
degree of firmness, as to be in no danger of being
overturned by wind after that time, unless it blows a
hurricane.
“ In these cocks I allow the hay to remain, until,
upon inspection, I judge that it will keep in pretty
large tramp-cocks (which is usually in one or two
weeks, according as the weather is more or less favour¬
able), when two men, each with a long pronged pitch-
fork, lift up one of these small cocks between them
with the greatest ease, and carry them one after an¬
other to the place where the tramp-cock is to be built
(i) : and in this manner they proceed over the field
till the whole is finished.
“ The advantages that attend this method of ma¬
king hay, are, that it greatly abridges the labour; as
it does not require above the one half of the work that
is necessary in the old method of turning and tedding
it : That it allows the hay to continue almost as green
as when it is cut, and preserves its natural juices in the
greatest perfection ; for unless it be the little that is
exposed to the sun and air upon the surface of the
cocks, which is no more bleached than every straw of
hay saved in the ordinary way, the whole is dried in
the most slow and equal manner that could be desired;
and, lastly, That it is thus in a great measure secured
from almost the possibility of being damaged by rain.
This last circumstance deserves to be much more at¬
tended to by the farmer than it usually is at present:
as I have seen few who are sufficiently aware of the
loss that the quality of their hay sustains by receiving a
slight shower after it is cut, and before it is gathered $
the generality of farmers seeming to be very well satis¬
fied if they get in their hay without being absolutely
rotted, never paying the least attention to its having
been several times wetted wdiile the hay was making.
But, if these gentlemen will take the trouble at any
time to compare any parcel of hay that has been made
perfectly dry, with another parcel from the same field
that has received a shower while in the swathe, or even
a copious dew, they will soon be sensible of a very ma¬
nifest difference between them $ nor will their horses or
cattle ever commit a mistake in choosing between the Re(,pjn„
two. and Storiiv
“ Let it be particularly remarked, that in this man- «l> Com
ner of making hay, great care must be taken that it be iatl^ Hay.l
dry when first put into the cocks ; for if it is in the
least degree wet at the time, it will turn instantly Particular ^
mouldy, and sit together so as to become totally imper-caution r?
vious to the air, and will never afterwards become dry
till it is spread out to the sun. For this reason, if at
any time during a course of good settled weather you
should begin to cut in the morning before the dew is oft'
the grass, keep back the gatherers till the dew is eva¬
porated ; allowing that which was first cut to lie till it
is dry before it is cocked. In this case, you will al¬
most always find that the uncut grass will dry sooner
than that which has been cut when wet j and there¬
fore, the gatherers may always begin to put up that
which is fresh cut before the other j which will usually
require two or three hours to dry after the new-cut hay
may be cocked. And if, at any time, in case of ne¬
cessity, you should be obliged to cut your hay before it
is dry, the same rule must be observed always to allow
it to remain in the swathe till it is quite dry : but, as
there is always a great risk of being long in getting it
up, and as it never in this case wins (k) so kindly as if
it had been dry cut, the farmer ought to endeavour, if
possible, in all cases to cut his hay only when dry $ even
if it should cost him some additional expence to the cut¬
ters, by keeping them employed at any other works, or
even allowing them to remain idle, if the weather should
be variable or rainy.
“ But if there is a great proportion of clover, and
the weather should chance to be close and calm at the
time, it may, on some occasions, be necessary to open
up the cocks a little to admit some fresh air into them j
in which case, if they have stood a day or two, it may
be of great use to turn these cocks and open them up
a little, which ought to be done in the driest time of
the day ; the operator taking that part of each cock
which was the top, and with it forming the base of a
new one $ so that the part which was most exposed to
the air becomes excluded from it, and that which was
undermost comes to be placed upon the top, so as to
make it all dry as equally as possible.
“ If the hay has not been damp when it was first
put up, the cock may be immediately finished out at
once j but if it is at all wet, it will be of great use to
turn over only a little of the top of the cock at first,
and leaving it in that state to dry a little, proceed to
another, and a third, and fourth, &c. treating each in
the same way going in that manner till you find
that the inside of the first opened cock is sufficiently dri¬
ed, when it will be proper to return to it, turning over
a little more of it, till you come to what is still damp,
when you leave it, and proceed to another, and so on
round
(i) If the hay is to be carried to any considerable distance, this part of the labour may be greatly abridged,
by causing the carriers to take two long sticks of a sufficient strength, and having laid them down by the small
-cocks parallel to one another, at the distance of one and a half or two feet asunder, let them lift three or four
cocks, one after another, and place them carefully above the sticks, and then carry them altogether, as if upon a
handbarrow, to the place where the large rick is to be built.
(k) By winning hay, is meant the operation by which it is brought from the succulent state of grass to that of
a dry fodder.
AGRICULTURE.
Part I.
Manure*, round the whole; always returning afresh till the cocks
>—v ' are entirely finished. This is the best way of saving
your hay, if you have been under the necessity of cutting
it while damp ; but it is always best to guard against
43. this inconvenience, if possible.”
fay-stacks. In the yard, a stack of hay ought* to be an oblong
square, if the quantity be greater than to be easily
stowed in a round stack; because a smaller surface is
exposed to the air than in a number of round stacks.
For the same reason, a stack of pease ought to have
the same form, the straw being more valuable than that
of oats, wheat, or barley. The moment a stack is finish¬
ed it ought to be covered ; because the surface hay is
much damaged by withering in dry weather, and moist¬
ening in wet weather. Let it have a pavilion roof;
for more of it.can be covered with straw in that shape,
than when built perpendicular at the ends. Let it be
roped as directed above for corn-stacks ; with this dif¬
ference only, that in an oblong square the ropes must
be thrown over the top, and tied to the belt-rope below.
This belt-rope ought to be fixed with pins to the stack:
the reason is, that the ropes thrown over the stack will
bag by the sinking of the stack, and may be drawn
tight by lowering the belt-rope, and fixing it in its new
position with the same pins.
The stems of hops, being long and tough, make ex¬
cellent ropes ; and it will be a saving article, to propa¬
gate a few plants of that kind for that very end.
A stack of rye-grass hay, a year old, and of a mode¬
rate size, will weigh, each cubic yard, n Dutch stone.
A stack of clover-hay in the same circumstances weighs
somewhat less.
> Sect. VII. Manures.
43^
.1. Par- “ The use of manures (says M. Parmentier *), has
linio61 S known in all ages; but we are yet far from having
oncerning any clear ant* Precise ideas of the nature of the juices
mnure. which are destined for the nourishment of vegetables,
Memoirs and of the manner in which they are transmitted to their
^j/organs. The writers on agriculture, who have endea-
l&uul? voured to explain these matters, perceiving salts in most
wo/Pa-Plants> vvere persuaded that these salts, by the help of
hf. water and heat, passed, in a saline form, through the
vegetable filter. These first philosophers did not hesi¬
tate to consider every thing that has been done by the
industry of man, to improve the nature of land, and its
productions, as merely forming reservoirs of these salts,
which they consider as the principle of fertility. This
opinion was so well established among the improvers of
land, that, to this day, many of them have no object in
view, in their operations, but to disengage salts ; and,
when they attempt to explain certain phenomena which
take place in their fields or orchards, they talk confi¬
dently about the nitre of the air, of rain, of snow, of
dew, and fogs ; of the salts of the earth, of dung, of
marl, of lime, of chalk, &c. and make use of those vague
terms, oil, sulphur, spirit, &c. which ought hencefor¬
ward to be banished from our elementary books on
agriculture.
“ Among the authors who have attacked, and com¬
bated with most success the opinion that the fruitful¬
ness of soils, and the aliment of vegetables, reside in sa¬
line substances, must be reckoned Eller and Wallerius.
These philosophers examined, by every means which
chemistry at that time could furnish, the various kinds
of earth proper for cultivation, and also those substances
which have always been considered as the most power¬
ful manures, without being able to obtain, from any of
them, any thing more than mere atoms of salt.
Animated with the same zeal, and taking advan¬
tage of the instructions found 111 their writings, I
thought it necessary to determine, by experience, whe¬
ther, as has been asserted, there really exist neutral
salts in earths; and also, whether those earths are more
fertile in proportion to the quantity of such salts they
contain. With this view, I lixiviated by means of
distilled water, many species of cultivated earths, ta¬
ken in various states, from fresh earth to that which
had been impoverished by the growth of several crops :
I also tried dung, reduced more or less into the state of
mould ; and likewise the most active manures, such as
the offal of animal substances rotted by putrefaction;
but in none of these, however carefully analyzed, were
found any salts in a free state. They contain indeed
the materials proper for forming salts, but if they con¬
tain any ready formed, it is merely by accident.
“ The researches of Kraft, and those of Alston, were
not attended with different results. Having sown some
oats in ashes, not lixiviated, and in sand strongly im¬
pregnated with potash and with saltpetre, and having
found that the oats did not grow, they concluded that
neutral salts, and alkalies, not only retarded the growth
of vegetables, but that they absolutely prevented it. It
is well known that in Egypt there are districts where
the earth is entirely covered with sea-salt, and these di¬
stricts are quite barren. It is probably owing to this
property of sea-salt, that the Romans were accustomed
to scatter large quantities of it over fields where any
great crime had been committed, and of which they
wished to perpetuate the remembrance, by rendering
the part barren for a certain time.
“ The idea that salts had great influence in vegeta¬
tion ought to have been greatly weakened by the fol¬
lowing simple reflection. Supposing that salts existed
in garden mould, they would very soon be dissolved by
the rain, and carried away, towards the lower strata of
the earth, to a depth to which the longest roots would
not reach. Indeed the famous experiment of Van Hel-
mont would have been sufficient to have destroyed the
above opinion, if it did not generally happen that we
are no sooner set free from one error than we fall into
another not less extraordinary. The surprising effects
of vegetation brought about by the overflowing of wa¬
ter, and in the neighbourhood of salt marshes, and the
infinite number of inhaling capillary tubes observed up¬
on the surface of vegetables, led to an opinion that the
air and water, absorbed by the roots and leaves of
plants, were only vehicles loaded with saline matter,
analogous to the vegetables nourished by them.
“ To the experiment of VanHelmont, which was re¬
peated by many accurate observers, succeeded those of
modern philosophers ; from which it clearly appeared,
that plants could grow, and produce fruit, in the air of
the atmosphere, and in distilled water, also in pure sand,
in powdered glass, in wet moss or sponge, in the cavity
of fleshy roots, &c. and that plants which had nothing
but the above-mentioned fluids for their nourishment,
gave, when submitted to chemical analysis, the same
products as those which had undergone their process of
vegetation in a soil perfectly well manured. It was also
observe dj
455
Manures.
AGRICULTURE. Practice,
observed, that the most barren soils were rendered fer¬
tile when they were properly supplied with water by
canals \ and the efficacy of irrigation was repeatedly
evinced in different ways : from these observations was
formed the following system, that water rises in plants
in the form of vapour, as in distillation j that air intro¬
duces itself into their pores j and that if salts contribute
to the fruitfulness of soils, it is only in consequence of
their containing the two fluids above mentioned in great
abundance.”
Our author, after making many experiments upon
various soils and salts, maintains “ that saline substan¬
ces have no sensible effects in promoting vegetation,
except inasmuch as they are of a deliquescent nature,
have an earthy basis easily decomposed, and are used
only in small quantity. In those circumstances they
have the power of attracting, from the immense reser¬
voir of the atmosphere, the vapours which circukte in
it; these vapours they retain, along with the moisture
that is produced from rain, snow, dew, fog, &c. which
moisture they prevent from running together in a mass,
or from being lost, either by exhaling into the air of
the atmosphere, or by filtering itself through the infe¬
rior strata of the earth, and thereby leaving the roots
of vegetables dry ; they distribute that moisture uni¬
formly, and transmit it, in a state of great division, to
the orifices of the tubes destined to carry it into the
texture of the plant, where it is aftervyards to undergo
the laws of assimilation. As every kind of vegetable
manure possesses a viscous kind of moisture, it thereby
partakes of the property of deliquescent salts. In short,
the preparation of land for vegetation has no other ob¬
ject in view but to divide the earthy particles, to soft¬
en them, and to give them a form capable of pro¬
ducing the above-mentioned effects. It is sufficient,
therefore, that water, by its mixture with the earth
and the manure, be divided, and spread out so as to
be applied only by its surface, and that it keep the
root of the plant always wet, without drowning it, in
order to become the essential principle of vegetation.
But as plants which grow in the shade, even in the best
soil, are weakly, and as the greater part of those which
are made to grow in a place that is perfectly dark, nei¬
ther give fruit nor flowers, it cannot be denied that the
influence of the sun is of great importance in vege¬
table economy.”
Such was the opinion of M. Parmentier while the
old theory of chemistry prevailed; but when it ap¬
peared, by more recent discoveries, that air and water
are not simple but compound bodies, made up of oxy¬
gen, hydrogen, and azote, and that they are resolved
into these principles by many operations of nature and
of art, he so far altered his theory of vegetation as to
admit that air and water act their part in that process,
not in a compound state, but by means of the princi¬
ples of which they consist. He now concluded that
the value of manured earth consists of its tendency to
resolve water into gasses which give out heat while
they are absorbed by the plants. As he thus supposes
that the gasses constitute the food of plants, it follows,
that the most aerated waters will be the most favour¬
able to vegetation ; and hence arises the value of those
in which putrid animal matters are dissolved. Salts
and dung act as leavens in bringing on a state of fer¬
mentation in the substances with which they are ming¬
3
led, and operating the decomposition of water, which, Manures,
along with the carbon existing in the atmosphere, he
imagines contains the whole materials of the more
simple vegetables. Too great a quantity of salts pre¬
vents fermentation, or the decomposition of water, and
hence is prejudicial to vegetation, while a small quan¬
tity is more advantageous, as more favourable to that
process of putrefaction. Different manures also give
forth gasses which are absorbed by plants, and give
them a peculiarity of character: hence, in a soil com¬
posed of mud and dung, cabbages acquire a bad taste,
from the hepatic gas, or sulphurated hydrogen gas,
which is there evolved. In addition to these chemical
properties of manure, it also, by its mechanical quali¬
ties, renders the soil more permeable to water and to
the roots of the plants, and is thus favourable to the
progress of vegetation. At the same time, as the earths
themselves have a chemical action upon water, and are
capable of affording a proper basis for plants, he con¬
siders them as in many cases sufficient to promote vege¬
tation. Upon these principles, M. Parmentier takes a
view of different substances used as manures.
Marl, in his opinion, is capable of acting in the
same manner as the most fertile soil, when the princi¬
ples of which it is composed, namely, clay, sand, cal¬
careous earth, and magnesian earth, are justly propor¬
tioned to each other. But it is sometimes compact and
tenacious, because it contains a superabundant portion
of clay, and at other times porous and friable, because
it contains too much sand, and therefore is not in ge¬
neral fit for vegetation by itself. These considerations
ought always to be our guide when we mean to employ
marl as a manure.
It has been supposed that to marl is a sort of tech¬
nical expression, intended to denote the bringing to¬
gether or dividing the earthy particles by means of clay
or sand. It appears to our author, that neither of the
above operations can properly be called marling; be¬
cause, in either case, all we do is, to put the soil into a
situation to receive and to profit by the influence of the
atmosphere, and that of the manures made use of. The
peculiar principle of marl is, that part of it which, like
lime, acts very powerfully upon the different aeriform
fluids, is easily reduced to powder, effervesces with a-
cids, and sends forth a quantity of air-bubbles when
water is poured upon it. Now this matter, which in a
particular manner does the office of manure, resides
neither in clay nor in sand. Upon the proportion of it
depends the duration of the fertility it produces; con¬
sequently it is of importance, when we make use of
marl, to know which of its constituent parts it contains
in the greatest proportion, otherwise in some cases we
should only add one common kind of earth to another.
Hence our author infers, that for a chalky soil clay is
the proper manure, and that in such a soil a clay bot¬
tom is of more value than a gold mine.
“Wood-ashes, as a manure, may be, in some respects,
compared to marl; at least they contain the same earth
as those which generally enter into the composition of
marl, but they contain a greater quantity ot saline sub¬
stances, proceeding from the vegetables of which they
are the residue, and from the process made use of in
their combustion ; a process which increases their acti¬
vity, and should render us careful in what manner and
for what purpose we employ them. Wood-ashes,
when
Part I. AGRICULTURE.
Manures, when scattered over fields, at proper times and in pro-
—y ■■ 1 per quantities, destroy weeds, and encourage the vege¬
tation of good plants. But do the ashes produce this
effect by a sort of corrosive power P I cannot (says our
author) think it $ for in that case all kinds of plants
would indiscriminately be acted upon by them, and to
a certain degree destroyed.
“ Besides, the ashes of fresh wood are seldom em¬
ployed until they have been lixiviated j in which state
they are deprived of their caustic principle ; those ashes
which are most commonly made use of for manure are
produced either from wood that has been floated in wa¬
ter, or from turf, or from pit-coal, and contain little
or no alkaline salt.
“ It appears much more probable that ashes, when
laid upon ground, destroy the weeds by a well known
effect, namely, by seizing with eagerness that moisture
which served to produce those weeds, and which in a
superabundant quantity is necessary to their existence
and support. Whereas those plants which have a firmer
texture and a longer root, which are rendered strong
by age and by having withstood the rigour of winter,
and which are in fact the plants of which the fields are
composed, do not suffer any damage from the applica¬
tion of the ashes ; but, on the contrary, by being freed
from the superfluous weeds which stifled them, and rob¬
bed them of a part of their sustenance, they receive a
quantity of nourishment proportioned to their wants.
The state of relaxation and languor to which they were
reduced by a superabundance of water, leaves them, the
soil gets its proper consistence, and the grass, corn, &c.
acquiring the strength and vigour which are natural to
them, soon overcome the moss, rushes, and other weeds j
thus a good crop, of whatever the field consists of, is
produced. It is in the above manner that wood ashes
act, whenever in the spring it is necessary to apply
them to meadows, corn fields, &c. the plants of which
are stifled and weakened by a luxuriant vegetation of
weeds, the usual consequence of mild and wet winters.
“ When wood ashes produce an effect different from
what is above described, it is either because they hap¬
pen to contain too much alkaline salt, or that they are
laid on the ground in too great quantity, or that the
fields to which they are applied were not sufficiently
wet to restrain their action ; for when they are scatter¬
ed upon cold soils, and buried by the plough before
the time of sowing, they are, like lime, of great ser¬
vice. The last-mentioned substance is very efficacious
in other circumstances j and there is a well knowm me¬
thod of using it practised by the Germans, as follows :
A heap of lime is formed by the side of a heap of poor
earth, and water is poured upon the lime } the earth
is then thrown over it, and becomes impregnated with
the vapours which escape from the lime while it is
slaked. The earth, after being thus aerated, may be
separated j and although no lime remains mixed with
it, is, by the operation just described, rendered capa¬
ble of giving a luxuriant vegetation to whatever plants
may be put into it.
“ It is possible, therefore, to aerate earth as well as
fluids} for this purpose, by mixing it with certain sub¬
stances during their decomposition, we must attach to
it the principles of which those substances are compos¬
ed ; from which there results a matter so loaded with
gas, as to form a more compound substance, and one
Vol. I. Part II. f
which has acquired new properties. The Arabians, for
example, who take great pains to improve their land,
are accustomed to make large pits, which they fill with
animals which happen to die ; these pits they after¬
wards cover with calcareous or clayey earth j and alter
some time these earths, which of themselves are sterile,
acquire the properties of the richest manures.
The foregoing observations may at least be consi¬
dered as proving, that those substances which, when
employed fresh and in too great quantity, are most pre¬
judicial to vegetation, have, on the contrary, an advan¬
tageous effect, when they are previously made to under¬
go a fermentation 5 or when^they are mixed with earth
or water in a proportion adapted to the end proposed.
The grass of fields in which cattle or poultry go to
feed, after the first or second crop of hay, appears to be
dried by the urine and dung of those animals, as if fire
had been applied to itj whereas these same excremen-
titious substances, when combined with earth, or diluted
with water, are capable, without any other preparation,,
of performing the office of good manure.
“ But if animal secretions, when applied in substance
to plants, were capable of acting upon them, as is af¬
firmed, in such a way as to corrode or burn them, how
could seed which has been swallowed, and escaped the
action of the digestive powers, be prolific when thrown
out by the animal, after having remained so long in its
dung P yet we often see oats, so circumstanced, grow
and produce seed. Is it not more consistent with ex¬
perience and observation to suppose, that these excre-
mentitious substances, being still endowed with animal
heat, and with an organic motion, diffuse round plants
in vegetation a deleterious principle or inflammable gas,
which destroys them ? for soon after their application,
the foliage of the plant grows yellow, dries up, and
the plant withers, unless there happens a shower of rain,
which revives it. When these substances are diluted,
by being mixed with water and earth, they lose that
principle which is so destructive to vegetable life, and
an incipient fermentation augments their power as a
manure, so that they may be immediately made use of
without any apprehension of injury from their effects.
“ It appears, therefore, that any operation upon ex-
crementitious substances, by which they are dried and
reduced to powder, cannot be practised without de¬
priving those substances of a great part of such of their
principles as are easily evaporated, and upon which
their fluidity depends ; these principles when diluted
with water, and confined by being mixed with earth,
are capable of increasing the produce of the soil. Such
is the way in which the husbandmen in Flanders make
use of this kind of manure, in the cultivation of a kind
of rape or cole seed, which is to them a very important
branch of agricultural industry and commerce j and
they never observe that the sap carries up any of those
principles which give such manure its offensive smell 5
nor do they observe, that the fodder produced from
fields so manured, whether eaten fresh or dry, is dis¬
agreeable to their cattle. The excrements of all ani¬
mals would be injurious to plants, if applied too fresh,
or in too great quantity $ and a gardener could not
commit a greater fault, than to put more than a cer¬
tain quantity of them into the water he means to make
use of to water his young plants 5 in short this kind
of manure is to be used in a very sparing manner $ and
3 M he
457
Manures'.
458 AGRICULTURE. Practice.
Manures, he that is too prodigal of it will find, to his cost, that
excess, even of that which is otherwise beneficial, be¬
comes an evil.
“ It must certainly be allowed, that excrementitious
substances are a very advantageous manure for cold soils,
and suited to most vegetable productions 5 a long ex¬
perience of their effects over a large tract of country,
and the acknowledged intelligence of the Flemish far¬
mers, ought to be considered as sufficient to overcome
the prejudice that has been raised against this sort of
manure. Supposing that the bad effects which have
been attributed to it, when used in the state in which
it is taken out of privies, &c. are not the offspring of
a prejudiced imagination, they may have arisen from
its having been made use of at an improper time, or in
too great a quantity j or from its having been applied to
a soil, and for the cultivation of plants, to which it was
not adapted : for we know that the excess of any kind
of manure changes the smell and taste of plants, and
the same effect is produced by watering them too fre¬
quently. Striking examples of this change are seen in
the strawberry and in the violet, when such as have
grown in the woods are compared to those produced
from some of our over-manured gardens •, also in the
lettuce, and some other plants, when those raised for
sale by the gardeners about Paris are compared to those
of some particular kitchen gardens. In the markets of
some cities, the carrots, turnips, and potatoes of the
fields, are preferred to the same kind of roots cultiva¬
ted by the gardeners ; for though the last are of a larger
size, they have not so good a flavour. Some vegeta¬
bles, therefore, are like certain wild species of the ani¬
mal kingdom; they resist every kind of culture, as
those animals resist every effort to tame them.
“ Although experience has taught the Flemish far¬
mers, that excrementitious substances are more active
in their natural state than when dried, yet it cannot be
denied that drying them, and reducing them into pow¬
der, is sometimes very advantageous, because in that
state they are much less offensive, are easily transport¬
ed to any distance, and may be used when most conve¬
nient or most proper. In many cities the inhabitants
pay to have their privies emptied: in other places those
who empty them pay for their contents j and it would
astonish any one to be told how great a revenue is pro¬
duced in the city of Lisle in Flanders by the sale of
this kind of manure. I am, however (says our author),
far from thinking that it is right, in all cases, to em¬
ploy it in the above-mentioned state of concentration ;
it would be better, in my opinion, to follow the ex¬
ample of the Flemish farmers, who use it the first year
for the cultivation of plants for oil, or for hemp or flax j
and the second year for the best kinds of grain : thus
obtaining two crops, instead of one, without any far¬
ther preparation of the land. What is said above may
be applied also to the manures produced from the dung
of cattle, poultry, &c. particularly to pigeons dung,
the most powerful manure of its kind), all which, by
being dried and powdered before they are used, lose a
great portion of their activity. From these observa¬
tions another fact may be deduced, namely, that ma¬
nure should not be taken from the place where it has
been thrown together, until the season of the year and
the state of the land are such that it may be put into
the ground as soon as it is brought to it. In some di-
2
stricts a very injurious custom prevails of carrying the Mamires.
manure into the fields, and leaving it there formed into —y—^
small heaps, exposed for some days to the elements,
during which time, either the sun and wind dry up
its natural moisture, leaving a mass which is much less
active ; or the rain dissolves and carries away the ex¬
tractive parts impregnated with the salt. This kind of
brine, which is the most powerful part of the manure,
penetrates the earth to a considerable depth, and shews
(by the thick tufts which arise in those places, and
which produce more straw than grain) that manure
ought to be put into the ground as soon as it is brought
to it, because it then possesses its full force and effect,
and consequently would be then used to the greatest ad¬
vantage.
“ We have always at hand the means of composing,
from a great variety of vegetable and animal substances,
such manures as, when brought into a proper state, and
mixed with land, contribute to its fertility. Chemistry
also offers to us a number of substances, which, although
when used separately they tend to diminish the ferti¬
lizing quality of the earth, are yet capable, by being
combined, of forming excellent manures 5 such, for in¬
stance, is that saponaceous combination which is pro¬
duced from a mixture of potash, oil, and earth. What
an advantage it would be, if, instead of being sparing
of manure, the inhabitants of the country would endea¬
vour to increase the number of these resources, and to
render them more beneficial, by employing them in a
more effectual manner! How many years had passed
before it was known that the refuse of apples and pears,
after they are pressed (and which used to be thrown a-
way as useless), is capable of forming as valuable a ma¬
nure, in cyder and perry countries, as the refuse of
grapes does in wine countries !”
From what has been observed, our author concludes,
that manures act, in many circumstances, like medi¬
cines, and consequently that the same sort of manure
cannot be adapted to every situation, and every kind
of soil 5 we must therefore take care to make proper di¬
stinctions between them. Whoever shall pretend that
any particular kind of manure may be used, with equal
benefit, in grass land, corn fields, vineyards, orchards,
kitchen gardens, &c. ought to be classed amongst those
quacks who undertake to cure all persons with the same
remedy, without any regard to their age, constitution,
&c. It is probably from not having paid sufficient at¬
tention to the forementioned distinctions, that some au¬
thors have found fault with particular manures, while
others have spoken too highly in their favour. ^7
Having thus far stated the observations of this inge-Practical
nious author, we think it necessary to remark, that the1'1116 for
practical farmer, who wishes to advance safely and pro-
^ \ • i • ' • *11 ni«-UUiv»»
sperously in his occupation, will probably find, that the
best principle upon which he can proceed in forming
his plans for the preparation of manure, will consist of
keeping strictly in view the ideas which we formerly
stated *, when considering the theory of agriculture. * No. 75,
When we wish to fertilize land by art, we ought 1076, 77, 78
follow nature, or to imitate the process by which she
fertilizes it. Vegetable substances, fermented by the
putrefaction of animal matters, rapidly fall down into
earth, "and assume the form of that rich black mould
which is the most productive of all soils. The great
object of the husbandman, therefore, ought to be to
procure
AGRICULTURE.
Part I.
Manures, procure large quantities of vegetable substances of every
y—kind, such as straw, stubble, rushes, weeds, &c. and to
lay these up to ferment along with the fresh dung of
animals, particularly those animals which chew the cud,
for by digesting their food in a very perfect manner,
their dung contains a large portion of animal matter.
As horses, on the contrary, digest their food very weak¬
ly, their dung is often only sufficiently animalized to
bring on its own fermentation, which, however, is very
strong, on account of the large quantity of bits of straw,
hay, and other undecomposed parts of their food w’hich
it contains. In the neighbourhood of cities, other ani¬
mal substances, besides dung, may frequently be obtain¬
ed } such as bullocks blood, and the refuse of works in
which train oil is prepared, none of which ought to be
neglected by the husbandman.
The art of fermenting vegetable by animal matters,
or the true art of making dung, has not yet been brought
to perfection, nor is it in almost any situation sufficient¬
ly attended to. In many places, we see large quanti¬
ties of ferns, rushes, and the coarse grass of bogs, which
no cattle will consume, allowed to run to waste j where¬
as, though these plants do not readily of themselves run
into fermentation, they might easily, by proper care, be
made to undergo this process, and consequently be con¬
verted into a source of riches, that is, into fertile mould.
On this subject, we shall here state a mode of preparing
dung upon the above principles, that has lately been
discovered, and successfully adopted in Mid Lothian
by the Hon. Lord Meadowbank, one of the senators of
the College of Justice in Scotland. It consists of sub¬
jecting common peat-moss to the process of fermenta¬
tion, now mentioned, and has been explained by his
lordship in a small printed pamphlet, of which, though
not sold to the public, a considerable number of copies
have been distributed among his lordship’s friends. It
is in the following terms: “ It is proper to state in the
outset,” says his lordship, “ some general facts concern¬
ing the preparation of manure, which every practical
farmer should be acquainted with.
“ i. All recently dead animal or vegetable matter,
if sufficiently divided, moist, and not chilled nearly to
freezing, tends spontaneously to undergo changes, that
bring it at length to be a fat greasy earth, which when
mixed with sands, clays, and a little chalk, or pounded
limestone, forms what is called rich loam, or garden-
438 mould.
Lord Mea- “ 2. In vegetable matter, when amassed in quanti-
iiimteof1 * **eS’ t^iese Ganges are at first attended with very con-
eonverting s'^erahle heat, (sometimes proceeding the length of in-
moss into flammation), which, when not exceeding blood-heat,
mauure, greatly favours and quickens the changes, both in ani¬
mal matter, and the further changes in vegetable matter,
that are not sensibly attended with the production of
heat. The changes attended with heat, are said to
happen by a fermentation, named from what is observed
in making of ale, wine, or vinegar. The latter are
ascribed to what is called putrefactive fermentation.
“ 3. Besides moderate moisture and heat, and that
division of parts which admits the air in a certain de¬
gree, circumstances which seem to be necessary to the
production of these changes, stirring, or mechanical Manure?,
mixture, favours them $ and a similar effect arises from * --
the addition of chalk, pounded limestone, lime, rub¬
bish ot old buildings, or burnt lime brought back to
its natural state ; and also of ashes of burnt coal, peat,
or wood, soap-leys, soot, sea-shells, and sea-ware. And,
on the other hand, the changes are stopped or retarded
by pressure or consolidation, excluding air 3 by much
water, especially when below the heat of a pool in
summer 3 by astringents 3 and by caustic substances, as
quicklime, acids, and pure alkalies, at least till their
causticity is mollified, at the expence of the destruction
of part of the animal and vegetable matter to which
they are added.
“ 4- These changes are accomplished by the separa¬
tion or decomposition of the parts or ingredients of which
the dead vegetables and animals are composed 3 by the
escape of somewhat of their substance in the form of va¬
pours or gasses 3 by the imbibing also somewhat from
water and from the atmosphere 3 and by the formation
of compound matters, from the reunion of parts or in¬
gredients, which had been separated by the powers of
the living vegetables and animals. The earlier chan¬
ges, and in general those which take place previous to
the destruction of the adhesion and texture of the dead
vegetables and animals, appear to be rather pernicious
than favourable to the growth of living vegetables, ex¬
posed to the direct effect of them 3 whereas the changes
subsequent to the destruction of the animal and vege¬
table texture promote powerfully the growth of plants,
and, partly by their immediate efficacy on the plants
exposed to their influence, partly by the alterations they
produce in the soil, constitute what is to be considered
as enriching manure (l).
“ 5. It should be the object of the farmer to give
his soil the full benefit of these latter changes, decom¬
positions, and recompositions, which proceed slowly,
and continue to go on for years after the manure is
lodged in the soil. Even loam or garden-mould is
still undergoing some remaining changes of the same
sort; and, by frequently stirring it, or removing it,
and using it as a top-dressing, its spontaneous changes
are so favoured, that it will yield heavy crops for a
time, without fresh manure 3 or, in other words, it is
rendered in so far a manure itself, as it decomposes
faster than in its ordinary and more stationary state,
and in so doing, nourishes vegetables more abundantly,
or forms new combinations in the adjoining soil, that
enable it to do so.
“ It should also be the object of the farmer, to employ
the more early changes, not only to bring forward the
substances undergoing them into a proper state to be
committed to the soil, but to accelerate or retard them,
so as to have his manure ready for use at the proper
seasons, with as little loss as possible, from part being
too much and part too little decomposed 3 and also to
avail himself of the activity of those changes, to restore
to a state of sufficiently rapid spontaneous decomposi¬
tion, such substances in his farm, as, though in a state
of decay, had become so stationary, as to be unfit for
manure, without the aid of heat and mixture.
3 M 2 “ By
(l) Hot fermenting dung partakes of both sorts of fermentation.
460
Manures.
AGRICULTURE.
“ By attention to the two first particulars, and the
proper use ot compression, stirring, and mixture, the
farm dunghill, though formed slowly and of materials
in very various states of decay, is brought forward in
nearly the same condition. By attention to the latter,
manure may, in most situations in Scotland, be tripled
or quadrupled j et jimum est aiirum. On the other
hand, by inattention to them, part of the manure is put
into the soil unprepared, that is, in a situation where
the texture of the vegetable is still entire ; and, its de¬
composition never having been carried far by the heat
and mixture of a fermenting mass, proceeds in the soil
so slowly, that, like ploughed-down stubble, it does not
merit the name of manure. Part, again, is apt to be
too much rotted, that is, much of it is too nearly ap¬
proaching to the state of garden-mould, whereby much
benefit is lost, by the escape of what had been separa¬
ted during the process it has undergone, and the good
effects on the soil of what remains are less durable ;
for, between solution in water and rapid decomposition
from its advanced state of rottenness, it is soon reduced
to that of garden-mould ; and, in fine, the powers of
fermenting vegetable with animal matter, which, when
properly employed, are certainly most efficacious in
converting into manure many substances that are other¬
wise very stationary and slow in their decomposition,
•are lost to the farmer, so that he is often reduced to
adopt an imperfect and little profitable mode of culti¬
vation, from the want of the manure requisite for a
better, though such manure may be lying in abun¬
dance within his reach, but useless from his ignorance
how to prepare it.
“ Peat-moss is to be found in considerable quanti¬
ties within reach of most farms in Scotland, particu-
iaidy in those districts where outfield land (i. e. land
not brought into a regular course of cropping and ma¬
nuring) forms the larger part of the arable land. It
consists of the remains of shrubs, trees, heath, and other
vegetables, which, under the influence of a cold and
moist climate, and in wet situations, have got into a
condition almost stationary, but much removed from
that of the recently dead vegetable, and certainly con¬
siderably distant from that of garden mould. It is no
longer susceptible of going of itself, though placed in
the most favourable circumstances, into that rapid fer¬
mentation, accompanied with heat, which masses of
fresh vegetables experience : But it is still a powerful
fuel when dried j and, on the other hand, it requires
long exposure to the seasons, in a dry situation, before,
without mixture, it is fit for the nourishing of living
vegetables.
“ In general, however, there is nothing in the situ¬
ation of peat moss, or in the changes it has undergone,
that leads to think that it has suffered any thing that
unfits it to be prepared for manure. It is no doubt
found sometimes mixed with particular mineral sub¬
stances, that may be, for a time, pernicious to vegeta¬
tion 5 but, iw general, there is no such admixture, and,
when it does take place, a little patience and attention
will be sufficient to cure the evil. In the ordinary
Practice.
case, the only substances found in peat that may be un- Manure*,
favourable to vegetation, in so far at least as tending to y—j
keep it stationary, and prevent its rotting, are two, and
both abounding in fresh vegetables of the sorts of
which moss is chiefly composed: These are, gallic
acid, and the astringent principle, or tan ; and, as
these are got the better of in fresh vegetables by the
hot fermentation to which they are subject, so as to
leave the general mass of the substances to which they
belonged properly prepared manure, there is no reason
to suppose that the same may not be accomplished with
the acid and tan of peat. Again, the powers of peat
as a fuel, and of ashes of peat as a manure, ought to
convince every person, that the material and more es¬
sential parts of the dead vegetable, for the formation
of manure, remain entire in peat. Here the inflam¬
mable oils and carbonaceous matter which abound in
the fresh vegetable, and the latter of which also
abounds in garden-mould, remain entire j the soot and
ashes, too, which are the results of the inflammation of
each, seem to be nearly equally fertilizing j and, in
short, little seems to be lost in peat but the effects oi
the first fermentation in preparing the matter to un¬
dergo its future changes with the rapidity requisite to
constitute manure. Besides, the soil produced from
peat-earth, by exposure for a course of years, seems not
to he sensibly different from that obtained from dung in
the same way. Both are deficient mi firmness of tex¬
ture ; but are very prolific when mixed with clays,
sands, and calcareous earths, in due proportion.
“ From considering the preceding circumstances, and
from trying what substances operated on tan, and on
the acid found in peat-moss, it was determined to sub¬
ject it to the influence of different sorts of fermenting
dung, with due attention to the proportions used, and
to the effects of the different preparations 5 and the
following is the direction, which an experience of six
crops recommends to practice.
“ Let the peat moss, of which compost is to be form¬
ed, be thrown out of the pit for some weeks or months,
in order to lose its redundant moisture. By this means,
it is rendered the lighter to carry, and less compact
and weighty, when made up with fresh dung, for fer¬
mentation j and accordingly less dung is required for
the purpose, than if the preparation is made with peat
taken recently from the pit.
“ Take the peat-moss to a dry spot, convenient for
constructing a dunghill, to serve the field to be manured.
Lay it in two rows, and dung in a row betwixt them.
The dung thus lies on the area of the compost-dunghill,
and the rows of peat should be near enough each other,
that workmen in making up the compost, may be able
to throw them together by the spade, without wheel¬
ing. In making up, let the workmen begin at one end.
Lay a bottom of peat, 6 inches deep, and 15 feet wide,
if the ground admit of it (m). Then lay about 10
inches of dung above the peat ; then about 6 inches of
peat ; then four or five of dung, and then six more of
peat 5 then another thin layer of dung *, and then
cover it over with peats at the end where it was begun,
at
(m) This alludes to the propriety, in clay lands, of suiting the dunghill to the breadth of a single ridge, free of
each furrojv.
3art I.
Manures, at the two sides, and above. It should not be raised
—-v 1 above 4 feet, or 4J feet high, otherwise it is apt to
press too heavily on the under part, and check the fer¬
mentation. When a beginning is thus made, the work¬
men will proceed working backwards, and adding to the
column of compost, as they are furnished with the three
rows of materials, directed to be laid down for them.
They must take care not to tread on the compost, or
render it too compact; and, of consequence, in propor¬
tion as the peat is wTet, it should be made up in lumps,
and not much broken.
“ In mild weather, seven cart-load of common farm-
dung, tolerably fresh made, is sufficient for 21 cart¬
loads of peat-moss : but in cold weather, a larger pro¬
portion of dung is desirable. To every 28 carts of
the compost, when made up, it is of use to throw on
above it a cart-load of ashes, either made from coal,
peat, or wmod *, or if these cannot be bad, half the
quantity of slaked lime may be used, the more finely
powdered the better. But these additions are nowise
essential to the general success of the compost.
“ The dung to be used should either have been re¬
cently made, or kept fresh by compression 5 as, by the
treading of cattle or swine, or by carts passing over it.
And if there is little or no litter in it, a smaller quan¬
tity will serve, provided any spongy vegetable matter
is added at making up the compost, as fresh weeds,
the rubbish of a stack-yard, potato-shaws, sawings of
timber, &c. And as some sorts of dung, even when
fresh, are much more advanced in decomposition than
others, it is material to attend to this j for a much
less proportion of such dung, as is less advanced, will
serve for the compost, provided care is taken to keep
the mass sufficiently open, either by a mixture of the
above-mentioned substances, or, if these are wanting,
by adding the moss piece-meal, that is, first mixing it
up in the usual proportion of three to one of dung,
and then, after a time, adding an equal quantity, more
or less, of moss.. The dung of this character, of great¬
est quantity, is shamble-dung, with which, under the
above precautions six times the quantity of moss, or
more, may be prepared. The same holds as to pigeon-
dung, and other fowl-dung ; and to a certain extent,
also, as to that which is collected from towns, and
made by animals that feed on grains, refuse of distil¬
leries, &c.
“ The compost, after it is made up, gets into a gene¬
ral heat, sooner or later, according to the weather, and
the condition of the dung : in summer, in ten days or
sooner j in winter, not perhaps for many weeks, if the
cold is severe. It always, however, has been found to
come on at last 5 and in summer, it sometimes rises so
high, as to be mischievous, by consuming the materi¬
als, (fire-fanginff). In that season, astiekshould.be
kept in it in different parts, to pull out and feel now
and then : for if it approaches to blood-heat, it should
either be watered, or turned over j and on such an oc-
461
casion, advantage may be taken to mix it with a little Manures,
fresh moss. The heat subsides after a time, and with t—-■ ■>,——1
great variety according to the weather, the dung, and
the perfection of the making up of the compost j which ■
then should be allowed to remain untouched, till with¬
in three weeks of using, when it should be turned over,
upside down, and outs/de in, and all lumps broken :
then it comes into a second heat •, but soon cools, and
should be taken out for use. In this state, the whole,
except bits of the old decayed wood, appears a black
free mass, and spreads like garden-mould. Use it,
weight for weight, as farm-yard dung ; and it will be
found, in a course of cropping, fully to stand the com¬
parison ,
“ The addition recommended of ashes or lime, is
thought to favour the general perfection of the prepa¬
ration, and to hasten the second heat. The lime laid
on above the dunghill, as directed, is rendered mild by
the vapours that escape during the first heat.
“ Compost, made up before January, has hitherto
been in good order for the spring-crops 5 but this may
not happen in a long frost. In summer, it is ready in
eight or ten weeks 5 and if there is an anxiety to have
it soon prepared, the addition of ashes, or of a little
lime-rubbish of old buildings, or of lime slaked with
foul water, applied to the dung used in making up,
will quicken the process considerably.
“ Lime has been mixed previously with the peat j
but the compost prepared with that mixture, or with
the simple peat, seemed to produce equally good crops.
All the land, however, that it has been tried on, has
been limed more or less within these 25 years.
“ Peat prepared with lime alone, has not been found
to answer as a good manure. In one instance, viz. on
a bit of fallow sown with wheat, it was manifestly per¬
nicious. Neither with cow-water alone is it prepared,
unless by lying immersed in a pool of it for a long
time, when it turns into a sort of sleetch, which makes
an excellent top dressing. Something of the same sort
happens with soap-suds, and water of common sewers,
&c. Lime-water was not found to unite with the tan
in peat, nor was urine (n). Peat made up with sea¬
weeds gets into heat, and the peat seems to undergo
the same change as when prepared with dung. But
the effect of this preparation on crops has not yet been
experienced. Peat has also been exposed to the fumes
of a putrefying carcase. In one instance the peat pro¬
ved a manure \ but much weaker than when prepared
with dung. There, however, the proportion used was
very large to the carcase. Other trials are making,
where the proportion is less, and with, or without, the
addition of ashes, lime, &.c. In all these cases, there
can be no sensible heat. Peat, heated and rendered
friable by the action of the living principle of turnips
in growing, was not found entitled, when used as a
top-dressing, to the character of manure. It had been
made up in the view of preserving the turnips during
frost.
AGRICULTURE.
(n) Tan combines with animal gelly, and loses its astringency. The animalized matter, extricated in ferment¬
ing dung, has probably this effect on the tan in peat, as well as to render the acid innocent. As vegetable mat¬
ters seem in general to contain the ingredients of, and often somewhat similar to, animal gluten, it is possible
that the fermentation of fresh vegetables alone may prove sufficient to prepare the peat to rot in the soil expedi-
tiously 3 but it is certainly desirable to use also animalized matter for this purpose.
AGRICULTURE.
Practice,
frost. But the turnips sprung, and the mass heated.
The turnips were taken out and the peat afterwards
used as a top-dressing. Peat is now under trial, as
preparing with turnips and fresh weeds, in fermentation,
without the admixture of any annualized matters.
“ It is said that dry peat-earth is used as a manure
in some parts of England. But unless in chalky soils,
or others where there may be a great want of carbona¬
ceous matter, it is much doubted whether it could be
used with any sensible advantage. Peat-ashes were
found to raise turnips, but to have no sensible effect on
the next crop.
“ The quantity of the compost used per acre, has va¬
ried considerably, according to the richness of the soil
manured, and the condition in which it is at manuring,
and the season in which the manure is applied. From
23 to 35 cart-load, by two horses each, is about what
has been given j the lesser to fallows and ground in
good tilth, and the larger when to be ploughed in with
the sward of poor land ; and the intermediate quanti¬
ties, with tares, pease, potatoes, &c. ; and it has in
most cases undergone comparative trials with different
sorts of common dung.
“ It may be proper to add, that too much attention
cannot be paid to the proper preparation of the ground
for the reception of manure. It should be clean, pret¬
ty dry at the application, and well mixed and friable.
Much of the manure applied is otherwise lost, whether
lime, dung, or compost. The additional quantities re¬
commended when the land is coarse, is just so much
that would have been saved by better cultivation. Com¬
mon farmers are little aware of this. They might
save at least half their lime, did they lay it on in pow¬
der (o), and on fallows, only harrowing it, and let¬
ting it wait for a shower before it is ploughed in $ and
perhaps not much less of their dung. It is astonishing
what a visible effect is produced on land properly mix¬
ed by a fallow, from the addition of only a very small
quantity of properly prepared dung or compost. Both
its texture and colour undergo a very sensible change,
which cannot be accounted for, except from the extri¬
cation of substances from the decomposing manure,
(probably from its spontaneous tendency to decompose
being aided by the chemical action of various matters
in a soil so prepared) : And from these substances ope¬
rating in the soil, numberless compositions and decom¬
positions, or tendencies to them, take place, from the
various elective attractions of the different parts of
which it is composed. It is obvious, that an immense¬
ly greater proportion of manure must be required to
produce even a little of this, where the soil is coarse or
lumpy, or consolidated by wetness, than when put into
a situation favourable to the reciprocal action of the
various substances contained in it, a variety and an ad¬
mixture formed by nature in perfection in the more fa¬
voured soils, (as in the bottom of drained lakes, haughs,
Delta ground), and which it is the business of the skil¬
ful and industrious farmer to form or make compensa¬
tion for the wrant of, by judicious manuring, where na¬
ture has been less bountiful of her gifts.
“ It was meant to have given a detailed account of Manures,
many of the experiments that have been made, whether
in Agriculture or Chemistry. But as these are still
going on, and the practical results have attracted some
attention, and prompted imitation by neighbours and
acquaintance, so that manuscript directions have been
often applied for and obtained, it has been prefer¬
red to print, in the mean time, this short account
of the business, divested of scientific language, and suit¬
ed to the perusal of any practical husbandman. It
was indeed felt as a degree of wrong, not to take some
steps to make it public, as soon as the certainty of
success warranted. And both the power and the dura¬
tion of the manure have now stood the test of a great
variety of trials on a considerable extent of ground,
and of much diversity of soil, continued without in¬
termission during the last six years. Hitherto it has
been found equal, and even preferable, to common
farm-yard dung, for the first three years, and decided¬
ly to surpass it afterwards. It has been conjectui’ed,
from the appearance and effects of the compost, that
its parts are less volatile and soluble than those of
dung ; but that it yields to the crop what is requisite,
by the action of the living fibres of vegetables ; and
in this way wastes slower, and lasts longer. What¬
ever be in this, nothing has appeared more remarkable,
than its superiority in maintaining (for four and five
years) fresh and nourishing the pasture of thin clays,
that had been laid down with it, and in making them
yield well when again ploughed, and that without any
top dressing, or new manure of any sort. Employed
in this way, the effect of common dung is soon over,
the soil becoming consolidated, and the pasture stunt¬
ed 5 and hence such soils have not usually been culti¬
vated with advantage, except by tillage, and by the
aid of quantities of manure, got by purchase, and
much beyond the produce of the farm-yard. It is be¬
lieved that the foregoing directions will, if practised,
prove beneficial to every farmer who has access to
peat-moss within a moderate distance j but it is to
the farmers of the soils now mentioned, and of hungry
gravels, to whom they would be found particularly
valuable.
“ Let it be observed, that the object in making up
the compost is to form as large a hot-bed as the quanti¬
ty of dung employed admits of, and then to surround
it on all sides so as to have the whole benefit of the
heat and effluvia. Peat, as dry as garden-mould, in
seed-time, may be mixed with the dung, so as to double
the volume and more, and nearly triple the weight,
and instead of hurting the heat prolong it. Work¬
men must begin with using layers $ but, when accustom¬
ed to the just proportions, if they are furnished with
peat moderately dry, and dung not lost in litter, they
throw it up together as a mixed mass 5 and they im¬
prove in the art, so as to make a less proportion of dung
serve for the preparation.” ^
With regard to the other kinds of manure common- of the
ly used in this country, their efficacy is well known ; more com-
the only difficulty is to procure them in sufficient quan-mon kind>
tity.—of manurC
(o) This they may, though driven in winter, and drowned in the heaps by rains. They have only to turn it
over with a very small additional quantity of new burnt shells when they come to use it.
’art I.
A G R I C
Manures.
4P
lanures
sed in
iorfolk.
tity.—In such lands as lie near the sea, sea-weeds offer
an unlimited quantity of excellent manure. In the
neighbourhood of rivers, the weeds with which they
abound offer likewise an excellent manure in plenty.
Oil-cake, malt-coombs, the refuse of slaughter-houses,
&c. all are excellent where they can be got : but the
situations which afford these are comparatively few $ so
that in most cases the farmer must depend much on his
own ingenuity and industry for raising a sufficient quan¬
tity of dung to answer his purposes : and the methods
taken for this purpose vary according to the situation
of different places, or according to the fancy of the
husbandman.
In all countries where chalk, marl, or lime, are to be
had, they are certainly to be employed in their proper
departments $ but besides these, dung, properly so called,
mixed with earth or putrid animal and vegetable sub¬
stances, every where constitutes a principal part of the
manure. In Norfolk, Mr Marshall tells us, that the qua¬
lity of dung is attended to with greater precision than in
most other districts. Town-muck, as it is called, is held
in most estimation j and the large towns Norwich and
Yarmouth supply the neighbouring country. As Yar¬
mouth, however, is a maritime place, and otherwise
in a manner surrounded by marshes, straw is of course
a scarce and dear article j whence, instead of littering
their horses with it, they use sand. As the bed becomes
soiled or wet, fresh sand is put on, until the whole is in
a manner saturated with urine and dung, when it is
cleared away, and reckoned muck of such excellent
quality, that it is sent for from a very great distance.
With regard to other kinds of dung, that from horses
fed upon hay and corn is looked upon to be the best;
that of fatting cattle the next; while the dung of lean
cattle, particularly of cows, is supposed to be greatly
inferior, even though turnips make part of their food.
The dung of cattle kept on straw alone is looked upon
to be of little or no value ; while the muck from trod¬
den straw is by some thought to be better than that from
the straw which is eaten by the lean stock.—Composts
ot dung with marl or earth are very generally used,
t the mid-. t^ie counties of England, Mr Marshall
nddi- informs us, the cores of horns crushed in a mill have
been used as a manure j though he knows not with
what success. His only objection is the difficulty of
reducing them to powder. Dung is extremely dear
in Norfolk; half a guinea being commonly given for
a waggon-load driven by five horses. Great quanti¬
ties of lime and marl are found in this district. With
regard to the method of raising dung in general, per¬
haps the observations of Mr Marshall upon the ma¬
nagement of the Yorkshire farmers may be equally sa¬
tisfactory with any thing that has yet been published
on the subject.
“ The general practice (says he) is to pile the
dung on the highest part of the yard $ or, which is
forstill less judicious, to let it lie scattered about on the
side of a slope, as it were for the purpose of dissipating
its virtues. The urine which does not mix with the
dung is almost invariably led off the nearest way to the
common sewer, as if it were thought a nuisance to the
premises. That which mixes with the dung is of course
carried to the midden, and assists in the general dissipa¬
tion. A yard of dung, nine-tenths of which are straw,
will discharge, even in dry weather, some of its more
net.
44 *
r Mar-
all’s di-
ising
iirg.
U L T U R E. 463
fluid particles ; and in rainy weather is, notwithstand- Manures,
ing the straw, liable to be washed away if exposed on a 1 - — v— -j
I'ising ground. But how much more liable to waste is
a mixture of dung and urine, with barely a sufficiency
of straw to keep them together ! In dry weather the na¬
tural oozing is considerable ; and in a wet season every
shower of rain washes it away in quantities. The Nor¬
folk method of bottoming the dung-yard with mould
is here indispensably necessary to common good ma¬
nagement. Ihere is no better manure for grass-lands
than mould saturated with the oozing of a dunghill 1
it gets down quickly among the grass, and has gene¬
rally a more visible effect than the dung itself. Under
this management the arable land would have the self¬
same dung it now has $ while the grass-land would
have an annual supply of riches, which now run to waste
in the sewers and rivulets. But before a dung-yard
can with propriety be bottomed with mould, the bot¬
tom of the yard itself ought to be properly formed.
A part of it situated conveniently for carriages to come
at, and low enough to receive the entire drainings of
the stable, cattle-stalls, and hog-sties, should be hol¬
lowed out in the manner of an artificial drinking-pool,
with a rim somewhat rising, and with covered drains
laid into it from the various sources of liquid ma¬
nure. During the summer months, at leisure times,
and embracing opportunities of back-carriage, fill the
hollow nearly full with mould, such as the scourings
of ditches, the shovellings of roads, the maiden earth
of lanes and waste corners, the coping of stone-quar¬
ries, &c. &c. leaving the surface somewhat dished j
and within this dish set the dung-pile, carefully keep¬
ing up a rim of mould round the base of the pile higher
than the adjoining surface of the yard ; equally to pre¬
vent extraneous matter from finding its way into the
reservoirs, and to prevent the escape of that which falls
within its circuit.”
rIhe use of lime as a manure, was formerly men-of lime as
tioned*, and also the principle upon which its value de-a manure,
pends. It ought to be used not for the purpose of* N° 79»
giving food to the plants, but as a stimulant, tending80’Sl'
to bring the soil into activity, by reducing to mould
all the dead roots of vegetables with which it may
abound. Hence it ought never to be used without
dung upon soils that have been exhausted by repeated
cropping, and that are in a clean state.
However people rtray differ in other particulars, all its opera-
agree, that the operation of lime depends on its inti-tions.
mate mixture with the soil; and therefore that the pro¬
per time of applying it, is when it is perfectly powder¬
ed, and the soil at the same time in the highest degree
of pulverization. Lime of itself is absolutely barren j
and yet it enriches a barren soil. Neither of the two
produces any good effect without the other; and con¬
sequently, the more intimately they are mixed, the ef¬
fect must be the greater.
Hence it follows, that lime ought always to be sla¬
ked with a proper quantity of water, because by that
means it is reduced the most effectually into powder.
Lime left to be slaked by a moist air, or accidental rain, ,
is seldom or never thoroughly reduced into powder,
and therefore can never be intimately mixed with the
soil. Sometimes an opportunity oilers to bring home
shell-lime before the ground is ready for it 5 and it is
commonly thrown into a heap without cover, trusting
to»
agriculture.
445
Time of
limine:.
464
Manure?, to rata for slaking. The proper way is, to lay the
—v—^ shell-lime in different heaps on the ground where it is
to be spread, to reduce these heaps into powder by sla¬
king with water, and to cover the slaked lime with sod,
so as to defend it from rain. One, however, should
avoid as much as possible the bringing home lime be¬
fore the ground be ready for it. Where allowed to
lie long in a heap, there are two bad consequences:
first, lime attracts moisture, even though well covered,
and runs into clots, which prevents an intimate mix¬
ture 5 and, next, we know that burnt limestone, whe¬
ther in shells or in powder, returns gradually into
its original state of limestone j and upon that account
also, is less capable of being mixed with the soil. And
this is verified by a fact, that, after lying long, it is so
hard bound together as to require a pick to separate the
.parts.
For the same reason, it is a bad practice, though
common, to let spread lime lie on the surface all win¬
ter. The bad effects above mentioned take place here
in part: and there is another, that rain washes the
lime down to the furrows, and in a hanging field car¬
ries the whole away.
As the particles of powdered lime are both small and
heavy, they quickly sink to the bottom of the furrow,
if care be not taken to prevent it. In that view, it is
a rule, that lime be spread and mixed with the soil
immediately before sowing, or along with the seed. In
this manner of application, there being no occasion to
move it till the ground be stirred for a new crop, it
has time to incorporate with the soil, and does not rea¬
dily separate from it. Thus, if turnip-seed is to be
sown broad-cast, the lime ought to be laid on imme¬
diately before sowing, and harrowed in with the seed.
If a crop of drilled turnip or cabbage be intended, the
lime ought to be spread immediately before forming in
drills. With respect to wheat, the lime ought to be
spread immediately before seed-furrowing. If spread
more early, before the ground be sufficiently broken,
it sinks to the bottom. If a light soil be prepared
for barley, the lime ought to be spread after seed-fur¬
rowing, and harrowed in with the seed. In a strong
soil, it sinks not so readily to the bottom, and there¬
fore, before sowing the barley, the lime ought to be
mixed with the soil by a brake. Where moor is sum¬
mer-fallowed for a crop of oats next year, the lime
ought to be laid on immediately before the last plough¬
ing, and braked in as before. It has sufficient time
to incorporate with the soil before the land be stirred
again.
The quantity to be laid on depends on the nature of
the soil. Upon a strong soil, 70 or 80 bolls of shells
are not more than sufficient, reckoning four small firlots
to the boll, termed wheat measure; nor will it be an
overdose to lay on 100 bolls. Between 50 and 60 may
suffice upon medium soils; and upon the thin or gra¬
velly, between 39 and 40. It is not safe to lay a much
greater quantity on such soils.
JLunuig7pas- It is common to lime a pasture-field immediately
tare-fields, before ploughing. This is an unsafe practice ; it is
thrown to the bottom of the furrow, from which it is
never fully gathered up. The proper time for liming
a pasture field, intended to be taken up for corn, is a
year at least, or twro, before ploughing. It is washed
Practice.
446
Quantity.
in by rain along the roots of the plants, and has time Manures,
to incorporatewdth the soil. v v——'
Limeston eat small makes an excellent manure; 44^
and suppliestke want of powdered lime where there islmie-
no fuel to brn the limestone. Limestone beat small
has not hitheto been much used as a manure ; and the
proportion beween it and powdered lime has not been
ascertained. What follows may give some light. Three
pounds of rw lime is by burning reduced to two
pounds of sbtl-lime. Yet nothing is expelled by the
fire but the rr that was in the limestone: the calca¬
reous earth rmains entire. Ergo, two pounds of shell-
lime containaa much calcareous earth as three pounds
of raw limesone. Shell-lime of the best quality, when
slaked withwater, will measure out to thrice the quan¬
tity. But a-limestone loses none of its bulk by being
burnt into sells, it follows that three bushels of raw
limestone cocain as much calcareous earth as six bu¬
shels of powered lime ; and consequently, if powdered
lime possessint some virtue above raw limestone, three
bushels of tb latter beat small should equal as a manure
six bushelsiftihe former. _ 44?
Shell-may as a manure is managed in every respect Of shell¬
like pow’derti lime ; with this only difference, that a marl,
fifth or a forth part more in measure ought to be given.
The reason! s,- that shell marl is less weighty than lime*,
and that a btl of it contains less calcareous earth, which
is the fructifying part of both.
Clay aridstooe marls, with respect to husbandry, are of clay and
the same, tbugh in appearance different. stone marls,
The gooness of marl depends on the quantity of cal¬
careous esih in it: which has been known to amount
to a half omiore. It is too expensive if the quantity
be less than third or a fourth part. Good marl is the
most substatial of all manures; because it improves the
weakest grond to equal the best borough-acres. The
low part ofllerwicksbire, termed the Merse, abounds
everywhere with this marl ; and is the only county in
Scotland were it is plenty.
Land oubt to be cleared of weeds before marling;
and it ouet to be smoothed with the brake and har¬
row, in orer that the marl may be equally spread.
Marl is adssil on which no vegetable will grow ; its
efficacy deends, like that of lime, on its pulverization,
and intimee mixture with the soil. Toward the for¬
mer, alterate drought and moisture contribute great-
ly, as alsoftest. Therefore, after being evenly spread,
it ought tolie on the surface all winter. In the month
of Octobeut may be roused with a brake ; which will
bring to te surface, and expose to the air and frost, all
the hard nrts, and mix with the soil all that is pow¬
dered. hnthat respect it differs widely from dung and
lime, whin ought usually to be ploughed into the ground
without dtay. Oats is a hardy grain, which will an¬
swer for omg the first crop after marling better than
any othe^;and it will succeed though the marl be not
thorougWymixed with the soil. In that case, the marl
ought to be ploughed in with an ebb furrow immedi¬
ately beii>2 sowing, and braked thoroughly. It is tick¬
lish to mac wheat the first crop: if sown before winter,
frost swek the marl, and is apt to throw the seed out of
the groun ; if sown in spring, it will suffer more than
oats by wnt of due mixture.
Sumiee is the proper season for marling; because in
that
3
Part I.
Manures.
451
Of gypsum
as a ma¬
nure.
AGRICULTURE.
465
that season the marl, being dry, is not only lighter, but
is easily reduced to powder. Frost, however, is not im¬
proper for marling, especially as in frost there is little
opportunity for any other work.
Marl is a heavy body, and sinks to the bottom of the
furrow, if indiscreetly ploughed. Therefore the first
crop should always have an ebb furrow. During the
growing of that crop, the marl has time to incorporate
with the soil, and to become a part of it j after which
it does not readily separate.
Of late a new manure has been introduced into some
countries. This is gypsum, which is lime united with
sulphuric acid. In the eighth volume of the Annals
of Agriculture we are informed, that it is commonly
used as a manure in Switzerland. In the 10th volume
of the same work, Sir Richard Sutton gives some ac¬
count of an experiment made with it on his estate ; but
in such an inaccurate manner, that nothing could be
determined. “ The appearance in general (says he), I
think, was rather against the benefit of the plaster,
though not decidedly so.” He tells us, that its virtues
were a subject of debate in Germany. In America this
substance seems to have met with more success than in
any other country. In the fifth volume of Bath Pa¬
pers, Mr Kirkpatrick of the isle of Wight, who had
himself visited North America, informs us, that it is
any plaster, produced only one ton and a half in j)rjp or
the same proportion.—Mr Powel concludes in favour Horse-
of the eftects of the plaster upon arable as well as grass hoeing
land. Husbandry.
Other accounts to the same purpose have been pub¬
lished, though it must also be remarked, that various
persons who have made trial of this manure, declare
themselves dissatisfied with it; but it does not appear
that it has hitherto been at all tried in this part of the
island.
When a soil abounds too much in particles of a par¬
ticular kind, it has been found expedient to mix it with
earth of a different character. Hence we are informed
in the 12th volume of the Annals of Agriculture, that
in Cornwall, large quantities of sea-sand are annually Qf j^sand
conveyed to the land, and laid upon the soil; a prac-as a nia-
tice which will no doubt have a tendency to ameliorate nBre*
stiff clays, and to render them more pervious to the
roots of plants. With the same view, and also to save
fuel, a practice is said to exist in the Netherlands, of
baking up the dross or culm of coal, and also peat-
earth, with clay, into lumps or bricks, which when
dried in the air, make excellent fuel, and also afford
an immense quantity of valuable ashes to be laid upon
the land.
much used in the United States, on account of its cheap¬
ness and efficacy ; though, from what is there stated, we
must undoubtedly be led to suppose, that its efficacy must
be very great before it can be entitled to the praise of
cJieapjiess. In the first place, it is brought from the hills
in the neighbourhood of Paris to Havre de Grace, and
from thence exported to America ; which of itself must
occasion a considerable expence, though the plaster were
originally given gratis. In the next place it must be
powdered in a stamping mill, and the finer it is powder¬
ed so much the better. In the third place, it must be
sown over the ground to be manured with it. The
quantity for grass is six bushels to an acre. It ought
to be sown on dry ground in a wet day; and its efficacy
is said to last from seven to twelve years. It operates
entirely as a top-dressing.
In the 10th volume of the Annals of Agriculture, we
have some extracts from a treatise by Mr Powel, presi¬
dent of the Philadelphia Society for encouraging Agri¬
culture, upon the subject of gypsum as a manure ; of
the efficacy of which he gives the following instances.
I. In October 1786* plaster of Paris was sown in a
rainy day upon wheat stubble without any previous cul¬
ture. The crop of wheat had scarce been worth reap-
ing, and no kind of grass seed had been sown upon the
ground; nevertheless, in the month of June it was co¬
vered with a thick mat of white clover, clean and even,
from six to eight inches in height. A piece of ground
adjoining to this white clover was also sown with gyp¬
sum, and exhibited a fine appearance of white and red
clover mixed with spear-grass. Some wet ground sown
at the same time was not in the least improved.—This
anecdote rests entirely on the veracity of an anonymous
farmer. 2. Eight bushels of plaster of Paris spread
upon two acres and a half of wheat stubble ground,
■which the spring before had been sowed with about
two pounds of red clover-seed to the acre for pasture,
yielded five tons of hay by the middle of June.
A small piece of ground of similar quality, but without
Vol. I. Part II. " f
Sect. VIII, Principles and Operations of the Drill or
Horse-hoeing Husbandry.
The general properties attributed to the new or drill
husbandry may be reduced to two, viz. the promoting
the growth of plants by hoeing, and the saving of seed ;
both of which are equally profitable to the farmer.
The advantages of tillage before sowing have already
been pointed out. In this place we must confine our-geS ascribed
selves to the utility of tillage after sowing. This kind to horse-
of tillage is most generally known by the name of yforse-hoeing,
hoeing.
Land sowed with wheat, however well it may be cul¬
tivated in autumn, sinks in the winter; the particles get
nearer together, and the weeds rise; so that in spring,
the land is nearly in the same situation as if it never had
been ploughed. This, however, is the season when it
should branch and grow with most vigour; and conse¬
quently stands most in need of ploughing or hoeing, to
destroy the weeds, to supply the roots with fresh earth,
and, by dividing anew the particles of the soil, to allow
the roots to extend and collect nourishment.
It is well known, that, in gardens, plants grow with
double vigour after being hoed or transplanted. If
plants growing in arable land could be managed with
ease and safety in this manner, it is natural to expect,
that their growth would be promoted accordingly. Ex¬
perience shows, that this is not only practicable, but at¬
tended with many advantages.
In the operation of hoeing wheat, though some of
the roots be moved or broken, the plants receive no
injury ; for this very circumstance makes them send
forth a greater number of roots than formerly, which
enlarge their pasture, and consequently augment their
growth.
Sickly wheat has often recovered its vigour after a
good hoeing, especially when performed in weather not
very hot or dry.
JN
Wheat,
466
Drill or Wheat, and such grain as is sown before winter, re-
Horse- quires hoeing more than oats, barley, or other grain
hoeing sown ;n the spring for, if the land has been well
Hutbamli y. before the sowing of spring corn, it neither
has time to harden, nor to produce many weeds, not
having been exposed to the winter’s snow and rain.
Of Sowing.
454
Method of As in the practice of the new husbandry, plants grow
s®vrl”S|in with greater vigour than by the old method, the land
Imsbandry sowed thinner. It is this principle of the
new husbandry that has been chiefly objected to 5 for,
upon observing the land occupied by a small number
of plants, people are apt to look upon all the vacant
space as lost. But this prejudice will soon be removed,
when it is considered, that in the best land cultivated
in the common method, and sown very thick, each seed
produces but one or two ears *, that, in the same land
sown thinner, every seed produces two or three ears $
and that a single seed sometimes produces 18 or 21 ears.
In the common method, as there are many more
plants than can find sufficient nourishment, and as it is
impossible to assist them by hoeing, numbers die before
they attain maturity $ the greatest part remain sickly
and drooping j and thus part of the seed is lost. On
the contrary, in the new method, all the plants have as
much food as they require ; and as they are, from time
to time, assisted by hoeing, they become so vigorous as
to equal in their production the numerous but sickly
plants cultivated in the common method.
Of Hoeing.
The new husbandry is absolutely impracticable in
lands that are not easily ploughed. Attempting to cul¬
tivate land according to this husbandry, without attend¬
ing to this circumstance, that it is practicable in no land
excepting such as has already been brought into good
tilth by the old method, has gone far to make it con¬
temptible in many places.
When a field is in good tilth, it should be sown so
thin as to leave sufficient room for the plants to extend
their roots. After being well ploughed and harrowed,
it must be divided into rows, at the distance of 30 inches
from one another. On the sides of each of these rows,
two rows of wheat must be sowed six inches distant from
each other. By this means there will be an interval of
two feet wide betwixt the rows, and every plant will
have room enough to extend its roots, and to supply it
with food. The intervals will likewise be sufficient for
allowing the earth to be hoed or tilled without injuring
the plants in the rows.
Hje differ- The first hoeing, which should be given before the
cnthoeings.winter, is intended to drain away the wet, and to dis¬
pose the earth to be mellowed by the frosts. These two
ends will be answered by drawing two small furrows at
a little distance from the rows, and throwing the earth
taken from the furrows into the middle of the intervals.
This first hoeing should be given when the wheat is in
leaf.
The second hoeing, which is intended to make the
plants branch, should be given after the hard frosts are
over. To do this with advantage, after stirring the
earth a little near the rows, the earth which was thrown
Practice.
into the middle of the intervals should be turned back Drill or
into the furrows. This earth, having been mellowed Horse,
by the winter, supplies the plants with excellent food,
and makes the roots extend. Husbandry.!
The third hoeing, which is intended to invigorate
the stalk, should be given when the ears of the corn
begin to show themselves. This hoeing may, however,
be very slight.
But the last hoeing is of the greatest importance, as
it enlarges the grain, and makes the ears fill at their
extremities. This hoeing should be given when the
wheat is in bloom j a furrow must be drawn in the
middle of the interval, and the earth thrown to the
right and left on the foot of the plants. This supports
the plants, prevents them from being laid, and prepares
the ground for the next sowing, as the seed is then to be
put in the middle of the ground that formed the in¬
tervals.
The best season for hoeing is two or three days af¬
ter rain, or so soon after rain as the soil will quit the
instrument in hoeing. Light dry soils may be hoed al¬
most at any time, but this is far from being the case with
strong clay soils •, the season for hoeing such is fre¬
quently short and precarious j every opportunity there¬
fore should be carefully watched, and eagerly embra¬
ced. The two extremes of wet and dry, are great ene¬
mies to vegetation in strong clay soils. There is a pe¬
riod between the time of clay soils running together,
so as to puddle by superfluous wet, and the time of their
caking by drought, in which they are perfectly ma¬
nageable. This is the juncture for hoeing •, and so
much land as shall be thus seasonably hoed, will not
cake or crust upon the surface, as it otherwise would
have done, till it lias been soaked or drenched again
with rain; in which case the hoeing is to be repeated
as soon as the soil shall quit the instrument, and as of¬
ten as necessary ; by which time the growing crop will
begin to cover the ground, so as to act as a screen to
the surface of the land against the intense heat of the
sun, and thereby prevent, in a great measure, the had
effects of the soil’s caking in dry weather.
By this successive tillage, or hoeing, good crops will
be obtained, provided the weather is not very unfavour¬
able.
But as strong vigorous plants are long before they
arrive at maturity, corn raised in the new way is later
in ripening than any other, and must therefore he sown
earlier.
In order to prepare the intervals for sowing again,
some well-rotted dung may be laid in the deep furrows
made in the middle of the intervals ; and this dung
must be covered with the earth that was before thrown
towards the rows of wheat. But, if the land does not
require mending, the deep furrow is filled without any
dung. This operation should be performed immediate¬
ly after harvest, that there may be time to give the
land a slight stirring before the rows are sowed; which
should occupy the middle of the space which formed
the intervals during the last crop. The intervals of the
second year take up the space occupied by the stubble
of the first.
Supposing dung to he necessary, which is denied by
many, a very small quantity is sufficient; a single layer,
put in the bottom of each furrow, will be enough.
Description
AGRICULTURE.
hrt I.
Drill or
Horse- Description of the Instruments commonly used in
ihoeins the New Husbandry.
fusbaadry.
456 Fig* 1. is a marking plough. The principal use of
isuuaientsthis plough is to straight and regulate the ridges. The
escribed, first line is traced by the eye, by means of three poles,
iHte X* placed in a straight line. The plough draws the first
furrow in the direction of this line 5 and at the same
time, with the tooth A, fixed in the block of wood
near the end of the cross-pole or slider BB, marks the
breadth of the ridge at the distance intended. The
ploughman next traces the next line or rutt made by
the tooth, and draws a small furrow along it: and con¬
tinues in this manner till the whole field is laid out in
straight and equidistant ridges.
Fig. 2. is a plough for breaking up ley, or turning
up the bottom of land when greatly exhausted. By its
construction, the width and depth of the furrows can
be regulated to a greater certainty than by any other
hitherto known in this country. Its appearance is
heavy : but two horses are sufficient to plough with it
in ordinary free land j and only four are necessary in
the stiffest clay-soils. The plough is likewise easily
held and tempered. A, is the sword fixed in the sizers
B, which runs through a mortise E, at the end of
the beam C, and regulates the depth of the furrow
by raising or depressing the beam j it is fixed by putting
the pin D through the beam and sword, and is move-
able at E.
lateX, Fig. 3. is a jointed brake-harrow with 24 teeth, sha¬
ped like coulters, and standing at about an angle of 80
degrees. By this instrument the land is finely pulve¬
rized, and prepared for receiving the seed from the
drill. It requires four horses in stiff, and two in
open land. This harrow is likewise used for level¬
ling the ridges j which is done by pressing it down by
the handles where the ridge is high, and raising it up
when low.
Fig. 4. is an angular weeding harrow, which may
follow the brake when necessary. The seven hindmost
teeth should stand at a more acute angle than the rest,
in order to collect the weeds, which the holder can drop
at pleasure, by raising the hinder part, which is fixed
to the body of the harrow by two joints.
lig. 5. is a pair of harrows with shafts. This harrow
is used for covering the seed in the drills, the horse go¬
ing in the furrow.
Fig. 6. is a drill-plough, constructed in such a man¬
ner as to sow at once two rows of beans, pease, or
wheat. This machine is easily wrought by two horses.
A, is the happer for containing the seed $ B, circular
boxes for receiving the seed from the happer ; CC, two
square boxes which receive the seed from small holes in
the circular boxes, as they turn round ; and, last of all,
the seed is dropped into the drills through holes in the
square boxes, behind the coulters D. The cylinder E
follows, which, together with the wheel F, regulates
the depth of the coulters and covers the seed j the har¬
row G comes behind all, and covers the seed more
completely. HH, two sliders, which, when drawn
out, prevent the seed from falling into the boxes $ and,
I, is a ketch which holds the rungs, and prevents the
boxes from turning, and losing seed at the ends of the
ridges.
. 467
Fig. •j. is a single hoe-plough of a very simple con- Dnii
struction, by which the earth in the intervals is stirred Morse-
and laid up on both sides to the roots of the plants, and hoeimr
at the same time the weeds are destroyed. AA the [Tusb->:icir.v;
mouldboards, which may be raised or depressed at plea¬
sure, according as the farmer wants to throw the earth
higher or lower upon the roots.
Fig. 2. is a drill-rake for pease. This instrument, p,
which is chiefly calculated for small inclosures of light
grounds, is a sort of strong plough rake, with four
large teeth at a, a, b, b, a little incurvated. The di¬
stance from a to c, and from b to b, is nine inches.
The interval between the two inner teeth, a and b, is
three feet six inches, which allows sufficient room for
the hole-plough to move in. To the piece of timber
c c, forming the head of the rake, are fixed the handles
d, and the beam e to which the horse is fastened. When
this instrument is drawm over a piece of land made
thoroughly fine, and the man who holds it bears upon
the bandies, four furrows, /, g, h, i, will be formed, at
the distances determined by the construction of the in¬
strument. These distances may be accurately preserv¬
ed, provided that the teeth a a return when the plough¬
man comes back, after having ploughed one turn, in
two of the channels formed before, marked bb : thus
all the furrows in the field will be traced with the same
regularity. When the ground is thus formed into drills,
the pease may be scattered by a single motion of the hand
at a certain distance from one another into the channels,
and then covered with the flat part of a hand-rake, and
pressed down gently. This instrument is so simple, that
any workman may easily make or repair it.
On Plate XI. is delineated a patent drill ma-Plate XL
chine, lately invented by the Reverend James Cooke
of Heaton Norris near Manchester. A, the upper
part of the seed box. B, the lower part of the same
box. C, a moveable partition, with a lever, by which
the grain or seed is let fall at pleasure from the upper
to the lower part of the seed-box, from whence it is
taken up by cups or ladles applied to the cylinder
D, and dropped into the funnel E, and conveyed
thereby into the furrow or drill made in the land
by the coulter F, and covered by the rake or harrow
G. H, a lever, by which the wheel I is lifted out
of generation with the wheel K, to prevent the grain
or seed being scattered upon the ground, while the
machine is turning round at the end of the land, by
which the harrow G is also lifted from the ground at
the same time, and by the same motion, by means of
the crank, and the horizontal lever h h. L, a sliding
lever, with a weight upon it, by means of which the
depth of the furrows or drills, and consequently the
depth that the grain or seed will be deposited in the
land, may be easily ascertained. M, a screw in the
coulter beam, by turning of which the seed-box B
is elevated or depressed, in order to prevent the grain
or seed being crushed or bruised by the revolution ol
the cups or ladles. Fig. 13. a rake with iron teeth, to be
applied to the under side of the rails of the machine,
with staples and screw nuts at n n, by which many
useful purposes are answered, viz. in accumulating
cuitch or hay into rows, and as a scarificator for young
crops of wheat in the spring, or to be used upon a fallow ■,
in which case, the seed-box, the ladle cylinder, the
coulters, the fpnnels, and barrows, are all taken away.
3 N 2 The
AGRICULTURE.
468
Drill or Tta side view of the machine is represented, for the
Horse- sake of perspicuity, with one seed-box only, one coul-
hoeing ter, one funnel, one harrow, &c. whereas a complete
Husbandry. n)acl];iie is furnished with five coulters, five harrows,
' v seven funnels, a seed-box in eight partitions, &c. with
ladles of different sizes, for different sorts of grain and
seeds.
These machines (with five coulters, sixteen guineas,
with four coulters fifteen guineas), equally excel in set¬
ting or planting all sorts of grain or seeds, even carrot-
seed, to exactness, after the rate of from eight to ten
chain acres per day, with one man, a boy, and two
horses. They deposite the grain or seed in any given
quantity, from one peck to three bushels per acre, re¬
gularly and uniformly, and that without grinding or
bruising the seed, and at any given depth, from half an
inch to half a dozen inches, in rows at the distance of
twelve, sixteen, and twenty-four inches, or any other
distance. They are equally useful on all lands, are du¬
rable, easy to manage, and by no means subject to be
put out of repair.
The ladle cylinder D is furnished with cups or la¬
dles of four different sizes for different sorts of grain
or seeds, which may be distinguished by the numbers
I, 2, 3, 4.—N° 1. (the smallest size) is calculated for
turnip-seed, clover-seed, cole-seed, rape, &c, and will
sow something more than one pound per statute acre.
N° 2. for wheat, rye, hemp, flax, &c. and will sow
something more than one bushel per acre. N° 3. for
barley j and will sow one bushel and a half per acre.
N® 4. for beans, oats, pease, vetches, &c. and will sow
two bushels per acre.
Notwithstanding the above specified quantities of
grain or seeds, a greater or less quantity of each may
be sown at pleasure, by stopping up with a little clay
or by adding a few ladles to each respective box. The
grain or seeds intended to be sown, must be put in those
boxes, to which the cups or ladles as above described
respectively belong, an equal quantity into each box,
and all the other boxes empty. The ladle cylinder may
be reversed, or turned end for end at pleasure, for dif¬
ferent sorts of grain, &c.
For sowing beans, oats, pease, &c. with a five coul¬
ter machine, four large ladles must occasionally be ap¬
plied at equal distances round those parts of the cy¬
linder which subtend the two end boxes. And for
sowing barley, eight large ones must be applied as a-
bove j or four ladles, N° 2. to each of the wheat boxes.
These additional ladles are fixed on the cylinder with
nails, or taken off in a few minutes ; but for sowing
with a four-coulter machine, the above alterations are
not necessary.
The funnels are applied to their respective places by
corresponding numbers. Care should be taken, that
the points of the funnels stand directly behind the backs
of the coulters, which is done by wedges being applied
to one side or other of the coulters, at the time they
are fixed in their respective places.
The machine being thus put together, which is rea¬
dily and expeditiously done, as no separate part will
coincide with any other but that to which it respec¬
tively belongs, and an equal quantity of grain or seed
in each of the respective boxes, the land also being pre¬
viously ploughed and harrowed once or so in a place to
level the surface j but if the land be very rough, a rol-
Practice.
ler will best answer that purpose, whenever the land is j)nq er
dry enough to admit of it 5 and upon strong clays a Horse-
spiked roller is sometimes necessary to reduce the size toeing
of the large dry clods ; which being done, the driver^usbandry,|
should walk down the furrow or edge of the land, and ,T.
having hold of the last horse’s head with his hand, he
will readily keep him in such a direction, as will bring
the outside coulter of the machine within three or four
inches of the edges of the land or ridge, at which
uniform extent, he should keep his arm till he comes
to the end of the land j where having turned round,
he must come to the other side of his horses, and walk¬
ing upon the last outside drill, having hold of the horse’s
head with his hand as before, he will readily keep the
machine in such a direction, as will strike the succeed¬
ing drill at such a distance from the last outside one, or
that he walks upon, as the coulters are distant from
each other.
The person who attends the machine should put
down the lever H soon enough at the end of the land,
that the cups or ladles may have time to fill, before he
begins to sow 5 and at the end of the land, he must ap¬
ply his right hand to the middle of the rail between
the handles, by which he will keep the coulters in the
ground, while he is lifting up the lever H with his left
hand, to prevent the grain being scattered upon the
headland, while the machine is turning round; this he
will do with great ease, by continuing his right hand
upon the rail between the handles, and applying his
left arm under the left handle, in order to lift the coul¬
ters out of the ground while the machine is turning
round.
If there be any difficulty in using the machine, it
consists in driving it straight. As to the person who
attends the machine, he cannot possibly commit any er¬
rors, except such as are wilful, particularly as he sees
at one view the whole process of the business, viz. that
the coulters make the drills of a proper depth 5 that
the funnels continue open to convey the grain or seed
into the drills *, that the rakes or harrows cover the
grain sufficiently ; and when seed is wanting in the
lower boxes B, which he cannot avoid seeing, he rea¬
dily supplies them from the upper boxes A, by apply¬
ing his band, as the machine goes along, to the lever
C. The lower boxes B should not be suffered to be¬
come empty before they are supplied with seed, but
should be kept nearly full, or within an inch or so of
the edge of the box.
If chalk lines are made across the backs of the coul¬
ters, at such a distance from the ends as the seed should
be deposited in the ground (viz. about two inches for
wheat, and from two to three for spring corn), the per¬
son that attends the machine will be better able to as¬
certain the depth the seed should be deposited in the
drills, by observing, as the machine goes along, whe¬
ther the chalk lines are above or below the surface
of the land 5 if above, a proper weight must be ap¬
plied to the lever L, which will force the coulters
into the ground j if below, the lever L and weight
must be reversed, which will prevent their sinking too
deep. >
In different parts of the kingdom, lands or ridges
are of different sizes j where the machine is too wide
for the land, one or more funnels may occasionally be
stopped with a little loose paper, and the seed received
into
AGRICULTURE.
1
Part I. AGRICULTURE. 469
prill or into such funnel returned at the end of the land, or
Horse- sooner if required, into the upper seed-box. But for
hoeing regularity and expedition, lands consiating of so many
Husbandly.wide from outside to outside, as the machine coil'
'^ tains coulters, when fixed at twelve inches distance, or
twice or three times the number, &c. are best calcula¬
ted for the machine. In wet soils or strong clays,
lands or ridges of the width of the machine, and in dry
soils, of twice the width, are recommended. For sow¬
ing of narrow high-ridged lands, the outside coulters
should be let down, and the middle ones raised, so that
the points of the coulters may form the same curve
that the land or ridge forms. And the loose soil har¬
rowed down into the furrows should be returned to the
edges of the lands or ridges from whence it came, by
a double mouldboard or other plough, whether the land
be wet or dry.
Clover or other leys, intended to be sown by the ma¬
chine, should be ploughed a deep strong furrow and well
harrowed, in order to level the surface, and to get as
much loose soil as possible for the coulters to work in ;
and when sown, if any of the seed appears in the drills
uncovered by reason of the stilf texture of the soil, or
toughness of the roots, a light harrow may be taken over
the land, once in a place, which will effectually cover
the seed, without displacing it all in the drills. For
sowing leys, a considerable weight must be applied to
the lever L, to force the coulters into the ground; and
a set of wrought-iron coulters, well steeled, and made
sharp at the front edge and bottom, are recommended ;
they will pervade the soil more readily, consequently
require less draught, and expedite business more than
adequate to the additional expence.
For every half acre of land intended to be sown by
the machine with the seed of that very valuable root,
carrot, one bushel of saw-dust, and one pound of car¬
rot-seed, should be provided $ the saw-dust should be
made dry, and sifted to take out all the lumps and
chips, and divided into eight equal parts or heaps $ the
carrot-seed should likewise be dried, and well rubbed
between the hands, to take off the beards, so that it
may separate readily ; and being divided into eight
equal parts or heaps, one part of the carrot-seed must
be well mixed with one part of the saw-dust, and so on,
till all the parts of carrot-seed and saw-dust are well
mixed and incorporated together ; in which state it
may be sown very regularly in drills at twelve inches
distance, by the cups or ladles N° 2. Carrot-seed re¬
sembling saw dust very much in its size, roughness,
weight, adhesion, &c. will remain mixed as above du¬
ring the sowing; a ladleful of saw-dust will, upon an
average, contain three or four carrot-seeds, by which
means the carrot-seed cannot be otherwise than regular
in the drills. In attempting to deposite small seeds
near the surface, it may so happen that some of the
seeds may not be covered with soil : in which case,
a light roller may be drawn over the land after the
seed is sown, which will not only cover the seeds, but
will also, by levelling the surface, prepare the land
for an earlier hoeing than could otherwise have taken
place.
It has always been found troublesome, sometimes
impracticable, to soav any kind of grain or seeds (even
broad-cast) in a high wind. This inconvenience is ea->
tirely obviated by placing a screen of any kind of cloth, Drill or
or a sack, supported by two uprights nailed to the sides Horse-
of the machine, behind the funnels, which will prevent
the gx-ain or seed being blown out of its direction in .
falling from the ladles into the funnels. Small pipes cf
tin may also be put on to the ends of the funnels, to
convey the grain or seed so near the surface of the land,
that the highest wind shall not be able to interrupt its
descent into the drills.
Respecting the use of the machine, it is frequently
remarked by some .people not conversant with the pro¬
perties of matter and motion, that the soil will close
after the coulters, before the seed is admitted into the
drills. Whereas the very contrary is the case ; for the
velocity of the coulters in passing through the soil, is
so much greater than the velocity with which the soilj-
closes up the drills by its own spontaneous gravity, that
the incisions or dx-ills will be constantly open for three
or four inches behind the coulters ; by which means it
is morally impossible (if the points of the funnels stand
directly behind the coulters) that the seed, with the ve¬
locity it acquires in falling through the funnels, shall
not be admitted into the drills.
Fig. 12. is a new constructed simple hand-hoe, by Plate XL
which one man will effectually hoe two chain acres
day, earthing up the soil at the same time to the rows
of coim or pulse, so as to cause roots to issue fi’om the
first joint of the stem, above the surface of the land,
which otherwise would never have existed.
This hoe is worked much in the same manner as a
common Dutch hoe, or scuffle, is worked in gardens.
The handle is elevated or depressed, to suit the size of
the person that works it, by means of an iron wedge
being respectively applied to the upper or under side of
the handle that goes into the socket of the hoe.
The wings or moulding plates of the hoe, which are
calculated to earth up the soil to the rows of corn, so
as to cause roots to issue from the first joint of the stem
above the surface, which otherwise would not have ex¬
isted, should never be used for the fii'st hoeing, but
should always be used for the last hoeing, and used or
not used, at the option of the farmer, when any inter¬
mediate hoeing is performed.
Comparative Advantages and Disadvantages of the
New and Old Systems.
We pretend not to determine whether the old or new
husbandry be preferable in every country. With regard
to this point, the climate, the situation of particular
land, skill and dexterity in managing the machinery,
the comparative expence in raising crops, and many
other circumstances, must be accurately attended to,
before a determination can be given.
To give an idea of the arguments by which the drill
husbandry was originally supported, we shall here take
notice of a comparative view of the old and new methods
of culture which was furnished for the editors of Mr
Tull’s Horse-Hoeing Husbandry, by a gentleman xvho
for some years practised both in a country where the soil
was light and chalky, like that from which he drew his
observations. It is necessary to remark, that in the new
husbandry every article is stated at its full value, and
the crop of each year is four bushels short of the other j ,
though*,
47°
Drill or
Horse-
hoeing
Husbandry.
Compara¬
tive view
of the ex-
pence and
profits of
the old and
new hus¬
bandry.
AGRICULTURE.
though, in several years experience, it has equalled and
generally exceeded those in the neighbourhood in the
old way.
Practice.
“ An estimate of the expence and profit of 10 acres of
land in 20 years.
I. In the old
way.
First year, for wheat, costs 33I. 5s.
viz. L. s. d. L. s. d.
First ploughing, at 6s. per acre 300
Second and third ditto, at 8s.
per acre - 400
Manure, 30s. per acre - 1500
   22 O 0
Two harrowings, and sowing,
at 2s. 6d. per acre - 150
Seed, three bushels per acre, at
4s. per bushel - 600
Weeding, at 2s. per acre 100
Heaping, binding, and carry¬
ing, at 6s. per acre - 300
  II J O
Second year, for barley, costs
us. 6s. 8d. viz.
Once ploughing, at 6s. per
acre - - 300
Harrowing and sowing, at
is. 6d. per acre - o 15 o
Weeding, at is. per acre o 10 o
Seed, four bushels per acre,
at 2s. per bushel - 400
Cutting, raking, and carrying,
at 3s. 2d. per acre - 1 11 8
Grass seeds, at 3s. per acre 1 10 o
   11 6 8
44 11 8
Third and fourth years, lying in grass,
cost nothing j so that the expence of
ten acres in four years comes to 44I.
Iis. 8d. and in twenty years to - 22218 4
First year’s produce is half a
load of wheat per acre, at 7I. 35 O O
Second year’s produce is two
quarters of barley per acre,
at ll. - - 20 O O
Third and fourth years grass
is valued at il. 10s. per acre 15 o o
So that the produce of ten . . .. ■
acres in four years is 70 O o
And in 20 years it will be 350 o o
Deduct the expence, and there remains T|
clear profit on ten acres in twenty f 127 I 8
years by the old way - j
II. In the new way.
First year’s extraordinary expence is, for
ploughing and manuring the land, the
same as in the old way, L. 22 © 0
3
Ploughing once more, at 4s.
per acre
Seed, nine gallons per acre, at
4s. per bushel
Drilling, at yd. per acre
Hand-hoeing and weeding, at
2S. 6d. per acre
Horse-hoeing six times, at
I os. per acre
Reaping, binding, and carry¬
ing, at 6s. per acre
The standing annual charge
on ten acres, is
L.
d. L.
d.
Drill or
Horse-
hoeing
Husbandry.
O
10
13 J5 10
Therefore the expence on ten acres in
twenty years is - - 275 16 8
Add the extraordinaries of the first year, -
and the sum is - - 297 16 8
The yearly produce is at least two quar¬
ters of wheat per acre, at il. 8s. per
quarter j which on ten acres in twen¬
ty years, amounts to - - 560 O ©
Therefore, all things paid, there remains
clear profit on ten acres in twenty years ————
by the new way - - _ 262 3 4
“ So that the profit on ten acres of land in twenty Arguments
years, in the new way, exceeds that in the old byin favour©!
135I. is. 8d. and consequently is considerably mwedrill
than double thereof j and ample encouragement to prac- us an ^
tise a scheme, whereby so great advantage will arise
from so small a quantity of land, in the compass of a
twenty-one years lease $ one year being allowed, both
in the old and new way, for preparing the ground.
“ It ought withal to be observed, that Mr Tull’s
husbandry requires no manure at all, though we have
here, to prevent objections, allowed the charge thereof
for the first year $ and moreover, that though the crop
of wheat from the drill-plough is here put only at two
quarters on an acre, yet Mr Tull himself, by actual
experiment and measure, found the produce of his
drilled wheat crop amounted to almost four quarters on
an acre.”
It appears also from a comparative calculation of ex¬
pence and profit between the drill and common hus¬
bandry, taken from Mr Baker’s report to the Dublin
Society, of bis experiments in agriculture for the year
1765, that there is a clear profit arising upon an Irish
acre of land in 15 years, in the drill husbandry, of
52I. 3s. lid. and in the common husbandry, of 27I. 19s,
2d.; and therefore a greater profit in the drilled acre
in this time of 24I. 4s. 9d. which amounts to il. 12s.
3^d. per annum. From hence he infers, that in every
15 years, the fee-simple of all the tillage-lands of the
kingdom is lost to the community by the common course
of tillage. In stating the accounts, from which their
result is obtained, no notice is taken of fences, water¬
cutting the land, weeding and reaping, because these
articles depend on a variety of circumstances, and will,
in general, exceed in the common husbandry those in¬
curred by the other.
Besides, the certainty of a crop is greater in this new
way
AGRICULTURE.
Part I.
Drill or way than in the old way of sowing 5 for most of the
Horse- accidents attending wheat crops are owing to their
hoeinir being late sown, which is necessary to the' farmer in
! ry the old way; but in the horse-hoeing method, the far¬
mer may plough two furrows whereon the next crop
is to stand immediately after the first crop is off. In
this manner of husbandry, the land may be ploughed
dry and drilled wet, without any inconvenience ; and
the seed is never planted under the furrow, but placed
just at the depth which is most proper, that is, at about
two inches ; in which case it is easy to preserve it,
and there is no danger of burying it. Thus the seed
has all the advantage of early sowing, and none of the
disadvantages that may attend it in the other way, and
the crop is much more certain than by any other means
that can be used.
The condition in which the land is left after the
crop, is no less in favour of the horse-hoeing husbandry
than all the other articles. The number of plants is
the great principle of the exhausting of land. In the
common husbandry, the number is vastly greater than
in the drilling way, and three plants in four often
come to nothing, after having exhausted the ground
as much as profitable plants; and tbe weeds which live
to the time of harvest in the common way, exhaust the
land no less than so many plants of corn, often much
more. The horse-hoeing method destroys all the weeds
in the far greater part of the land, and leaves that part
unexhausted and perfectly fresh for another crop. Tbe
wheat plants being also but a third part of the number
at the utmost of those in the sowing way, the land is
so much the less exhausted by them ; and it is very evi¬
dent from the whole, that it must be, as experience
proves that it is, left in a much better condition after
4S9 ^an after the common husbandry.
Objections The farmers who are against this method object, that
nid an- jt makes the plants too strong, and that they are more
liable to the blacks or blights of insects for that rea¬
son ; but as this allows that the hoeing can, without the
use of dung, give too much nourishment, it is very plain
that it can give enough ; and it is the farmer’s fault if
he do not proportion his pains so as to have the advan¬
tage of the nourishment without the disadvantages. It
is also objected, that as hoeing can make poor land rich
enough to bear good crops of wheat, it may make good
land too rich for it. But if this should happen, the
sowing of wheat on it may be let alone a while, and in
tiie place of it the farmer may have a crop of turnips,
carrots, cabbages, and the like, which are excellent
food for cattle, and cannot be over-nourished: or, if
this is not chosen, the land, when thus made too rich,
may soon be sufficiently impoverished by sowing corn
upon it in the common old way.
Ihe method of horse-hoeing husbandry, so strongly
recommended by Mr Tull, is objected to by many on
account of the largeness of the intervals which are to
be left between the rows of corn. These are required
to be about five feet ivide ; and it is thought that such
wide spaces are so much lost earth, and that the crop
is to he so much the less for it. But it is to be obser-
- ve(^» that the rows of corn separated by these intervals
need not be single ; they may be double, triple, or
quadruple, at the pleasure of the farmer; and four
rows thus standing as one will have the five feet inter¬
val but one-fourth of its bigness as to the whole quan¬
tity, and it will be but as fifteen inch intervals to plants nriJ] or
in single rows. Corn that is sown irregularly in the Horse-
common way, seems indeed to cover the ground better hoeing
than that in rows; but this is a mere deceptio visus :^Insbandry.
for the stalks of corn are never so thick as when they
come out of one plant, or as when they stand in a row;
and a horse-hoed plant of corn will have 20 or 30
stalks in a piece of ground of the same quantity, where
an unhoed plant will have only two or three stalks. If
these stalks of the hoed plant were separated and
planted over the intervals, the whole land wonld be
better covered than it is in the common way ; and the
truth is, that though these hoed fields seem to con¬
tain a much less crop than the common sown fields, yet
they in reality do contain a much greater. It is only
the different placing that makes the sown crop seem
the larger, and even this is only while both crops are
young.
The intervals are not lost ground, as is usually sup¬
posed, but when well horse-hoed they are all employed
in the nourishment of the crop: the roots of the plants
m the adjoining rows spreading themselves through the
whole interval, and drawing such nourishment from it,
that they increase accordingly. When the plants stand
in the scattered way, as in common sowing, they are too
close to one another ; each robs its neighbours of part
of their nourishment, and consequently the earth is soon
exhausted, and all the plants half starved. The close
standing of them also prevents the benefit of after-till¬
ing, as the hoe cannot be brought in, nor the ground by
any means stirred between them, to give it a new
breaking and consequently afford them new food.
Experiments have abundantly proved, that in large
grounds of wheat, where the different methods have
been tried, those parts where the intervals were largest
have produced the greatest crops, and those where hoe¬
ing was used without dung have been much richer than
those where dung was used without hoeing. If it were
possible that plants could stand as thick, and thrive
as well over the whole surface of the ground, as they
do in the rows separated by these large intervals, the
crops of corn so produced would be vastly greater than
any that have been heard of; but the truth is, that
plants receive their growth not according to the ground
they stand on, but to the ground they can extend their
roots info ; and therefore a single row may contain
more plants than a large interval can nourish, and there¬
fore the same number that stand in that row, and no
more than these, could be nourished, if scattered over
the whole interval : and they would be much worse
nourished in that way ; because, while the interval is
void, the earth may be stirred about them, and new
roots will be formed in great numbers from every one
broken by the instruments, and new nourishment laid
before these roots by the breaking the particles of earth,
by which the plants will have supplies that they cannot
have when scattered over the whole surface, because
the ground is then all occupied, and cannot be moved
between the plants. g{
All soils and all situations are not equally proper for in wkat
this method of planting in rows, with large intervals situation
and hoeing between. The lightest soils seem to be best^6116^
for it, and the tough and wet clays the worst. Such
grounds as lie on the sides of hills are also less proper fcSE
than others for this work.
This
47 2
AGRICULTURE.
Drill or This method is not so proper in common fields but
Horse- that not in respect of the soil, but of the husbandry ot
hoeing the owners, who are usually in the old way, and change'
Husbandry. th ecieg of corn> make it necessary to fallow
' v ' every second, third, or fourth year. Nevertheless it
has been found by later experiments, that the intervals
between the rows of plants, as recommended by Mr
Tull, were too great, perhaps double of what they should
be in the most profitable method of culture 5 by which
means much less crops are obtained than might be pro¬
duced at nearly the same expence. This has rendered
the profits of the drill method much less than they would
have been in a more judicious practice, and, consequent¬
ly, has proved a great disadvantage to it in comparison
with the broadcast. Mr Tull was led into this, partly
from the want of move perfect instruments for hoeing,
and of ploughs proper for drilling.
To the preceding statements, the following observa¬
tions by Sir John Anstruther, published among the Se¬
lect Papers of the Bath Society, may not be improperly
46i subjoined.'
Observa- The slow progress which the drill husbandry lias
tions by Sii in many parts of Great Britain since !Mr Bull s
John An- he 0bserveS) has been principally owing to the
struther. want of proper drill-ploughs. Before drilling can be¬
come general, those ploughs must be simple, such as a
common ploughman accustomed to use such instru¬
ments can use without breaking, and such also as com¬
mon workmen can easily make or repau. Mathema¬
tical accuracy he considers as not required for deliver¬
ing the seed: for it matters very little whether there
be a quarter of a peck more or less sown, if it be deli¬
vered with tolerable regularity. He therefore had a
plough made, according to his own directions, by a
common plough-wright, of sufficient strength for any
land made fit for turnips or wheat. It was tried on
very rough ground unfit for sowing, in order to ascer¬
tain its strength ; and it had been used for eight years
without its needing any repair. It is a double drill-
plough, which sows two ridges at a time, the horse go¬
ing the furrow between them, and of course does not
tread upon the ground intended to be sown 5 which with
a single drill must be the case, and does much harm by
the horses feet sinking and making holes in the fine
ground, which retain the water, and hurt the wheat
when young.
He proceeds to observe, That having read Air
Forbes upon the extensive practice of the new hus¬
bandry, and some other authors, who give a more
clear and distinct account of the different operations
in drilling than had heretofore been given, 1 wish¬
ed to try them, and to adapt my plough to sow the
quantities therein directed. It was, however, ad¬
justed to sow a smaller quantity, and the seed was not
steeped.
“ Not having ground so proper as I wished, it was
drilled on the side of a field, the soil of which was
light and sandy, and in such bad order, that the pre¬
ceding crop was a very indifferent one. It was there¬
fore manured with a compost dunghill.
« After cross-ploughing and manuring, it was laid
into four and a half feet ridges, then harrowed and
' drilled with one peck and a half of wheat on an acre
and a quarter, which is nearly one peck and a fifth per
Practice.
English acre. It was drilled the 27th of October, and i3rM or
rolled after drilling. The crop was late in its appear- Horse-
ance, and very backward in the spring. 1,oeilljj
“ March 31st, it was horse-hoed one furrow from the ^ndl^
rows.
“ April 8th, it was hand-hoed and weeded in the
rows.
“ 25th, horse-hoed again, laying a furrow back to
the rows.
“ May 15th, hand-hoed the second time.
“ June 2d, horse-hoed from the rows.
“ June 12th, hand-hoed the third time.
“ July 14th, horse-hoed to the rows.
“ At this last hoeing, as many ol the ears were beat¬
en down into the intervals by wind and rain, a mars
went before the horse-hoe, and turned the ears back in¬
to their proper place.
“ The crop when reaped and threshed, yielded me
36 bushels on one acre and a quarter, which is 28 bush¬
els and three pecks per acre ; and the produce from one
peck and half 96 for one.
“ As the produce appeared so great, from land m
such bad order, it was carefully measured again, and
found to be right. But this increase, though great,
■was not so large as Mr Crake of Glasgow had without
dung.
Mr Randal says, ‘ It is an experimental fact, that
on a fine loam exquisitely prepared, 144 bushels have
been produced from one acre. And, I believe, it is not
known what the increase may be brought to in rich
lands by high cultivation.’
“ Some years since, I had beans dropt alternately
with potatoes, at two feet distance in the rows, which
were three feet apart, and ploughed in the intervals.
The land adjoining was sown with beans and pease,
which were a good crop; but those sown among the
potatoes a better one. I pulled one stem ot the beans
planted with the potatoes, which had three branches
rising from the bottom, and it produced 225 beans. In
all the trials of drilled beans, most of the stems had two
branches, with many pods upon each.- —From these
and other instances, I believe it is not yet known to
what increase grain may be brought by drilling, good
cultivation, and manure.
“ Horse-hoeing is certainly preferable to close drilling
or hand-hoeing; but the latter is superior to broad-
<< Horse-hoeing the full depth increases tlm crop, by
making it tiller or branch more than it otherwise would
do; and the advantage is distinctly observable every
hoeing, by the colour of the grain. It prepaies the
ground for the next crop, at the same time that it in¬
creases the crop growing, which hand-hoeing does not,
although it may destroy the weeds. Thus drilled ground
is kept in a loose open state to receive the benefit of the
influence of the air and weather, which, broad-cast has
not •, and it is evident from certain experience, that crops
may be drilled many years to good advantage without
manure.
“ Suppose the crops only 20 bushels per acre, wha
course of broadcast-crops will give 5I. an acre for the
course ? But suppose they are dunged the same as any
ground in the most approved course, there is the great¬
est reason to expect as much as in the above experi¬
ment.
Part I.
A G R I C U
Drill or
Horse-
hoeing
slusbandry.
ment, which is 28|, and at 5s. per bushel, amounts to
71* 3s- 9d* . # ,
“ Calculations may be of service to those who wish
_ to try drilling, and have few books to direct them.
“ One acre is 10 chains long, of 660 feet or 220
yards long, and one yard broad, containing 4840
square yards. Then if the ridge is four feet six inches,
this makes 24 ridges, and three feet to spare. This
length of 220 yards multiplied by 14 (the number of
ridges), gives a length of yards 3080, to which add
149 for the spare three feet, and it will be 3226 yards.
And as two rows are drilled on a ridge, the number
of rows will be in length 6452 yards ; but as a deduc¬
tion of 172 yards must be made for the head ridges,
suppose three yards each, &c. the whole length to be
sown will be 6280 yards clear. Now a gallon (Win¬
chester) holds about 80,000 grains. The quantity,
recommended to be drilled by Mr Forbes and others,
being six gallons, or two-thirds of a bushel, per acre,
is nearly 78 grains to a yard, or 26 to a foot. But in
my experiment, by this calculation, it was only about
11 grains to a foot: which is quite sufficient, if the
seed be good, and it be not destroyed by vermine.
“ Now with regard to the quantity of land this
drill plough may sow 5 if a horse walks at the rate of
two miles per hour, he goes 16 miles in eight hours, or
28,460 yards. As he sows two ridges at once, this is
seven lengths and two-thirds per acre, or 1686 yards
to sow an acre, being nearly 17 acres in a day.
“ Four horse hoeings are calculated equal to two
ploughings. In plain ploughing they suppose the ridge
is ploughed with four furrows, or eight for twice
ploughing. I he four horse-hoeings are eight furrows,
equal to two ploughings.
“ Mr Tull directs four hoeings, and Mr Forbes five.
1st, In November, when the plant has four blades.
2dly, In March, deep, and nearer the rows than the
iormer ; both these hoeings should be from the rows,
gdly, Hand-hoed when it begins to spindle, if the earth
be crumbly, to the rows. 4thly, When it begins to
blossom, from the rows, but as near to them as in the
second hoeing. 5thiy, When done blossoming, to ripen
and fill the grain, to the rows.
“ The last hoeing Mr Tull does not direct, but Mr
Forbes advises it, as being of essential service in filling
the grain, and saving trouble in making the next seed-
furrowrs. They advise the patent or sowing-plough for
horse-hoeing ; and the expence is calculated by Mr
Craick at one guinea per acre, reaping included.
“ But let us suppose the following, which are the
prices in the county I live in (Fife).
462
lie drill
id the
^ad-cast
ethods
parti
ilarly
spared.
Ploughing to form the ridges,
Harrowing, - -
Four hoeings, equal to twm ploughings,
Sowing - -
Hand-hoeing twice,
Seed, one peck and a half at 5s. a bushel
L. s. d.
4 o
o 4
8 o
o 4
8 o
1 10
Whole expence per acre, L. 1 2 6”
Drill husbandry is, as a good writer has justly de-
fitted it, “ t/?c practice ofa garden brought into the field.'1'1
Every man of the least reflection must be sensible, that
the practice of the garden is much better than that of
Vol. L. Part II. f
L T U R E.
the field, only a little more expensive j but if (as is the
case) this extra expence be generally much more than
repaid by the superior goodness and value of drilled
crops, it ought to have no weight in comparing the two
modes of husbandry.
In the broad-cast method the land is often sown in
bad tilth, and always scattered at random, sometimes
by very unskilful hands. In drilling, the land must be
in fine order j the seed is set in trenches drawn regu¬
larly ; all of nearly an equal depth, and that depth
suited to the nature of each kind of seed. These seeds
are also distributed at proper distances, and by being
equally and speedily covered, are protected from ver¬
mine and other injuries j so that the practice of the
garden is here exactly introduced into the field.
In the broad-cast method the seed falls in some places
too thick 5 in others too thin 5 and being imperfectly
covered, a part of it is devoured by vermine which fol¬
low the sower; another part is left exposed to rain or
frost, or to heats, which greatly injure it. When har¬
rowed, a great part of it (small seeds especially) is
buried so deep, that, if the soil be wet, it perishes be¬
fore it can vegetate.
Again : When thus sown, there is no meddling with
the crop afterwards, because its growth is irregular.
The soil cannot be broken to give it more nourishment,
nor can even the weeds be destroyed without much in¬
convenience and injury.
But in the drill-husbandry the intervals between the
rows, whether double or single, may be horse-hoed ; and
thereby nourishment may repeatedly be given to the
plants, and the weeds almost totally destroyed.
The very same effects which digging has upon young
shrubs and trees in a garden, will result from horse-
hoeing in a field, whether the crop be corn or pulse :
For the reason of the thing is the same in both cases,
and being founded in nature and fact, cannot ever fail.
In drilling, no more plants are raised on the soil than
it can well support : and by dividing and breaking the
ground, they have the full advantage of all its fertility.
The plough prepares the land for a crop, but goes
no further; for in the broad-cast husbandry it cannot
be used : but the crop receives greater benefit from the
tillage of the land by the borse-hoe, while it is grow¬
ing, than it could in the preparation. No care in til¬
ling the land previous to sowing can prevent weeds ri¬
sing with the crop; and if these weeds be not destroyed
while the crop is growing, they will greatly injure it.
In the broad castliusbandry this cannot be done; but
in drilling, the horse-hoe will effect it easiiy.
And what adds to the farmer’s misfortune is, that
the most pernicious weeds have seeds winged with
down, which are carried by the wind to great distances;
such as thistles, sow-thistles, colts-foot, and some others.
If the expence of horse-hoeing be objected, there are
two answers which may very properly be made : The
first is, that this expence is much less than that of hand-
hoeing were it practicable, or of hand-weeding. The
second is, that it is more than repaid by the quantity of
seed saved by drilling ; to say nothing of the extra quan¬
tity and goodness of the crops, which are generally self-
evident.
Upon the whole, if the particular modes of culti¬
vating land by the new husbandry should, after all, be
, 3 O considered
473
Drill or
Hors..
hoeing
Husbandry,
474
Flax and
Hemp.
A G R I C U
considered as perhaps too limited to be universally
adopted ; yet it has been of great use in raising suspi¬
cions concerning the old method, and in turning the
views of philosophers and farmers towards improving in
ijeneral. Many real improvements in agriculture have
been the consequences of these suspicions j and as this
spirit of inquiry remains in full vigour, a solid founda¬
tion is laid for expecting still further improvements in
463 this useful art.
The drill- It may be proper here to remark, however, that the
husbandry driU.-|msbandry is by no means a modern European in-
dem^sco0- vention. It is now used in the Carnatic, and in all
^ery.
L T U R E.
Practice.
probability has existed among the industrious nations of Fiax ai)(j
India from a very early period. It is used not only lor Hemp,
all grains, but also for the culture of tobacco, cotton,
and the castor oil plant. Besides the drill-plough, and
the common plough, the Indians use a third, with a
horizontal share, which immediately follows the drill-
plough at work. It is set in the earth, about the
depth of 7 or 8 inches, and passes under three drills at
once. It operates by agitating the earth, so as to make
the sides of the drills fall in and cover the seed, which
it does so effectually as scarcely to leave any traces of a
drill.
PART II CULTIVATION OF VEGETABLES MORE PROPERLY ARTICLES OF
COMMERCE.
THESE in general are such as cannot be used for
food j and are principally flax, hemp, rape, hops, and
timber of various kinds. Of each ot these we shall treat
particularly in the following sections.
Sect. I. Of Flax and Hemp.
Flax and Flax is cultivated not only with a view to the
hemp. common purposes of making linen, but for the sake of
its seed also 5 and thus forms a most extensive article of
commerce j all the oil used by painters, at least for
common purposes, being extracted from this seed. The
Linseed- cake which remains after the extraction of the oil is
cake, lin- in some places used as a manure, and in others sold for
seed itself, fattening of cattle. In the Vale of Gloucester, Mr
and lime^ed ]yiarshall informs us, that it is, next to hay, the main
fattening01 article of stall-fattening j though the price is now be-
cattle. come so great, that it probably leaves little or no profit
to the consumer, having within a few years risen from
three guineas to six and six and a half, and the lowest
price being five guineas per ton *, and even this is lower
than it was lately. Hence some individuals have been
induced to try the effect of linseed itself boiled to a
jelly, and mixed with flour, bran, or chaff, with good
success, as Mr Marshall has been informed ; and even
the oil itself has been tried for the same purpose in
Herefordshire. Though this plant is in universal cul¬
ture over the whole kingdom, yet it appears, by the vast
4.66 quantity imported, that by far too little ground is em-
Culture of ployed in that way. As Mr Marshall takes notice of
flax in its culture only in the county of Yorkshire, it probably
Yorkshire. j10t make any great part of the husbandry of the
other counties of which he treats j and even in York¬
shire, he tells us that its cultivation is confined to a few
districts. The kind cultivated there is that called blea-
line, or the blue or lead-coloured flax, and this requires
a rich dry soil for its cultivation. A deep, fat, sandy
loam is perhaps the only soil on which it can be culti¬
vated with advantage. If sown upon old corn land, it
ought to be well cleaned from weeds, and rendered
perfectly friable by a summer-fallow. Manure is sel¬
dom or ever set on for a line crop : and the soil pro¬
cess consists generally of a single ploughing. The seed¬
time is in the month of May, but much depends on the
state of the soil at the time of sowing. “ It should
neither be wet nor dry j and the surface ought to be
made as fine as that of a garden bed. Not a clod of
the size of an egg should remain unbroken.” Iwo
bushels of seed are usually sown upon an acre : the sur¬
face, after being harrowed, is sometimes raked with
garden or hay rakes ; and the operation would be still
more complete, if the clods and other obstructions,
which cannot be easily removed, wrere drawn into the
interfurrows. A light hand-roller used between the
final raking and harrowing would much assist this ope¬
ration. The chief requisite during the time of vegeta¬
tion is weeding, which ought to be performed with the
utmost care ; and for this reason it is particularly re¬
quisite that the ground should be previously cleansed as
well as possible, otherwise the expence of weeding be¬
comes too great to be borne, or the crop must be con¬
siderably injured. It is an irreparable injury, if
through a dry season, the plants come up in two crops 5
or if by accident or mismanagement they' be too thin.
The goodness of the crop depends on its running up
with a single stalk without branches : for wherever it
ramifies, there the length of the line terminates 5 and
this ramification is the consequence ot its having too
much room at the root, or getting above the plants
which surround it. The branches are never of any
use, being unavoidably worked oft in dressing 5 and
the stem itself, unless it bear a due proportion to the
length of the crop, is likewise worked off’ among the
refuse. This ramification of the flax will readily be oc¬
casioned by clods on the ground when sown. A second
crop is very seldom attended with any profit •, for being
overgrown with the spreading plants of the first crop, it
remains weak and short, and at pulling time is left to rot
upon the land.
Flax is injured not only by drought but by frost, and
is sometimes attacked even when got five or six inches
high, by a small white slug, which strips off the leaves
to the top, and the stalks bending with their weight are
thus sometimes drawn into the ground. Hence, if the
crop does not promise fair at weeding time, our author
advises not to bestow farther labour and expence upon
it. A crop of turnips or rape will generally pay much
better than such a crop of flax. The time ot flax-har¬
vest in Yorkshire is generally in the latter end ot July
or beginning of August. ^
On the whole, our author remarks, that “ the good-jyfv har¬
ness of the crop depends in some measure upon its shall s re-
length 5 and this upon its evenness and closeness uPon
the ground. Three feet high is a good length, and ax cr
the
Part II.
Flax and
Hemp.
46S
Mr Bart¬
ley’s expe¬
riments.
. 4r’9
Remarks
by a Dorset-
the thickness of a crow’s quill a good thickness. A
fine stalk affords more line and fewer shivers than a
thick one. A tall thick set crop is therefore desi¬
rable. But unless the land be good, a thick crop can¬
not attain a sufficient length of stem. Hence the fol¬
ly of sowing flax on land which is unfit for it. Ne¬
vertheless, with a suitable soil, a sufficiency of seed
evenly distributed, and a favourable season, flax may
turn out a very profitable crop. The flax crop, how¬
ever, has its disadvantages : it interferes with harvest,
and is generally believed to be a great exhauster of the
soil, especially when its seed is suffered to ripen. Its
cultivation ought therefore to be confined to rich grass¬
land districts, where harvest is a secondary object, and
where its exhaustion may be rather favourable than
hurtful to succeeding arable crops, by checking the
too great rankness of rich fresh broken ground.
In the 5th volume of Bath Papers, Mr Bartley, near
Bristol, gives an account of the expences and produce
of five acres of flax cultivated on a rich loamy sand.
The total expence was 42I. 13s. qd. j the produce was
ten packs of flax at 5I. 5s. value 52I. 10s. 35 bushels
of linseed at 5s. value 81. 15s. j the net profit therefore
was 181. ns. 8d. or 4I. 13s. 4d. per acre. This gen¬
tleman is of opinion that flax-growers ought to make it
their staple article, and consider the other parts of their
farm as in subserviency to it.
In the second volume of Bath Papers, a Dorsetshire
gentleman, who writes on the culture of hemp and flax,
shire gen-1" S^ves an accoun*: somewhat different from that of Mr
tleman. Marshall. Instead of exhausting crops, he maintains
that they are both ameliorating crops, if cut without
seeding j and as the best crops of both are raised from
foreign seed, he is of opinion that there is little occa¬
sion for raising it in this country. A crop of hemp,
he informs us, prepares the land for flax, and is there¬
fore clear gain to the farmer.” “ That these plants
impoverish the soil,” he repeats, “ is a mere vulgar
notion, devoid of all truth.— The best historical rela¬
tions, and the verbal accounts of honest ingenious
planters, concur in declaring it to be a vain prejudice,
unsupported by any authority j and that these crops
Flax and reaffy meliorate and improve the soil.” He is like-
hemp may wise of opinion, that the growth of flax and hemp is
be cultiva- not necessarily confined to rich soils, but that they may
led upon cultivated with profit also upon poor sandy ground,
wdl as rich *f a ^ttle expence be laid out in manuring it. “ Spal-
frolls. ding-moor in Lincolnshire is a barren sand } and yet
with proper care and culture it produces the best hemp
in England, and in large quantities. In the isle of
Asholme, in the same county, equal quantities are pro¬
duced ; for the culture and management of it is the
principal employ of the inhabitants; and, according
to Leland, it was so in the reign of Henry VIII. In
Marshland the soil is a clay or strong warp, thrown
up by the river Ouse, and of such quality, that it
cracks with the heat of the sun, till a hand may be put
into the chinks ; yet if it be once covered with the
hemp or flax before the heats come on, the ground
will not crack that summer. When the land is sandy,
they first sow it with barley, and the following spring
they manure the stubble with horse or cow dung, and
plough it under. Then they sow their hemp or flax,
and harrow it in with a light harrow, having short
teeth. A good crop destroys all the weeds, and makes
AGRICULT UR E. 475
it a fine fallow for flax in the spring. As soon as the F]ax aIKi
flax is pulled, they prepare the ground for wheat. Hemp,
lame, marl, and the mud of ponds, is an excellent ‘v11 '
compost for hemp-lands.” 471
Our author takes notice of the vast quantity of flax Vast quan-
and hemp, not less than ll,OOOtons, imported in the^4
year 1763 into Britain j and complains that it is n°tfmporteil^
raised in the island, which he thinks might be done, ;nt0 Bri-
though it would require 62,000 acres for the purpose, tain.
He observes, that the greater part of those rich marshy
lands lying to the west of Mendip hills are very proper
for the cultivation of hemp and flax 5 and if laid out in
this manner could not fail of turning out highly advan¬
tageous both to the landholders and the public at large.
The vast quantities of hemp and flax (says he) which
have been raised on lands of the same kind in Lincoln¬
shire marshes, and the fens of the isle of Ely and Hun¬
tingdonshire, are a full proof of the truth of my as¬
sertion. Many hundreds of acres in the above-men¬
tioned places, which, for pasturage or grazing, were
not worth more than twenty or twenty-five shillings
per acre, have been readily let at 4I. the first year, 3I.
the second, and 2I. the third. The reason of this suppo¬
sed declining value of land, in proportion to the num¬
ber of years sown with flax, is, that it is usual with
them to seed for the purpose of making oil, that being
the principal cause of the land being thereby impove¬
rished.
It is certain, however, that the quantity of hemp
exported from St Petersburg!! in British ships has con¬
tinued to increase, so that in 1785 the quantity of
hemp exported from Petersburg!! in British ships was
as follows;
Foods.
Of clean hemp,
Outshot,
Half clean,
Hemp codille,
1,038,791
37>382
i8>374
Mi3>798
There are 63 poods to a ton, consequently the
whole amounted to 17,695 tons 5 and it is said that this
quantity has since been tripled and quadrupled. It is
therefore an object qf great national importance to
consider, whether flax and hemp might not be profitably
reared in our own country without producing any alarm
concerning their tendency to exhaust the soil. With
this view we shall here state the substance of a report
made by Mr Durno, British consul in Prussia in 1789, MrDurno’a
to the lords of the Committee of Council for Trade, con- rcPort 011
cerning the method of cultivating flax and hemp in 1 p*; culturf
Prussia, Kussia, and Poland. _ hemp in
A black, not morassy, open gravelly soil is preferred, Prussia,&c.
as flax and hemp become exuberant and coarse on too
rich a soil. To ascertain the proper middle degree of
strength of soil, previous crops of grain are taken. On
a vigorous soil wheat is first sown j then rye, barley,
oats ; and last of all flax or hemp. Two successive
crops of hemp are taken if the land is intermediately
dunged. For one crop of flax, it is not dunged at all.
On a soil of less strength, flax and hemp are sown im¬
mediately after a winter crop of rye, the land being
ploughed in autumn, if the weather allows, if not, in
spring. It is then harrowed and manured, and again
3 0 2 ploughed
47<>
AGRICULTURE.
Practice.
Flax anil
Hentp.
473
Culture of
Aax in Ire-
iaad.
ploughed immediately before sowing. Another win¬
ter crop of rye may immediately be sown in the same
field after drawing the flax or hemp, but after the flax ;
dung is in this case necessary. A field that has been
laid down in fallow, if only ploughed up, yields a bet¬
ter crop of flax than if manured and cultivated in the
above or any other way. Flax and hemp are sown
from the 25th of May to the 10th of June, and the
flax is reaped in the end of August, and hemp in the
end of September.
As to their effects on the soil, no kind of grain can
be sown immediately after a crop of flax without dung¬
ing, but after one of hemp, any grain, and even hemp
itself, may be sown without manure. Hemp cleans the
ground, by suffocating, by its broad leaves, all sorts of
weeds or undergrowth ; but flax must be weeded once
or twice before it blooms. Flax is plucked when the
stalk becomes yellowish, the pods brown, and the seed
hard and full bodied. For finer flax, the stalk is pull¬
ed while yet green ; but the seed is then sacrificed, and
fit only for crushing for oil, of which it produces a
small quantity. Hemp is also plucked or drawn when
the stalk and pods have changed colour. If the flax
is very dry when plucked, the seed is stripped off im¬
mediately 5 if not, it is allowed to dry on the field. The
seed-pods are spread thinly on a floor, where they are
turned twice a-day, till so dry that they open of them¬
selves ; when it is threshed and cleaned like other
grain. To gain the hemp-seed, the hemp itself, when
plucked, is set on end against any convenient place.
The roots and top-ends are then cut off. The roots
are thrown away, and the top-ends are threshed out
and cleaned. The seed is apt to be spoiled by remain¬
ing in a moist state for any length of time.
As soon as the seed has been gained, the flax and
hemp are steeped in water till the flax separate from
the rind, and the hemp till the harl springs from the
stalk. In soft water, in warm weather, nine or ten
days are sufficient for this purpose. In hard water,
with cold weather, from fourteen days to three weeks
are requisite. Stagnate is preferred to running water}
but fish ponds and the drinking places of cattle must
he avoided, as the fish tvould be destroyed, and the
water would be readered unwholesome and unpalata¬
ble to the cattle ; but a muddy or slimy bottom is pre¬
ferred. In the southern provinces of Poland, as Vol-
hinia, Podolia, &c. steeping is not practi-ed, on the
supposition that it weakens the harl and darkens
the colour, though this idea seems to have no founda¬
tion.
After being taken out of the steep, the flax is dried
on a grass field } after which it is gathered up into small
stacks } but the hemp, instead of being spread out on a
field, is set up against the walls of buildings till it is also
dried, after which they are both housed.
It is generally understood in these countries, that the
cultivation of flax and hemp is more profitable than that
of any kind of grain.
To this we shall add a concise statement of the mode
of cultivating flax in Ireland. A good crop of flax is
there expected from any strong clays that are fit for
the growth of corn ; hut an open black loamy soil, en¬
riched by having lain long in pasture, is preferable.
The ground must be in line tilth, and as free from
weeds as possible. Potatoes usually precede flax, though
3
turnips, beans, or any manured crop, are a good pre- Rape 01
paration : but the fir^t or second crop after pasture is C«l@-S*«|,
preferred to any of these. Stubble lands, that have ' 
been long in tillage, mav, by proper preparation, bring
a crop } but it is apt to fail in such situations, the stalks
turning to a reddish colour called firing before it ri¬
pens ; upon which it must immediately be pulled.
Two bushels of seed are used to the English acre, un¬
less for the purpose of a very fine manufacture } in
which case a large quantity of seed is used, and the
flax is pulled very green. The season of sowing is the
first fine weather after the middle of March. The
most approved mode of culture is in beds about six feet
broad, covering the seed about an inch and a half deep,
with earth shovelled out of the furrows : hut the most
ordinary mode is to sow on common ridges, and to
harrow in the seed. Before the flax is five inches
high it should be carefully hand-weeded; and if any
part lodges, it should be turned over. The produce
is usually worth 7I. sterling the English, acre. The
crop should stand till the lower part of the stalk be¬
comes yellowish, and the under leaves begin to wither,
unless the seed is to be preserved, which is done by rip¬
pling it through an iron comb, and the flax may be
steeped immediately after it is pulled. Turf-bog wa¬
ter, if clear, answers well, hut foul stagnate water stains
the flax. Too pure a spring is injurious. A reser¬
voir dug in clay is preferred. The time of lying in
the steep depends upon the quality of the water and
the state of the weather. It is dried on grass by be¬
ing spread thin } artificial heat has been recommended
for drying flax} but no good form of it has been sug-
gested*.... 474
In addition to what is here stated, the compiler of Sheep em-
this article accounts it proper to take notice of a mode to
of weeding flax that has frequently been practised mweedflax‘
Scotland. It consists of turning a flock of sheep at
large into the field. They will not taste the young
flax plants, hut they carefully search for the weeds,
which they devour. It may also be remarked, that for
drying flax in wet seasons, the steam kiln formerly pro¬
posed (N° 34.) would he a valuable instrument.
Sect. II. Rape or Cole-Seed.
This, as well as linseed, is cultivated for the pur¬
pose of making oil, and will grow almost anywhere.
Mr Plazard informs us, that in the north of England ifcz/A Pn-
the farmers pare and burn their pasture lands, and thenPm>vol,'r'
sow them with rape after one ploughing,} the crop
commonly standing for seed, which will bring from 25I. ^
to 30I. per last (80 bushels). Poor clay, or stone-Advantage
brash land, will frequently produce from 1 2 to 16 or cnltivat-
18 bushels per acre, and almost any fresh or virgininSiaPe*
earth will yield one plentiful crop} so that manyinsee'
the northern counties have been raised, by cultivating
this seed, from poverty to the greatest affluence. The
seed is ripe in July or the beginning of August} and
the threshing of it out is conducted with the greatest
mirth and jollity. ^ 4?6
The rape being fully ripe, is first cut with sickles, and Of cutting
then laid thin upon the ground to dry } and when inand
proper condition for threshing, the neighbours are in-
vited, who readily contribute their assistance. The
threshing is performed on a large cloth in the middle
of
477
tf sowing
47 S
rans-
"art II.
I Rape or °f fitlcl, and the seed put into the sacks and carried
Joie.-.'seed. home. It does not admit of being carried from the field
—ir-—' in the pod in order to be threshed at home, and there¬
fore the operation is always performed in the field; and
by the number of assistants procured on this occasion, a
field of 20 acres is frequently threshed out in one day.
The straw is burnt for the sake of its alkali, the ashes
being said to equal the best kind of those imported from
abroad.
The proper time of sowing rape is the month of
June; and the land should, previous to the sowing,
be twice well ploughed. About two pounds of seed
are sufficient for an acre ; and, according to our author,
it should l)e cast upon the ground with only the thumb
and two fore fingers ; for if it be cast with all the fin¬
gers, it will come up in patches. If the plants come
up too thick, a pair of light harrows should be drawn
along the field length-wise and cross-wise; by which
means the plants will be equally thinned; and when
the plants which the harrows have pulled up are wither¬
ed, the ground should be rolled. A few days after the
plants may be set out with a hoe, allowing 16 or 18
inches distance betwixt every two plants.
— Mr Hazard strongly recommends the transplanting
anting re-of rape, having experienced the good effects of it him-
immend- sej^ ^ rood of ground, sown in June, will produce
as many plants as are sufficient for to acres; which
may be planted out upon ground that has previously
borne a crop of wheat, provided the wheat be harvest¬
ed by the middle of August. One ploughing will be
sufficient for these plants ; the best of which should be
selected from the seed-plot, and planted in rows two
feet asunder and 16 inches apart in the rows. As rape
is an excellent food for sheep, they may be allowed to
„ feed upon it in the spring ; or the leaves might be
t rape. gat|]eve(|? and given to oxen or young cattle : fresh
leaves would sprout again from the same stalks, which
in like manner might be fed oft' by ewes and lambs in
time enough to plough the land for a crop of barley
and oats. Planting rape in the beginning of July,
however, would be most advantageous for the crop it¬
self, as the leaves might then be fed oft in the autumn,
and new ones would appear in the spring. Our author
discommends the practice of sowing rape with turnips,
as the crops injure one another. “ Those who look
for an immediate profit (says he), will undoubtedly
cultivate rape for seed ; but perhaps it may answer
better in the end to feed it with sheep ; the fat ones
might cull it over ftrst, and afterwards the lean or
store-sheep might follow them, and he folded thereon ;
if this is done in the autumn season, the land will be in
good heart to carry a crop of wheat; or where the rape
is fed off in tire spring, a crop of barley might follow.
In either case rape is profitable to the cultivator; and
when it is planted, and well earthed round the stems,
it will endure the severest winter; but the same cannot
be advanced in favour of that which is sown broad¬
cast.
Cole-seed is cultivated in Brabant, in the following
manner, according to the Abbe Mann. “ It is sown about
a ant. £jJe middle of July, and the young plants are transplant¬
ed about the end of September. This is done with a
narrow spade sunk into the ground, and moved with
the hand forwards and backwards ; which simple mo¬
tion, makes a sufficient opening to receive the plant;
479
seep may
led in
e spring
AGRICULTURE. 477
a boy or girl follows the labourer with plants, and put-, Coriander-
ting one of them into each hole, treads against it to Seed, en¬
close it up. If the plantation is done with the plough, naI>Sce(h
the plants are placed at regular distances in the furrow, C’
and are covered with the earth turned up with the suc¬
ceeding furrow. Sometimes, after the cole-seed is plant¬
ed, the foot of the stalks is covered, by means of a
common spade or hoe, with the earth near it, which
furnishes nourishment for the plants during winter, by
the crumbling of these little clods of earth over the
roots. Hie cole seed is reaped about midsummer or
latter, according as the season is more or less advanced ;
it is left on the field for ten or twelve days after it is
cut, and then threshed on a kind of sail-cloth, spread on
the ground for that purpose, and the seed carried in
sacks to the farm. When the crop is good, a bunder
produces about forty raziers of Bolbs. weight each. It
is to bt observed, that the ground whereon cole-seed is
to be planted, must be dunged and twice ploughed the
same year it is put in use.”
Sect. III. Coriander-Seed.
This is used in large quantities by distillers, drug¬
gists, and confectioners, and might be a considerable
object to such farmers as live in the neighbourhood of
great towns ; but the price is very variable, viz. from
16s. to 42s. per cvvt. In the 4th volume of Bath Pa- 4S1
pers, Mr Bartley gives an account of an experiment Mr Bart-
made on this seed, which proved very successful. Xen^?y s exPe*
perches ot good sandy loam were sown with coriandernmcnt’
on the 23d ol March 1783. Three pounds of seed
were sufficient for this spot ; and the whole expence
amounted only to 5s. iod. The produce was 87 pounds
of seed, which, valued at 3d. yielded a profit of 5s. 1 id.
or 15I. 18s. 4d. per acre. He afterwards made seve¬
ral other experiments on a larger scale ; hut none of the
crops turned out so well, though all of them afforded a
good profit.
Sect. IV. Canary-Seed.
4S2
This is cultivated in a large quantity in the Isle ofc^ture
Thanet, where it is said they have frequently 20 bushels
to an acre. Mr Bartley, in the month of March 1783,
sowed half an acre of ground, the soil a mixture of loam
and clay, but had only eight bushels and a half, or 17
bushels per acre. With this produce, however, he had
a profit of 4I. 2s. 3d. per acre.
Sect. V. Wood.
4S3
4S0
ilture of
pe-seed
The use of this in dyeing is well known, and the Woad easi-
consumption is so great, that the raising of the plantly cnltivat-
might undoubtedly be an object to a husbandman,ed*
provided he could get it properly manufactured for the
dyers, and could overcome their prejudices. At pre¬
sent, the growing of this plant is in a manner monopo¬
lized by some people in particular places, particularly
at Keynsham near Bristol in England. Mr Bartley
informs us, that in a conversation he had with these
growers, the latter asserted, that the growth of woad
was peculiar to their soil and situation. T he soil about
this place is a blackish heavy mould, with a consider¬
able proportion of clay, but works freely : that of
Brislington,,
Hops.
A G R I C U
Brislington, where Mr Bartley resides, a hazel san¬
dy loam } nevertheless, having sowed half an acre of
this soil with woad-seed, it throve so well, that he ne¬
ver saw a better crop at Keynsham. Having no ap¬
paratus, however, or knowledge of the manufacture,
he suffered it to run to seed, learning only from the
experiment, that woad is very easily cultivated, and
that the only difficulty is the preparing it for the
market.
Sect. VI. Hops.
4S4
slops tor- The uses of these as an ingredient in malt liquors,
ofoarlia^ aie vve^ h-no'vn* Formerly, however, they were sup-
ment, posed to possess such deleterious qualities, that the use
of them was forbid by act of parliament in the reign
of James VI. But though this act was never repeal¬
ed, it does not appear that much regard was ever paid
to it, as the use of hops has still continued, and is
found not to be attended with any bad effects on the
human constitution. The only question, therefore, is,
How far the raising a crop of them may be profitable
to a husbandman ? and indeed this seems to be very
doubtful.
Mr Arthur Young, in a Fortnight’s Tour through
* Annulsoflvent and Essex, informs us*, that at Castle Heding-
Agricul- ham he was told by Mr Rogers, who had a considerable
lure, vol. ii. h0p„p]antation, that four acres of hop-ground cost him
Expence 0fuPwai'^s I'2°1, aml t^iat t^ie usual exPences °f ^7“
cultivatino- ing out an acre of ground in this way amounted to
them at 34I. 6s. By a calculation of the expences of an acre
Castle Hed- jn Kent, it appeared that the money sunk to plant an
inghana. acre there amounted to 32I. 8s. 6d.; that the annnal
expence was 23I. and the profit no more than il. 8s.
id. In another place, he was informed by a Mr Potter,
who cultivated great quantities of hops, that if it w'ere
4Sg not for some extraordinary crops which occurred now
In Essex, and then, nobody would plant them. In Essex, the
expences of a hop-plantation are still greater than those
w?e have yet mentioned *, an acre many years ago re¬
quiring 75I. to lay it out on hops, and now not less
than look; the annual expence being estimated at
31I. is. while the produce commonly does not exceed
321- . . ,.
In the neighbourhood of Stow-market in this
county, Mr Young informs us, there are about aoo
acres planted with hops, but “ 18 or 20 are grubbed
up within two years, owing to the badness of the
times.” Here they are planted on a black loose moor,
very wet and boggy; and the more wet the better for
the crop, especially if the gravel which constitutes
the bottom, be not ‘more than three feet from the sur¬
face. In preparing the ground for hops, it is formed
into beds, 16 feet wide, separated from each other by
trenches. In these beds they make holes six feet
asunder, and about 12 inches diameter, three rows
upon a bed. In each hole they put about half a peck
of very rotten dung or rich compost ; scatter earth
upon it, and plant seven sets in each ; drawing earth
enough to them afterwards to form something of a
hillock. A hop-garden, Mr Young informs us, “ will
last almost for ever, by renewing the hills that fail, to
the amount of about a score annually, but it is rec¬
koned better to grub up and new-plant it every 20 or
25 years.”
L T U R E. „ Practice.!
In this volume of the Annals, Mr Young informs Cultivation
us, that “ one profit of hop-land is that of breaking of Fruit,
it up. Mr Potter grubbed up one garden, which fail- ' "y "J
ing, he ploughed and solved barley, the crop gl’eat'• pro^t70f !
then maZagan beans, two acres of which produced 16 breaking
quarters and five bushels. Fie then sowed it with up hop-
wheat, which produced 13 quarters and four bushelspi'ecs.j
and a half: hut since that time the crops have not110U!’‘
been greater than common. The same gentleman has
had 10 quarters of oats after wheat.” In the ninth
volume of the same work, however, we have an ac¬
count of an experiment by Mr Le Bland of Sitting-
bourn in Kent, of grubbing up 12 acres of hop-
ground, which was not attended with any remarkable
success. Part of the hops were grubbed up in the
year 1781, and mazagan beans sown in their stead : but
by reason of the seed being bad, and the dry summer,
the crop turned out very indifferent. Next year the
remainder of the hops were grubbed up, and the whole
12 acres sown with wheat; but still the crop turned
out very bad, owing to the wet summer of that year.
It was next planted with potatoes, which turned out
w'ell : and ever since that time the crops have been
good. This gentleman informs us, that the person
who had the hop-ground above mentioned did not lose
less by it than 1500k 488
The culture of hops seems to be confined in a great ^ultu.re
measure to the southern counties of England ; for Mr ot
Marshall mentions it as a matter of surprise, that in declmi
Norfolk he saw a “ tolerably large hop-garden.” The
proprietor informed him, that three or four years be¬
fore there had been 10 acres of hops in the parish
(Blowfield) where he resided; which was more than
could be collected in all the rest of the county ; but at
that time there were not above five ; and the culture
was daily declining, as the crops, owing to the low
price of the commodity, did not defray the expence.
From all this it appears, that hops are perhaps the
most uncertain and precarious crop on which the hus¬
bandman can bestow his labour. Mr Young is of opi¬
nion, that some improvement in the culture is necessa¬
ry ; but he does not mention any, excepting that of
planting them in espaliers. This method was recom¬
mended both by Mr Rogers and Mr Potter above
mentioned. The former took the hint from observing,
that a plant which had been blown down, and after¬
wards shot out horizontally, always produced a great¬
er quantity than those which grew upright. He also
remarks, that hops which are late picked carry more
next year than such as are picked early ; for which
reason he recommends the late picking. The only rea¬
son for picking early is, that the hops appear much more
beautiful than the others.
Sect. VII. Cultivation of Fruit.
In Herefordshire and Gloucestershire the cultivation
of fruit for the purpose of making a liquor from the
juice, forms a principal part of their husbandry. In
Devonshire also considerable quantities of this kind of
liquor are made, though much less than in the two 4S$
counties above mentioned. Hvatedfa
The fruits cultivated in Herefordshire and Glouces- jpfereford-|
tershire are, the apple, the pear, and the cherry. From shire and
the two first are made the liquors named cyder and per- GloucesRj
ry ; s^‘re*
2
’art IT. AGRICULTURE.
iltivation Tfj ; but though it is probable that a liquor of some va
490
arieties ofcommon.
i aits eu-
j -ely arti-
ial.
491
arieties
mnot be
ade per¬
cent.
■i Fruits lue might be made from cherries also, it does not ap¬
pear to have ever been attempted. Mr Marshall re¬
marks, that nature has furnished only one species of
pears and apples, m'%. the common crab of the woods
and hedges, and the wild pear, which is likewise pretty
The varieties of these fruits are entirely ar¬
tificial, being produced not by seed, but by a certain
mode of culture j whence it is the business of those
who wish to improve fruit, therefore, to catch at supe¬
rior accidental varieties j and having raised them by
cultivation to the highest perfection of which they are
capable, to keep them in that state by artificial pro¬
pagation. Mr Marshall, however, observes that it is
impossible to make varieties of fruit altogether perma¬
nent, though their duration depends much upon ma¬
nagement. “ A time arrives fsays he) when they can
no longer be propagated with success. All the old
fruits which raised the fame of the liquors of this coun¬
try are now lost, or so far on the decline as to be deem¬
ed irrecoverable. The red streak is given up 5 the ce¬
lebrated stir-apple is going off', and the squash pear,
which has probably furnished this country with more
champaign than was ever imported into it, can no longer
be got to flourish : the stocks canker, and are unproduc¬
tive. In Yorkshire similar circumstances have taken
place : several old fruits which were productive within
my own recollection are lost 5 the stocks cankered, and
the trees would no longer come to bear.”
Our author controverts the common notion among
orchard-men, that the decline of the old fruits is owing
to a want of fresh grafts from abroad, particularly from
Normandy, from whence it is supposed that apples
were originally imported into this country. Mr Mar¬
shall, however, thinks, that these original kinds have
been Jong since lost, and that the numerous varieties
of which we are now possessed were raised from seed
in this country. He also informs us, that at Ledbury he
was shown a Normandy apple tree, which, with many
others of the same kind, had been imported immedi¬
ately from France. He found it, however, to be no
other than the bitter-sweet, which he had seen growing
as a neglected wilding in an English hedge.
The process of raising new varieties of apples, accord¬
ing to Mr Marshall, is simple and easy. ‘‘ Select (says
Ictions for I,e) among the native species individuals of the highest
flavour; sow the seeds in a highly enriched seed-bed.
When new varieties, or the improvement of old ones,
are the objects, it may perhaps be eligible to use a
frame or stove j but where the preservation of the ordi¬
nary varieties only is wanted, an oi’dinary loamy soil
will be sufficient. At any rate, it ought to be perfectly
clean at least from root weeds, and should be double dug
from a foot to 18 inches deep. The surface being le¬
velled and raked fine, the seeds ought to be scattered
on about an inch asunder, and covered about half an inch
deep with some of the finest mould previously raked off
the bed for that purpose. During summer the young-
plants should be kept perfectly free from weeds, and
may be taken up for transplantation the ensuing winter ;
or if not very thick in the seed-bed, they may remain in
it till the second winter,
The nursery ground ought also to be enriched, and
double dug to the depth of 14 inches at least j though
18 or 20 are preferable. The seedling plants ought to
49*
r Mar-
all’s di-
‘neties of •
lit.
, 49.3
the
isery
ound.
479
be sorted agreeably to the strength of their roots, that Cultivation,
they may rise evenly together. The tap or downward 0f Fruit,
roots should be taken off, and the longer side rootlets —J.
shortened. The young trees should then he planted in
rows three feet asunder, and from 15 to 18 inches di¬
stant in the rows j taking care not to cramp the roots,
but to lead them evenly and horizontally among the
mould. II they be intended merely for stocks to be
grafted, they may remain in this situation until they
be large enough to be planted out; though, in strict
management, they ought to be re-transplanted two
years before their being transferred into the orchard,
“ in fresh but unmanured double-dug ground, a quin¬
cunx four feet apart every way.” In this second trans¬
plantation, as well as in the first, the branches of the
root ought not to be left too long, but to be shortened in
such a manner as to induce them to form a globular
root, sufficiently small to be removed with the plant j
yet sufficiently large to give it firmness and vigour in.
the plantation.
Having proceeded in this manner with the seed-bed, Method of
our author gives the following directions : “ Select choosing
from among the seedlings the plants whose wood an(l lh« plants,
leaves wear the most apple-like appearance. Transplant
these into a rich deep soil in a genial situation, letting
them remain in this nursery until they begin to bear.
With the seeds of the fairest, richest, and best-flavour¬
ed fruit repeat this process *, and at the same time, or
in due season, engraft the wood which produced this
fruit on that of the richest, sweetest, best-flavoured
apple j repeating this operation, and transferring the
subject under improvement from one tree and sort to
another, as ifichness, flavour, or firmness, may require ;
continuing this double mode of improvement until the
desired fruit be obtained. There has no doubt been a
period when the improvement of the apple and pear
was attended to in this country ; and should not the
same spirit of improvement revive, it is probable that
the country will, in a course of years, be left desti¬
tute of valuable kinds of these two species of fruit j
which, though they may in some degree be deemed ob¬
jects of luxury, long custom seems to have ranked
among the necessaries of life.”
In the fourth volume of Bath Papers, Mr Grimwood Mr Grim--
supposes the degeneracy of apples to be rather imagi- wood’s; opi¬
nary than real. He says, that the evil complained °f oion oJ^lc
“ is not a real decline in the quality of the fruit, but ot- applet
in the tree j owing either to want of health, the season,
soil, mode of planting, or the stock they are grafted on
being too often raised from the seed of apples in the
same place or country. I have not a doubt in my own
mind, but that the trees which are grafted on the stocks
raised from the apple pips are more tender than those
grafted on the real crab-stock j and the seasons in this
country have, for many years past, been unfavourable
for fruits, which add much to the supposed degeneracy
of the apple. It is my opinion, that if the planters of
orchards would procure the trees grafted on real crab-
stocks from a distant country, they would find their
account in so doing much overbalance the extra ex¬
pence of charge and carriage. . 4g<y
In the same volume, Mr Edmund Gillingwater as-MrGiIJing-
signs as a reason for the degeneracy of apples, the water's oju- .
mixture of various farina, from the orchards being
too near each other. In consequence of this notion*
he
4S0
CuItiTation
of Fruit.
497
Mr Samu¬
el’s opinion
of the me¬
thod of re¬
covering
the best
fruit.
AGRICULTURE.
49S
Cultivation,
&c. of fruit
trees.
499
Method of
managing
the ground
•f orchards
in Here¬
fordshire
and Glou¬
cestershire.
be also thinks that the old and best kinds of apple trees
are not lost, but only corrupted from being planted too
near bad neighbours : “ Remove them (says he) to a
situation where they are not exposed to this inconveni¬
ence, and they will immediately recover their former
excellency.” This theory, however, is not supported
by a single experiment.
In this volume also Mr Richard Samuel expresses his
concern at the “ present neglect of orchards, where the
old trees are decaying, without proper provision being
made for the succeeding age : for if a farmer plants
fresh trees (which does not frequently happen), there
is seldom any care taken to propagate the better sorts,
as his grafts are usually taken promiscuously from any
ordinary kind, most easily procured in the neighbour¬
hood.” His remedy is to collect grafts from the best,
trees j by which means he supposes that the superior
kinds of fruit would soon be recovered. To a care of
this kind he attributes the superiority of the fruit
in the neighbourhood of great towns to that in other
places.
With regard to the method of cultivating fruit trees,
it is only necessary to add, that while they remain
in the nursery, the intervals between them may be oc¬
cupied by such kitchen-stuff as will not crowd or
overshadow the plants ; keeping the rows in the mean
time perfectly free from weeds. In pruning them, the
leader should be particularly attended to. If they shoot
double, the weaker of the contending branches should
be taken off; but if the leader be lost, and not easily
recoverable, the plant should be cut down to within a
hand’s breadth of the soil, and a fresh stem trained.
The undermost boughs should be taken off by degrees,
going over the plants every winter; but taking care to
preserve heads of sufficient magnitude not to draw7 the
stems up too tall, which would make them feeble in the
lower part. The stems in Herefordshire are trained to
six feet high ; but our author prefers seven, or even
half a rod in height. A tall-stemmed tree is much less
injurious to what grows below it than a low'-headed
one, which is itself in danger of being hurt, at the same
time that it hurts the crop under it. The thickness of
the stem ought to be in proportion to its height ; for
which reason a tall stock ought to remain longer in
the nursery than a low one. The usual size at which
they are planted out in Herefordshire is from four to
six inches girt at three feet high ; which size, with pro¬
per management, they will reach in seven or eight
years. The price of these stocks in Herefordshire is
is. 6d. each. Our author met with one instance of
crahstocks being gathered in the wmods with a good
prospect of success.
In Herefordshire it is common to have the ground
of the orchards in tillage, and in Gloucestershire in
grass; which Mr Marshall supposes to be owing to the
difference betwixt the soil of the two counties ; that
of Herefordshire being generally arable, and Glouces¬
ter grass land. Trees, however, are vefy destructive,
not only to a crop of corn, but to clover and turnips ;
though tillage is favourable to fruit trees, in general,
especially when young. In grass grounds their pro¬
gress is comparatively slow, for want of the earth being
stirred about them, and by being injured by the cattle,
especially when low-headed and drooping. After they
begin to bear, cattle ought by all means to be kept
Practice,
away from them, as they not only destroy all the fruit
within their reach, hut the fruit itself is dangerous to of fruit,
the cattle, being apt to stick in their throats and choke -y—
them. These inconveniences may be avoided, by eat¬
ing the fruit grounds bare before the gathering si ason,
and keeping the houghs out of the way of the cattle :
but Mr Marshall is of opinion, that it is wrong to plant
orchards in grass land. “ Let them (says he) lay their
old orchards to grass ; and if they plant; break up their
young orchards to arable. This will be changing the
course of husbandry, and be at once beneficial to the
land and the trees. 50o
Our author complains very much of the indolent and Indolence
careless method in which the Herefordshire and Glou-the far-
cestershire farmers manage their orchards. The natu-"?ersin
. . ..... 0 ,. N * 1 these paife
rat enemies oi fruit trees (he says) are, 1. A redun-conip|a;nC(j
dancy of wood. 2. The misletoe. 3. Moss. 4. Spring of.
frosts. 5. Blights. 6. Insects. 7. An excess of fruit.
8. Old age. . . . 5»i
1. A redundancy of wood is prejudicial, by reason Excess of
of the barren branches depriving those which bear fruit wo°d hovr
of the nourishment which ought to belong to them.re,ae^‘e^*
A multitude of branches also give the wind such an
additional power over the tree, that it :s in perpetual
danger of being overthrown by them : trees are like¬
wise thus injured by the damps and want of circulation
of air, so that only the outer branches are capable of
bringing fruit to maturity. “ It is no uncommon sight
(says he) to see trees in this district, with two or three
tires of boughs pressing down hard upon one another,
tvith their twigs so intimately interwoven, that even
when the leaves are off, a small bird can scarcely creep
in among them. ^
2. The misletoe in this country is a great enemy to Mirietoe
the apple tree. It is easily pulled out with hooks in how de-
frosty weather, when, being brittle, it readily breaks offstr°.ve(h
from the branches. It likewise may be applied to a
profitable purpose, sheep being as fond of it as of ivy.
3. Moss can only be got the better of by industry in moss of
clearing the trees of it; and in Kent there are people froit tree*,
who make it their profession to do so. ^
4. Spring-frosts, especially when they suddenly suc-Spring-
ceed rain, are great enemies to fruit trees; dry frosts frosts,
only keep back the blossoms for some time. Art can
give no farther assistance in this case than to keep the
trees in a healthy and vigorous state, so as to enable them
to throw out a strength of bud and blossom ; and by
keeping them thin of wood, to give them an opportu¬
nity of drying quickly before the frost set in.
5. Blight is a term, as applied to fruit trees, which mights a*
Mr Marshall thinks is not understood. Two bearinguncertam
years, he remarks, seldom come togetiier; and he is term.
of opinion, that it is the mere exhausting of the trees
by the quantity of fruit which they have carried one
year, that prevents them from bearing any the next.
The only thing, therefore, that can be done in this case
is, to keep the trees in as healthy and vigorous a state
as possible.
6. Insects destroy not only the blossoms and leaves, Method
but some of them also the fruit, especially pears. In proposed 0:
the year 1783 much fruit was destroyed by Wasps, destroymi;
Mr Marshall advises to set a price Upon the femaleWas^
wasps in the spring ; by which these mischievous in¬
sects would perhaps be exterminated, or at least greatly
lessened.
7. Au
Part II. A G B I C U L T U R E.
An ^excess of ^fruit stmts the growth of young likely to deter people from making
481
509
tr Mar-
Sail’s ob-
srvation on ment
lie culture
f fruit
•ees.
trees, and renders all in general barren for two or three
years j while in many eases the branches are broken off
by the weight of the fruit; and in one case Mr Mar-
■£iiSQffnljt, shall mentions, that an entire tree had sunk under its
burden. To prevent as much as possible the bad effects
of an excess of fruit, Mr Marshall recommends “ to
graft in the boughs,” and when fully grown, to thin the
bearing branches j thus endeavouring, like the gardener,
<:c3 *° £row fruit every year.”
Juration of 8- Though it is impossible to prevent the effects of
ruit trees old age, yet by proper management the natural life of
uVlien d ^rees may considerably protracted. The most
° ea' eligible method is to graft stocks of the native crab in
the boughs. The decline of the tree is preceded by a
gradual decline of fruitfulness, which takes place long
before the tree manifests any sign of decay. During
this decline of fruitfulness, there is a certain period
when the produce of a tree will no longer pay for the
ground it occupies ; and beyond this period it ought
by no means to be allowed to stand. In the Vale of
Gloucester, however, our author saw an instance of
some healthy bearing apple trees, which then had the
second tops to the same stems. The former tops hav¬
ing been worn out, were cut off, and the stumps saw-
grafted. Our author observes, that the pear tree is
much longer lived than the apple, and ought never to
be planted in the same ground. He concludes with
the following general observation : “ Thus considering
fruit trees as a crop in husbandry, the general manage-
appears to be this : Plant upon a recently bro¬
ken-up worn-out sward. Keep the soil under a state
of arable management, until the trees be well grown:
then lay it down to grass, and let it remain in sward
until the trees be removed, and their roots be decayed;
when it will again require a course of arable manage¬
ment.”
Sect. VIII. Of Timber Trees.
The importance and value of these are so well known
that it is superfluous to say any thing on that subject
at present: notwithstanding this acknowledged value,
however, the growth of timber is so slow, and the re¬
turns for planting so distant, that it is generally sup¬
posed for a long time to be a positive loss, or at least
to be attended with no profit. This matter, however,
when properly considered, will appear in another light.
There are four distinct species of woodlands j viz.
Woods, timber groves, coppices, and woody wastes.
The woods are a collection of timber trees and under-
oodlands. V/00(J j t!le timber groves contain timber trees without
any underwood ; and the coppices are collections of
underwood alone. All these turn out to advantage
sooner or later, according to the quick or slow growth
of the trees, and the situation of the place with respect
to certain local advantages. Thus in some places un¬
derwood is of great consequence, as for rails, hoops,
stakes, fuel, &c. 5 and by reason of the quickness of its
,n growth it may be accounted the most profitable of all
that plan-plantations. An osier-bed will yield a return of pro*
bon will fit the second or third year, and a coppice in 15
or 20 years 5 while a plantation of oaks will not arrive
at perfection in less than a century. This last period
is so long, that it may not unreasonably be supposed
Vol. I. Part II. t
51&
lifFerent
inds of
Timber
Trees.
onest
iiig in a
turn of
ofit. .
plantations of
this kind, as few are willing to take any trouble for
what they are never to see in perfection. It must be
remembered, however, that though the trees them¬
selves do not come to perfection in a shorter time, the
value of the ground will always increase in proportion
to their age. Thus, says one author upon this sub-Advanta-
ject, “ we have some knowledge of a gentleman nowges
living, who during his lifetime has made plantations, p'ailting‘
which in all probability will be worth to his son as
much as his whole estate, handsome as it is. Supposing
that those plantations have been made 50 or 60 years,
and that in the course of 20 or 30 more they will be
worth 50,000!.; may we not say, that at present they
are worth some 20,000!. or 30,000!. ? Mr Pavier,
in the 4th volume of Bath Papers, computes the value
of 50 acres of oak timber in 1Q0 years to be I2,iool.
which is nearly 50s. annually per acre : and if we con¬
sider that this is continually accumulating, without any
of that expenee or risk to which annual crops are sub¬
ject, it is probable that timber planting may be ac¬
counted one of the most profitable articles in husbandry.
Evelyn calculates the profit of 1000 acres of oak land,
in 150 years, at no less than 670,000!.; but this is
most probably an exaggeration. At any rate, however,
it would be improper to occupy, especially with timber
of such slow growth, the grounds which either in grass
or corn can repay the trouble of cultivation with a
good annual crop. 5I.
In the fourth volume of the Bath Papers, Mr Wag-Planting
stalfe recommends planting as an auxiliary to cultiva- meliorates
tion. He brings an instance of the success of Sir Wil-1*16 S0‘I“
liam Jerringham, who made trial of “ the most unpro¬
mising ground perhaps that any successful planter has
hitherto attempted.” His method was to plant beech
trees at proper distances among Scotch firs, upon 0-
therwise barren heaths. “ These trees (says Mr Wag-
staffe), in a soil perhaps without clay or loam, with the
heathy sod trenched into its broken strata of sand or
gravel, under the protection of the firs, have laid hold,
though slowly, of the soil; and accelerated by the su¬
perior growth of the firs, have proportionally risen,
until they wanted an enlargement of space for growth,
when the firs were cut down.” He next proceeds to
observe, that when the firs are felled, their roots decay
in the ground ; and thus furnish by that decay a new
support to the soil on which the beeches grow : by
which means the latter receive an additional vigour, as
well as an enlargement of space and freer air; the firs
themselves, though cut down before they arrived at
their full growth, being also applicable to many valu¬
able purposes.
In the sixth volume of Annals of Agriculture, we Cujt^^ of
find the culture of trees recommended by Mr Harries ; timbertreeff
and he informs us, that the larch is the quickest grower recommen-
and the most valuable of all the resinous timber trees ; ^
but unless there be pretty good room allowed for the^arnc,>*
branches to stretch out on the lower part of the trunk,
it will not arrive at any considerable size ; and this ob¬
servation, he says, holds good of all pyramidal trees.
Scotch firs may be planted between them, and pulled
out after they begin to obstruct the growth of the larch.
Some of these larches he had seen planted about 30
years before, which, at 5 feet distance from the ground,
measured from 4 feet to 5 feet 6 inches in circumfer*
3 P ence.
432
AGRICULTURE.
Timber
Trees.
5T5 r
Increase of
#ak trees.
ence. The most barren grounds, he says, would an¬
swer for these trees, but better soil is required for the.
oaks. In this paper he takes notice of the leaves of
one of liis plantations of oaks having been almost en¬
tirely destroyed by insects j in consequence of which they
did not increase in bulk as usual : but another which
had nearly escaped these ravages, increased at an ave¬
rage l inch in circumference. “ A tree 4 feet round
(says he), that has timber 20 feet in length, gains by
this growth a solid foot of timber annually, worth one
shilling at least, and pays 5 per cent, for standing. It
increases more as the tree gets from 5 to 6 feet round.
E have a reasonable hope to infer from my inquiry, that
I have in my groves 3000 oaks that pay me one shilling
each per annum, or 150I. a-year. My poplars have
gained in circumference near two inches, and a Wor¬
cester and witch elm as much. I have lately been in¬
formed, that the smooth cut of a holly tree, that mea¬
sures 20 inches and upwards round, is worth to the ca¬
binet-makers 2s. 6d. per foot.
The following table shows the increase of trees in
21 years from their first planting. It was taken from
the marquis of Lansdowne’s plantation, begun in the
year 1765, and the calculation made on the 15th of
July 1786. It is about six acres in extent; the soil
plantation. partjy '
a swampy meadow upon a gravelly bottom.
The measures were taken at 5 feet above the surface
of the ground ; the small firs having been occasionally
drawn for posts and rails, as well as rafters for cottages ;
and when peeled of the bark, will stand well for seven
years.
516
Intreftse of
trees in til#
marquis
of Lans¬
downe’s
Lombardy poplar
Arbeal *
Plane
Acacia
Elm
Chesnut
Weymouth pines
Cluster ditto
Scotch fir
Spruce ditto
Larch
Height in
Feet.
60 to 80
50 to 70
50 to 60
50 to 60
40 to 60
30 to 50
30 to 50
30 to 50
30 to 50
30 to 50
30 to 60
Circumference
in Feet Inch.
4 8
4 6
3 6
2 4
3 6
2 9
2 5
2 <
2
2
3
10
10
517
Of tmder-
wtod, Stc.
From this table it appears, that planting of timber-
trees, where the return can be waited for during the
space of 20 years, will undoubtedly repay the original
profits of planting, as well as the interest of the money
laid out; which is the better worth the attention of a
proprietor of land, as the ground on which they grow
may be supposed good for very little else. From a com¬
parative table of the growth of oak, ash, and elm tim¬
ber, given in the nth volume of the Annals of Agri¬
culture, it appears that the oak is by much the slowest
grower of the three.
With respect to the growth of underwood, which
in some cases is very valuable, it is to be remarked,
that in order to have an annual fall of it, the whole
quantity of ground, whatever its extent may be, ought
to be divided into annual sowings. The exact number
of sowings must he regulated by the uses to which
it is intended to be put. Thus if, as in Surry, stakes,
edders, and hoops are saleable, there ought to be
eight or ten annual sowings; or if, as in Kent, hop-
Timbev
Trees.
Practice.
poles are demanded, 14 or 13 will be required; and
if, as in Yorkshire, rails be wanted, or, as in Glou¬
cestershire, cordwood be most marketable, 18 or 20
sowings will be necessary to produce a succession of
annual falls. Thus the business, by being divided,
will be rendered less burdensome : a certain propor¬
tion being every year to be done, a regular set of hands
will, in proper season, be employed ; and by begin¬
ning upon a small scale, the errors of the first year will
be corrected in the practice of the second, and those
of the second in that of the third. The produce of
the intervals will fall into regular course; and when
the whole is completed, the falls will follow each other
in regular succession. The greatest objection to this
method of sowing woodlands is the extraordinary trou¬
ble in fencing: hut this objection does not hold if the
sowings lie at a distance from one another; on the con¬
trary, if they lie together, or in plots, the entire plot
may be inclosed at once ; and if it contain a number
of sowings, some subdivisions will be necessary, and
the annual sowings of these subdivisions may be fenced
oft with hurdles, or some other temporary contrivance ;
but if the adjoining land he kept under the plough, lit¬
tle temporary fencing will be necessary. It must be
observed, however, that in raising a woodland from
seeds, it is not only necessary to defend the young plants
against cattle and sheep, but against hares and rabbits
also : so that a close fence of some kind is absolutely
necessary.
With regard to the preparation of the ground for
raising timber, it may be observed, that if the soil he
of a stiff clayey nature, it should receive a whole year’s
fallow as for wheat; if light, a crop of turnips may
be taken ; hut at all events it must be made perfectly
clean before the tree seeds be sown, particulaily from
perennial root weeds ; as, after the seeds are sown,
the opportunity of performing this necessary business
is in a great measure lost. If the situation he moist,
the soil should be gathered into wide lands, sufficiently
round to let the water run off from the surface, but
not high. The time of sowing is either the month of
October or March; and the method as follows : “ The
land being in fine order, and the season favourable, the sowing,
whole should be sown with corn or pulse adapted to the
season of sowing : if in autumn, wheat or rye may be
the crop; but if in spring, beans or oats. Which¬
ever of these three species be adopted, the quantity of
seed ought to be less than usual, in order to give a
free admission of air, and prevent the crop from load¬
ing. The sowing of the grain being completed, that
of the tree-seeds . must be immediately set about.
These are to be put in drills across the land : acorns
and nuts should be dibbled in, but keys and berries scat¬
tered in trenches or drills drawn with the corner of a
hoe, in the manner that gardeners sow their pease.
The distance might he a quarter of a statute rod, or
four feet and one inch and a half. A land-chain should
he used in setting out the drills, as not being liable to be
lengthened or shortened by the weather. It is readi¬
ly divided into rods; and the quarters may be easily
marked.
The species of underwood to be sown must be
determined by the consumpt of it in the neighbour¬
hood of the plantation. Thus, if stakes, hoops, &c.
be in request, the oak, hazel, and ash, are esteemed
as
5**
Method of
’art II. AGRICULTURE, 4S:
Timber as underwood- Where charcoal is wanted for iron
Trees, forges, beech is the prevailing underwood. The oak,
box, birch, &c. are all in request in different countries,
and the choice must be determined by the prevailing
demand. As the keys of the ash sometimes lie two
or even three years in the ground, it will be proper to
have the places where they are sown distinguished by
some particular marks, to prevent them from being
disturbed by the plough after harvest: as a few beans
scattered along with them, if the crop be oats ; or oats,
if the crop be beans. The crop should be reaped, not
mown, at harvest time, and be carried off as fast as pos¬
sible. Between harvest and winter, a pair of furrows
should be laid back to back in the middle of each in¬
terval, for meliorating the next year’s crop, and laying
the seedling plants dry; while the stubble of the un¬
ploughed ground on each side of the drills will keep
them warm during the winter. The next year’s crop
may be potatoes, cabbages, turnips, or if the first was
corn, this may be beans ; if the first was beans, this
may be wheat drilled. In the spring of the third year
the drills which rose the first year must be looked over,
and the vacancies filled up from those parts which are
thickest j but the drills of the ash should be let alone
till the fourth year. The whole should afterwards be
looked over from time to time $ and this, with culti¬
vating the intervals, and keeping the drills free from
weeds, will be all that is necessary until the tops of the
plants begin to interfere.
The crops may be continued for several years $ and
if they only pay for the expences, they will still be of
considerable advantage by keeping the ground stirred,
and preserving the plants from hares and rabbits.
Even after the crops are discontinued, the ground
ought still to be stirred, alternately throwing the
mould to the roots of the plants, and gathering it into
a ridge in the middle of the interval. The best method
of doing this is to split the ground at the approach
of winter in order to throw it up to the trees on both
sides; this will preserve the roots from frost: gather
it again in the spring, which will check the weeds, and
give a fresh supply of air: split again at midsummer,
to preserve the plants from drought: gather, if neces-
sai’y, in autumn, and split as before at the approach
of winter. The spring and midsummer ploughiugs
should be continued as long as a plough can pass be¬
tween the plants.
Whenever the oaks intended for timber are in dan¬
ger of being drawn up too slender for their height, it
will be necessary to cut off all the rest at the height of
about an handbreadth above the ground ; and those
designed to stand must now be planted at about two
rods distant from each other, and as nearly a quin¬
cunx as possible. The second cutting must be deter¬
mined by the demand there is for the underwood $
with only this proviso, that the timber stands be not
too much crowded by it $ for rather than this should
be the case, the coppice should be cut, though the
wood may not have reached its most profitable state.
What is here said of the method of rearing oak trees
in woods, is in a great measure applicable to that of
raising other trees in timber groves. The species most
usually raised in these are the ash, elm, beech, larch,
spruce fir, Weymouth pine, poplar, willow, alder,
chesnut, walnut, and cherry. The three last are used
as substitutes for the oak and beech, and these two for Timber
the mahogany. Tree*,
The following account of the mode of planting that '
was adopted by the earl of Fife, for no less than 550
acres of moorish lands, is worthy of attention. It is v°h lx-
contained in a letter from his lordship to the publisher ,I(^
of the Annals of Agriculture. “Where there are £ari 0f
stones in the moor, I enclose with a stone wall five feet Fife’s plan-
high, coped with two turfs, which costs about i^s.tat>ons'
every Scots chain of 24 ells, and where there are no
stones, which is mostly the case in the moors in the coun¬
ty of Murray, I enclose with a fence of turf, five feet
high, four feet wide at the foundation, and 22 inches at
top, at 4s. the Scots chain. I find those fences answer
as well as the stone, for there are many of them now
above 20 years old, as good as at first. I plant in every
acre about 1200 trees. I used to plant above 3000, but
by experience I find it better not to plant them so thick,
but make them up, if necessary, the third year (espe¬
cially in my plantations in the county of Murray),
where scarcely a tree planted ever fails. The greatest
number of the trees are Scots firs raised by myself,
or purchased at rod. the thousand, planted from the
seed-bed at three years old. I only consider them as
nurses to my other trees, for they are regularly cut out
when they have done their duty as nurses, and are
profitable for fire, and useful in agriculture. I plant
every other species of forest trees intermixed with the
firs. I order different pieces of the moor to be trenched
where the soil is best, and most sheltered, and lay a
little lime and dung on it, and in these places I sow
seeds of trees for nursery. I also plant in beds, year-
old trees of different kinds, taken from my other nur¬
series. I nurse them for three years, and then plant
them all over the plantation : this I find very benefi¬
cial, as they are raised in the same soil. When I am
filling up the plantations, the firs are, for the first time,
cut down j or they are transplanted, being raised with
balls of earth when the moor is wet with rain, which
is very easily done, and they are carried to inclosures
of ten or twelve acres, where, from a desire of forward
woods, I am planting trees more advanced. They are
planted in pits about 40 feet distance, and seldom or
never fail, and answer a second time as nurses.
“ My first care after the inclosure is properly filled
up, is to guard against injury from cattle: a small
allowance given to a few labourers answers that pur¬
pose, and if the fences are properly executed they re¬
quire very little repair. After the plantation is filled
up, the most regular attention must be had to the
weeding of it, and this is carried on over my planta¬
tions of all ages in the most exact manner: I make
roads through all the plantations, which are carried for¬
ward according to the situation, never in a straight
line so as to draw violent winds, and those roads go to
all parts of the plantation j they make agreeable rides
through fine woods, formerly a bleak moor, and an¬
swer not only for filling up, but also for carrying away
the necessary weedings. As I observed before, the va¬
lue and prosperity of the wood depends upon the unre¬
mitted attention in weeding it.
“ I begin to plant in October, and continue till
April. If the weather is frosty and not fit for planting,
all the people are employed in weeding the woods.”
It is proper, however, upon this subject, to remark,
3 P 2 that
484
cattle pro- that the value of plantations of timber trees, as connect-
per to be ed with other branches of agriculture, is not a*little li-
employed. mJted. In a mountainous country, and in bleak moor-
' ish situations, nothing tends more to increase the value
Where °f the soil, than plantations properly distributed. They
plantations give shelter both to the cattle and to the corn crops ;
are eligible atu{ {,y preventing the warmth which is produced by
or other- pr0per manures, and by the germination of vegetables,
from being dissipated, they give effect to all the efforts
of industry. Accordingly, in such situations, planta¬
tions are no sooner reared, than the whole face of the
country around them assumes an improving aspect, and
displays a richer verdure. When suddenly cut down, in
consequence of the necessities of an improvident proprie¬
tor, the reverse of all this occurs. Vegetation is chil¬
led by the piercing blasts which now meet with no re¬
sistance, and the cattle droop from want of shelter j so
that in a few yours the place can scarcely be known.
But the case is very different with regard to a rich and
Practice.
level country that is meant to be cultivated for corn. Cattle pro.
There the effect of numerous plantations, of high trees per to be
and lofty hedge rows, is altogether distressing to the hus- employed,
bandman. It is only in open fields that grain appears v~
well ripened and completely filled. When surrounded
with timber trees, on the contrary, it ripens ill, and is
ill-coloured and unequal. In spring the high shelter
prevents the grounds from drying, and keeps back the
labour. In summer the crop is liable to diseases from
want of air, and is devoured by large flocks of small
birds. In autumn, from want of a free circulation of
air the corn ripens late, and in a weeping climate it can
never be gathered in good condition. In wet seasons it
is utterly ruined. In winter, when the snow is drifting
about, the trees prepare a resting place for large quan¬
tities of it; these frequently remain and stop the spring
work. Add to this, that in a low country even the cattle
are hurt by the swarms of vermine that are bred and come
forth, under the shelter of lofty tress and high fences*
AGRICULTURE.
PART III. OF THE CATTLE PROPER TO BE EMPLOYED IN FARM WORK j REAR¬
ING AND MANAGEMENT OF THEM. OF HOGS, POULTRY, &c. OF THE DAIRY,
MAKING OF FRUIT LIQUORS. OF FENCES.
Sect. I. Of the Cattle proper to be employed.
AS great part of the stock of a husbandman must al¬
ways consist of cattle, and as one of his principal expen-
ces must consist of the maintenance of them, this part of
his business is certainly to be looked upon as extremely
important. The cattle belonging to a farm may be di¬
vided into two classes, viz. such as are intended for
work, and such as are designed for sale. The former
are now principally horses, the oxen formerly employed
being fallen into disuse, though it does not yet certainly
^ i appear that the reasons for the exchange are satisfactory.
Mr Ked- 1° second volume of Bath Papers, we have an ac-
ingtonV count of a comparative experiment of the utility of
experiment horses and oxen in husbandry by Mr Kedington near
on the com-j3ury *n Jn which the preference is decisively
ntiiity^of given to oxen. He informs us, that at the time he be-
horses and gan the experiment (in 1799), he was almost certain
oxen. that there was not an ox worked in the whole county j
finding, however, the expence of horses very great, he
purchased a single pair of oxen, but found much difficulty
in breaking them, as the workmen were so much preju¬
diced against them, that they would not take the pro¬
per pains. At last he met with a labourer who under¬
took the task 5 and the oxen “ soon became as tractable
and as handy, both at ploughing and carting, as any
horses.” On this he determined to part with all his
cart-horses •, and by the time he wrote his letter, which
was in 1781, he had not a single horse, nor any more
than six oxen 5 which inconsiderable number performed
with ease all the work of his farm (consisting of upwards
of IOO aci'es of arable land and 60 of pasture and wood),
besides the statute duty on the highways, timber and
corn carting, harrowing, rolling, and every part of ru¬
ral business. They are constantly shoed ; their harness
is the same as that of horses (excepting the necessary
alterations for difference of size and shape) ; they are
driven with bridles and bits in their mouth*, answer¬
ing to the same words of the ploughman and carter
as horses will do. A single man holds the plough, and
drives a pair of oxen with reins : and our author in¬
forms us, that they will plough an acre of ground in
less than eight hours time j he is of opinion that they
could do it in seven. The intervals of a small planta¬
tion, in which the trees are set in rows ten feet asun¬
der, are ploughed by a single ox with a light plough,
and he is driven by the man who holds it. The oxen
go in a cart either single, or one, two, or three, ac¬
cording to the load. Four oxen will draw 80 bushels
of barley or oats in a waggon with ease j and if good
of their kind, will travel as fast as horses with the same
load. One ox will draw 40 bushels in a light cart,
which our author thinks is the best carriage of any. On
the whole, he prefers oxen to horses for the following
reasons.
1. They are kept at much less expence, never eating Reaion8for
meal or corn of any kind. In winter they are fed preferring
with straw, turnips, carrots, or cabbages ; or instead of oxen to
the three last, they have each a peck of bran per day*lorse®'
while kept constantly at work. In the spring they eat
hay 5 and if working harder than usual at seed-time,
they have bran besides. When the vetches are fit for
mowing, they get them only in the stable. After the
day’s work in summer they have a small bundle of hay,
and stand in the stable till they cool j after which they
are turned into the pasture. Our author is of opinion,
that an ox may be maintained in condition for the
same constant work as a horse, for at least 4I. less an¬
nually.
2. After a horse is seven years old, his value declines
every year; and when lame, blind, or very old, he is
scarce worth any thing j but an ox, in any of these si¬
tuations, may be fatted, and sold for even more than
the first purchase; and will always be fat sooner after
work than before.
3. Oxen are less liable to diseases than horses.
4. Horses are frequently liable to be spoiled by ser-
’ vants
•art III.
little pro- vants riding them without their
ier to be
mployed.
S2^
ifficulty
shoeing
en.
S24
r Mar-
A G R I C U
master’s knowledge,
which is not the case with oxen.
5. A general use of oxen would make beef plentiful,
and consequently all other meat; which would be a na¬
tional benefit.
Mr Kedington concludes his paper with acknow¬
ledging that there is one inconvenience attending the
use of oxen, viz. that it is difficult to shoe them j
though even this, he thinks, is owing rather to the
unskilfulness of the smiths who have not been accustom¬
ed to shoe these animals, than to any real difficulty.
He confines them in a pound while the operation is
performing.
Mr Marshall, in his Rural Economy of the Midland
'nions^* ^'oun*;‘es> sh°ws the advantage of employing oxen in
preference to horses from the mere article of expence,
which, according to his calculation, is enormous on the
part of the horses. He begins with estimating the
number of square miles contained in the kingdom of
England ; and this he supposes to be 30,000 of cul¬
tivated ground. Supposing the work of husbandry to
be done by horses only, and each square mile to em¬
ploy 20 horses, which is about 3 to 100 acres, the
whole number used throughout Britain would be
600,000 j from which deducting one-sixth of the num¬
ber of oxen employed at present, the number of horses
just now employed will be 500,000. Admitting that
each horse works ten years, the number of farm-horses
which die annually are no fewer than 50,000 j each of
which requires full four years keep before he is fit for
work. Horses indeed are broke in at three, some at
two years old, but they are, or ought to be, indulged
in keep and work till they are six ; so that the cost
of rearing and keeping may be laid at full four ordi¬
nary years. For all this consumption of vegetable pro¬
duce he returns not the community a single article of
food, clothing, or commerce j even his skin for eco¬
nomical purposes being barely worth the taking off.
By working horses in the affairs of husbandry, there¬
fore, “ the community is losing annually the amount
of 200,000 years keep of a growing horse j” which at
the low estimate of five pounds a-year, amounts to a
million annually. On the contrary, supposing the bu¬
siness of husbandry to be done solely by cattle, and
admitting that oxen may be fatted with the same ex¬
penditure of vegetable produce as that which old horses
require to fit them for full work, and that instead of
50,000 horses dying, 50,000 oxen, of no more than
52 stone each, are annually slaughtered j it is evident
that a quantity of beef nearly equal to what the city
of London consumes would be annually brought into
the market; or, in other words, 100,000 additional
inhabitants might be supplied with one pound of ani¬
mal food a-day each ; and this without consuming one
additional blade of grass. “ I am far from expecting
(says Mr Marshall), that cattle will, in a short space
of time become the universal beasts of draught in hus¬
bandry 5 nor will I contend, that under the present
cii-cumstances of the island they ought in strict pro¬
priety to be used. But I know that cattle, under
proper management, and kept to a proper age, are
equal to every work of husbandry, in most, if not all
situations: And I am certain, that a much greater
proportion than there is at present might be worked
with considerable advantage, not to the community
5*5
million
initially
1st by
feping
orses.
528
Used in tlm
Cotswoldo
L T U B. E. 485
only, but to the owners and occupiers of lands. If on-Cattle pro-
ly one of the 50,000 carcases now lost annually to the per to be
community could be reclaimed, the saving would be an employed,
object.” ' ^
In Norfolk, our author informs us, that horses are No oxen
the only beasts of labour j and that there is not per-used in
haps one ox worked throughout the whole county. ■^or^°^‘
It is the same in the Vale of Gloucester, though oxen 527
are used in the adjoining counties. Formerly some OUiectio11
oxen were worked in it double ; but they were foundto
to poach the land too much, and were therefore given Gkmccstci.
up. Even when worked single, the same objection is
made : but, says Mr Marshall, “ in this I suspect there
is a spice of obstinacy in the old way 5 a want of a
due portion of the spirit of improvement; a kind of
indolence. It might not perhaps be too severe to say
of the Vale farmers, that they would rather be eaten
up by their horses than step out of the beaten track
to avoid them.” Shoeing oxen with whole shoes, in
our author’^ opinion, might remedy the evil complained
of; “ but if not, let those (says he) who are advo¬
cates for oxen, calculate the comparative difference
in wear and keep, and those who are their enemies
estimate the comparative mischiefs of treading; and thus
decide upon their value as beasts of labour in the Vale.”
In the Cotswold oxen are worked as well as horses ;
but the latter, our author fears, are still in the pro¬
portion of two to one : he has the satisfaction to find,
however, that the former are coming into more gene¬
ral use. They are worked in harness ; the collar and-
harness being used as for horses, not reversed, as in
most cases they are for oxen. “ They appear (says our
author) to be perfectly handy ; and work, either at
plough or cart, in a manner which shows, that although
horses maybe in some cases convenient, and in most cases
pleasurable to the driver, they are by no means ncces-
sary to husbandry. A convenience used in this conn- Moveable
try is a moveable harness-house with a sledge bottom, harness-
which is drawn from place to place as occasion may re- ^ouses’
quire. Thus no labour is lost either by the oxen or
their drivers. ^
In Yorkshire oxen are still used, though in much Why th«
fewer numbers than formerly ; but our author does not use of oxen
imagine this to be any decisive argument against their !s
utility. The Yorkshire plough was formerly of such
an unwieldy construction, that four or six oxen, in
yokes, led by two horses, were absolutely requisite to
draw it; but the improvements in the construction of
the plough have of late been so great, that two horses
are found to be sufficient for the purpose ; so that as
Yorkshire has all along been famous for its breed of
horses, we are not to wonder at the present disuse of
oxen. Even in carriages they are now much disused•
but Mr Marshall assigns as a reason for this, that the
roads were formerly deep in winter, and soft to the
hoof in summer ; but now they are universally a cause¬
way of hard limestones, which hurt the feet of oxen
even when shod. Thus it even appears matter of sur¬
prise to our author that so many oxen are employed
in this county; and the employment of them at all is
to him a convincing argument of their utility as beasts
of draught. The timber carriers still continue to use
them, even though their employment be solely upon
the road. They find them not only able to stand
working every day, provided their feet do not fail them,,
bul.c
4-86
Cattle pro- but to bear long hours better than horses going in the
per to be same pasture. An ox in a good pasture soon tills his
employed, belly, and lies down to rest j but a horse can scarce
v satisfy his hunger in a short summer’s night. Oxen are
Superiority a^so considered as much superior at a difficult pull to
of oxen to horses 5 but this he is willing to suppose arises from
horses. their using half-bred hunters in Yorkshire, and not the
true breed of cart horses. “ But what (says he) are
thorough-bred cart horses ? Why, a species of strong,
heavy, sluggish animals, adapted solely to the purpose
of draught 5 and according to the present law of the
country, cannot, without an annual expence, which
nobody bestows upon them, be used for any other pur¬
pose. This species of beasts of draught cost at four
years old from 20I. to 30I. They will, with ex¬
travagant keep, extraordinary care and attendance,
and much good luck, continue to labour eight or ten
years j and may then generally be sold for five shil¬
lings a head. If we had no other species of animals
adapted to the purposes of draught in the island, cart
horses would be very valuable, they being much su¬
perior to the breed of saddle horses for the purpose of
draught. But it appears evident, that were only a
small share of the attention paid to the breeding of
draught oxen which is now bestowed on the breeding
of cart horses, animals equally powerful, more active,
less costly, equally adapted to the purposes of husban¬
dry if harnessed with equal judgment, less expensive in
keep and attendance, much more durable, and infi¬
nitely more valuable after they have finished their la¬
bours, might be produced. A steer, like a colt, ought
to be familiarized to harness at two or three years old,
but should never be subjected to hard labour until he
be five years old j from which age until he be 15 or
perhaps 20, he may be considered as in his prime as a
beast of draught. An ox which I worked several years
in Surry, might at 17 or 18 years of age have chal¬
lenged for strength, agility, and sagacity, the best bred
53* horse in the kingdom.
Horses are Notwithstanding all that has been said, however,
everywhere ancl written about the superiority of oxen to horses,
over oxeiu ^a^er are still coming into more general use, espe¬
cially in proportion as the breed of horses improves j
and we may add, in proportion as the state of cultiva¬
tion in any part of the country improves. The reason
is obvious. The horse is a more active animal than
the ox, and can be turned with greater readiness from
one kind of work to another. His hoof is less readily
injured by the hardness of good roads 5 and for the use
of the plough upon a well ordered farm, there is no
comparison between the two kinds of animals. Where
land is once brought into a proper state of tillage, it is
easily turned over 5 and the value of the animal em¬
ployed in doing so consists not so much in the posses¬
sion of great strength as in the activity which he exerts
in going over a great extent of ground in a short time.
In this last respect a good breed of horses so far sur¬
passes every kind of oxen yet known in this country,
that we suspect much the horse will still continue to be
preferred by enterprising husbandmen.
With regard to the loss which the public is suppo¬
sed to sustain by preferring horses to oxen, that point
has of late been rendered, to say no more, extremely
doubtful. In the Agricultural Survey of the county
of Northumberland, we have the following compara-
AGRICULTURE. Practice,
tive statement between horses and oxen, for the pur- Cattle pr(!,.
pose of the draught:—“ By way of preliminary, it will per to be
be necessary to admit as data, that a horse which eats cinpl«yed.
70 bushels of oats per year, will not consume of other ^ J
food so much as an ox that gets no corn ; but in the Calcula-
following estimate we shall allow horses to eat as muchtionsin fa.
as oxen, as the difference is not yet sufficiently ascer- vour tl*»
tained. 'hose.
“ That the oxen are yoked at three years old, and
are worked till six, and for the first year require eight
to do the work of two horses j but after having been
worked a year, and become tractable and stronger, six
are equal to two horses, either by being yoked three at
a time, or two, and driven by the holder with cords;
of course, the expence of a driver may be estimated to
be saved for one half the year.
“ That the expences of a ploughman, the plough,
and other articles that are the same in both teams, need
not be taken into the account.
“ And that oxen to work regularly'through the year,
cannot work more than half a day at a time.”
Expences of an Ox per annum.
Summering.-—Grass 2 acres at 20s. per
acre L. 2 o c
Wintering.-—On straw and tur¬
nips L. 2 o o
But if on hay 400
The average is
L. 5 o o
Interest at 5 per cent, for price of the ox 0100
Harness, shoeing, &c.
0
Deduct for the increased value of an ox
for I year
650
100
S S 0
Gives the expence per annum of an ox for
the team
And the expence of six oxen ^*31 to o
To which must be added the expence of a
3 10 o
driver for half a year
Total expence of a team of 6 oxen
An Eight-Ox team.
The expence of an ox per annum being
That of eight will be
To which add the expence of a driver
l-35
L*5 5
42 o o
800
Gives the expence per annum of an 1 r
eight-ox team 3 '5°
Therefore the expence of a team of oxen
for the first year will be - L. 50 o 0
Ditto the second year - - 35 0 0
Ditto the third year - - 35 0 0 -
Divided by
3)120
Part III.
attle pro-
i per to bo Divided by
employed.
AGE
Brought over,
3)120
Gives the average expence per annum 1 T
of an ox team from 3 to 6 years oldj J'4°
Expence of a Horse per annum.
Summering.—Grass 2 acres at 2cs. per
acre - - L.2
Wintering.—Straw 13 weeks at pd. per
week - _ o
Hay 16 ditto l£ tons at 2l. 3
Corn (for a year) 70 bushels of oats at 2s. 7
Shoeing and harness - - 1
Annuity to pay off 25I. in 16 years, the
purchase value of the horse at four years
old - 2
Expence of a horse per annum
Expence of a two-horse team
L.15
L.31
“ If a three-horse team be used, the ac¬
count will stand thus :
The expence of a horse per annum being L.15
That of three will be - -
To which add the expence of a driver
47
8
I C U L T U R E. 4.87
employed in supporting those animals, be used in the Different
o o most profitable mode to the community, as well as to Kinds of
  the occupier. Horses.
o o . <£ ^he latter, the first question for consideration
is, whether eight oxen used in the team or in grazing
  will pay him the most money ?
“ Suppose eight oxen, at three years old, were put
to the plough, and plough six acres per week, which, at
3s. 4d. per acre, is 20s. j and if they work forty-eight
o o weeks in a year, their whole earnings (after deducting
61. for expences of harness, shoeing, &c.) will be 421.5
10 o but if they plough only five acres per week (which is
o o probably nearer the truth), then their whole earnings
o o will be only 34I.
OO “ The same oxen put to graze at the same money
should improve in value 5I. 5s. each in the first case, and
4I. 5s. in the latter 5 but we are inclined to believe there
" “ are few situations, if the cattle are of a good quick¬
feeding kind, where they would not pay considerably
more.
“ In respect to the community, the account will be
nearly as follows :
“ From the above statements, we find that an ox for
summering and wintering requires ^ acres
Therefore a six-ox team will require 21 ditto
And two horses for grass and hay per annum
require - - . 7 ditto
For corn and straw - - 4 ditto
Eand necessary for keeping two horses per
annum - - - " 11 ditto
J5
10
J5
Gives the expence of a three-horse team E.55 5 o
** If the comparison be made with the horse team of
many of the midland counties, where they use five
horses yoked one before another in one plough, the ac¬
count will stand thus :
The expence of one horse per annum be¬
ing - - - L.15 15 o
5
That of five will be - - - 78 15 o
To which add the expence of a man to drive 18 o o
To expence of a team of five horses 7
will be jl’
ditto of 3 ditto
ditto of 2 ditto
ditto of 8 oxen
T.he average expence of an ox-team from
three to six years old, that will do the
same quantity of work as two horses
L.96 15 o
55
31
50
5
10
o
40 o
“ The conclusions to be drawn from the above state¬
ment are so obvious as to need little elucidation. But
we cannot help remarking, how strong the force of pre¬
judice must be, to continue the use of five horses, and
heavy, clumsy, unwieldy wheel ploughs, where a single
swing plough and two horses yoked double, and driven
by the holder, would do the same quantity of work,
equally well and at one half of the expence.”
“ But before any proper conclusion can be drawn,
whether ox teams or horse are the most eligible, it will
be necessary to consider, whether the quantity of land
3.
The difference in the quantity of land re¬
quired for a team of oxen more than horses 10 ditto.
“ Hence it appears, that a team of six oxen requires
ten acres more land to maintain them, than a team of
two horses, which will do the same work ; and of course
the produce which might be derived from these ten
acres is lost to the community. Suppose it be one half f
in grass, the other half in tillage, then we shall have
“ 5 Acres of clover or grass,
14 Ditto of oats,
i-f Ditto of turnips or fallow,
i-f- Ditto of wheat.
“It would then send to market yearly, at the lowest
computation,
74 cwt. of beef,
8 quarters of oats,
And 5 ditto of wheat.
“ From this view of the subj'ect, it appears that if
oxen were universally used for the draught, in the room
of horses, there would be a considerable defalcation, in
the supply of the markets, both in corn and animal food.
And the loss to the farmer would be the profit derived
from the produce ; which, by the usual mode of allow¬
ing one-third for the farmer’s profit, would in this case
be about icl.”
Sect. II. Of the different kinds of Horses, and the
Method of Breeding, Rearing, and Feeding them.
!“ 'I*
The midland counties of England have for some Account of ’
time been celebrated on account of their breed of the the black
black cart-horse ; though Mr Marshall is of opinion thatcart*horse»
this kind are unprofitable as beasts of draught in hus¬
bandry*
A G R I C U L T U B E.
Practice,
, 535
Horses be¬
longing
Mr Bake-
well descri
fced-
.53^
Prices of
stallions.
53?
Mr Mar¬
shall’s ob¬
servations
on breed¬
ing horses,
bandry. The present improvement in the breed took
its rise from six Zealand mares sent over by the late
Lord Chesterfield during his embassy at the Hague.
These mares being lodged at his lordship’s seat at Bret-
by in Derbyshire, the breed of horses thus became
improved in that county, and for some time it took
the lead for the species of these animals. As the
improved breed passed into Leicestershire, however,
through some unknown circumstances, it became still
more improved, and Leicester has for some time taken
the lead. It is now found, however, that the very
large horses formerly bred,in this district are much less
useful than such as are of a smaller size. Mr Marshall
describes in magnificent terms one of these large horses,
a stallion belonging to Mr Bakewell named K (qJ,
which, he says, was the handsomest horse he ever saw.
“ He was (says he) the fancied war-horse of the
German painters } who, in the luxuriance of imagi¬
nation, never perhaps excelled the natural grandeur of
this horse. A man of moderate size seemed to shrink
behind his fore end, which rose so perfectly upright,
his ears stood (as Mr Bakewell says every horse’s ears
ought to stand) perpendicularly over his fore-feet. It
may be said, Avith little latitude, that in grandeur and
symmetry of form, viewed as a picturable object, he
exceeded as far the horse which this superior breeder
bad the honour of showing to his Majesty, and which
was aftenvards shown publicly at London, as that horse
does the meanest of the breed.” A more useful horse,
bred also by Mr Bakewell, however, is described as
having a “ thick carcase, his back short and straight,
and his legs short and clean j as strong as an ox, yet
active as a poney j equally suitable for a cart or a light¬
er carriage.”
The stallions in this county are bred either by farm¬
ers or by persons whose business it is to breed them,
and who therefore have the name of breeders. These
last either cover with themselves, or let them out to
others for the season, or sell them altogether to stal¬
lion-men who travel about with them to different
places. The prices given for them are from 50 to
200 guineas by purchase ; from 40 to 80 or a hun¬
dred by the season •, or from half a guinea to two gui¬
neas by the mare. The mares are mostly kept by the
farmers, and are worked until near the times of foal¬
ing, and moderately afterwards while they suckle: the
best time for foaling is supposed to be the month of
March or April *, and the time of weaning that of
November.—“ The price of foals (says Mr Marshall),
for the last ten years, has been from five to ten pounds
or guineas j for yearlings, 10 to 15 or 205 for two-
year olds, 15 to or 30; for six-year olds, from 25
to 40 guineas.”—Our author acknowledges that this
breed of horses, considered abstractedly in the light in
which they appear here, are evidently a profitable spe¬
cies of live stock, and as far as there is a market for
six-years old horses of this breed, it is profitable to
agriculture. But (says he) viewing the business of
agriculture in general, not one occupier in ten can
partake of the profit j and being kept in agriculture
after they have reached that profitable age, they be¬
come indisputably one of its heaviest burdens. For be- Different
sides a cessation of improvement of four or five guineas Kinds of
a-year, a decline in value of as much yearly takes place. i Horse».
Even the brood-mares, after they have passed that age, 'r~'J
may, unless they be of a very superior quality, be deem¬
ed unprofitable to the farmer.”
Our author complains that the ancient breed of Nor-js-orfojk
folk horses is almost entirely worn out. They were breed de.
small, brown-muzzled, and light boned ; but they scribed,
could endure very heavy work with little food ; two
of them were found quite equal to the plough in the
soil of that county, which is not deep. The present
breed is produced by a cross with the large one of Lin-
colnshire and Leicestershire already mentioned. He Suffolk and
approves of the Suffolk breed, which (he says) are a Gloucester
— •- — - • ..... . breeds.
“ half-horse half-hog race of animals, but better adapt¬
ed to the Norfolk husbandry than the Leicestershire
breed: their principal fault, in his opinion, is a flatness
of the rib.—In the Vale of Gloucester most farmers rear
their own plough-horses, breeding of horses not being
practised. They are of a very useful kind, the colour
mostly black, inclinable to tan colour, short and thick
in the barrel, and low on their legs. The price of a
six-year old horse from 25I. to 35I. Some cart-horses
are bred in Cotswold hills $ the mares are worked till
the time of foaling, but not while they suckle $ and the
foals are weaned early, while there is plenty of grass
upon the ground.
Yorkshire, which has been long celebrated for its Yorkshire
breed of horses, still stands foremost in that respect horses,
among the English counties. It is principally remarkable
for the breed of saddle-horses, which cannot be reared
in Norfolk, though many attempts have been made for
that purpose. Yorkshire stallions are frequently sent
into Norfolk $ but though the foals may be handsome
when young, they lose their beauty when old. In
Yorkshire, on the other hand, though the foal be ever
so unpromising, it acquires beauty, strength, and acti¬
vity as it grows up. Mr Marshall supposes that from
five to ten thousand horses are annually bred up between
the eastern Morelands and the Humber.
“ Thirty years ago (says Mr Marshall), strong sad¬
dle horses, fit for the road only, were bred in the
Vale j but now the prevailing breed is the fashionable
coach-horse, or a tall, strong, and over-sized hunter;
and the shows of stallions in 1787 were flat and spirit¬
less in comparison with those of I783•,, The black
cart-horse, an object of Mr Marshall’s peculiar aver¬
sion, is also coming into the Vale.
In the breeding of horses he complains greatly of
the negligence of the Yorkshire people, the mares be¬
ing almost totally neglected 5 though in the brute crea¬
tion almost every thing depends upon the female.
Of late years a very valuable breed of horses has
been reared in the upper part of Clydesdale or Lanark-si,ire bred
shire. They are of a middle size, well shaped, and ex-of horeefc
tremely active. They are not fit for a very heavy
draught, but the very quick step which they possess
gives them a decided preference for the use of the
plough upon well cultivated lands, as they are capable
of going over an immense quantity of ground in a short
time.
J'i
d
(a) Mr Bakewell distinguishes all his horses, bulls, and rams, by the letters of the alphabet.
%
‘art III.
Horses.
541
,'orfolk
lanage-
lent of
orses re-
,)iumend-
j.
Different time where the draught is not severe. The same qua-
fvinds of lities render them highly useful for the ordinary pur-
poses of farm-work, ’they are rapidly spreading over
all parts of the country, and have found their way into
the north of England, where they are greatly valued.
In the same part of the country, a larger breed has also
of late been encouraged, which adds very considerable
strength or power to the activity of the former kind.
They are in great request about Glasgow and other ma¬
nufacturing towns. Their usual draught is a load of
about 24 cwt. in addition to the cart on which the load
is placed.
With regard to the general maintenance of horses,
we have already mentioned several kinds of food upon
which experiments have been made with a view to de¬
termine the most profitable mode of keeping them.
Perhaps, however, the most certain method of ascer¬
taining this matter is by observing the practice of those
counties where horses are most in use. Mr Marshall
recommends the Norfolk management of horses as the
cheapest method of feeding them practised anywhere}
which, however, he seems willing to ascribe in a great
measure to the excellency of their breed. In the win¬
ter months, when little work is to be done, their only
rack-meat is barley-straw j a reserve of clover-hay be¬
ing usually made against the hurry of seed-time, A
bushel of corn in the most busy season is computed to
be an ample allowance for each horse, and in more lei¬
sure times a much less quantity suffices. Oats, and
sometimes barley, when the latter is cheap and unsale¬
able are given j but in this case the barley is generally
malted, i. e. steeped and afterwards spread abroad for
a few days, until it begin to vegetate, at which time it
is given to the horses, when it is supposed to be less
heating than in its natural state. Chaff is universally
mixed with horse-corn : the great quantities of corn
grown in this county afford in general a sufficiency of
natural chaff 5 so that cut chaff is not much in use :
the chaff, or rather the awns of barley, which in some
places are thrown as useless to the dunghill, are here
2 in good esteem as provender. Oat-chaff is deservedly
Phis me- considered as being of much inferior quality.—-It may
hod fol- here be remarked, that this method of keeping horses
owed in ■vYhich Mr Marshall approves of in the Norfolk farmers,
'esinScot-i8 Practise(l> an<^ probably has been so from time inl¬
and. memorial, in many places of the north of Scotland j and
is found abundantly sufficient to enable them to go
through the labour required. In summer they are in
Norfolk kept out all night, generally in clover leys, and
in summer their keep is generally clover only, a few
tares excepted.
In the 4th volume of the Annals of Agriculture,
lions of the Mr Young gives an account of the expence of keeping
’xpence of l10rseg ^ which, notwithstanding the vast numbers kept
in the island, seems still to be very indeterminate, as
tbe informations he received varied no less than from 81.
to 25I. a-year. From accounts kept on his own farm
of the expence of horses kept for no other purpose than
that of agriculture, he stated them as follows :
L. s. d.
1763 Six horses cost per horse JO itS Q
1764 Seven do. - - 8 10 11
1765 Eight do. - - 14 6 6
1766 Six do. - - 12189
Average on the whole, III. I2s, 3d.
Vol. I. Part II.
AGRICULTURE. 489
By accounts received from Northtm’ms in Hereford-
Different
Kinds of
Horses.
544
Calcuk-
seeping
horses.
shire, the expences stood as follows ;
L. s. d.
1768 Expence per horse - 20 7 o
1769 - - - 15 8 5
177° - - - 14 14 2
1771 - - - JJ 13 3
1772 * - - 18 4 o
1773 - - - 15 11 8
1774 - - - 14 4 5
1775 - - - 19 o 5
J77^ - * - 16 14 5
Average i61. 13s. id.
On these discordant accounts Mr Young observes^
undoubtedly with justice, that many of the extra ex¬
pences depend on the extravagance of the servants j
while some of the apparent savings depend either on
their carelessness, or stealing provender to their beasts
privately, which will frequently be done. He con¬
cludes, however, as follows: “ The more exactly the
expence of horses is examined into, the more advanta¬
geous will the use of oxen be found. Every day’s expe¬
rience convinces me more and more of this. If horses
kept for use alone, and not for show, have proved thus
expensive to me, what must be the expence to those
farmers who make their fat sleek teams an object of
vanity ? It is easier conceived than calculated.”
It must be observed, however, that the above trials Use of roots
or accounts are of an old date j and that during the late for feeding
dearth a variety of experiments were made, which shew^orses*
that horses may be successfully fed, even when engaged
in hard labour, with other articles than grain. With
this view, different roots have been given them as sub¬
stitutes ; and a great saving has been experienced, at¬
tended with no loss of labour or disadvantage to the
animal: so that the continuance and extension of this
system is a matter of much importance to the public.
The articles that have been chiefly employed are tur¬
nips, roota baga, potatoes, carrots, &c.—Turnips have
been given in a raw state, withholding about one half of
the usual allowance of corn, and in most instances the
animals have done their work well, and appeared in
good condition. When the roota baga has been used,
little or no grain has been necessary, and the other roots
already mentioned have been successfully used even in
a raw state } but when potatoes, yams, roota baga, &c.
are boiled, which has sometimes been done, it does not
appear that grain is at all necessary. It is to be obser¬
ved, that young horses eat these roots readily and with
great relish ; and that, during the winter, with them
and a small portion of dry food, they are kept in as good
condition and spirit as when fed upon grass during the
summer. This is a matter of much importance to young
animals, as it must contribute greatly to their growth
and future strength. Whereas, in a great majority of
cases, when reared without the aid of these roots, they
are fed in winter, when substantial food is most necessa¬
ry to support them against the severity of the weather,
in such a manner as to be barely kept alive. During the
winter months their growth is thus stopt j they lose the
little flesh they had acquired during the preceding sum¬
mer, become stinted and hide-bound, and, when the
spring arrives, they are in so miserable a state, that a
considerable part even of the summer elapses before they
3 Q can
490 AGRICULTURE.
Breeding can resume their growth. In this way four or five
and Feed- years are required to bring them to the size that others
irijr of -C l_      !^^   
Practice.
mS ot of the same species attain in half that tune under differ-
Black Cat- .
tle ent management.
Sect. III. Of the Breeding and Bearing of Black
Cattle.
A hornless These are reared for two different purposes, viz.
breed of work, aYid fattening for slaughter. For the former
black cat- purpose, Mr Marshall remarks that it is absolutely ne-
tle desira. cessary to procure a breed without horns. This he
work^ thinks would be no disadvantage, as horn, though for¬
merly an article of some request, is now of very little
value. The horns are quite useless to cattle in their
domestic state, though nature has bestowed them upon
them as weapons of defence in their wild state ; and
our author is of opinion that it would be quite practi¬
cable to produce a hornless breed of black cattle as
well as of sheep, which last has been done by attention
and perseverance ; and there are now many hornless
breeds of these creatures in Britain. Nay, he insists
that there are already three or four breeds of hornless
cattle in the island 5 or that there are many kinds of
which numbers of individuals are hornless, and from
these, by proper care and attention, a breed might be
formed. The first step is to select females j and having
observed their imperfections, to endeavour to correct
547 them by a well chosen male.
Properties The other properties of a perfect breed of black cat-
black cat-”tle ^°r tlie PurPoses of t,ie daJry as well as others,
tk. " ought, according to Mr Marshall, to be as follow :
1. The head small and clean, to lessen the quantity of
offal. 2. The neck thin and clean, to lighten the
fore-end, as well as to lessen the collar, and make it
sit close and easy to the animal in work. 3. The car¬
case large, the chest deep, and the bosom broad, with
the ribs standing out full from the spine ; to give
strength of frame and constitution, and to admit of
the intestines being lodged within the ribs. 4. The
shoulders should be light of bone, and rounded off at
the lower point, that the collar may be easy, but broad
to give strength, and well covered with flesh for the
greater ease of draught, as well as to furnish a desired
point in fatting cattle. 5. The back ought to be wide
and level throughout 5 the quarters long $ the thighs
thin, and standing narrow at the round bone 5 the ud¬
der large when full, but thin and loose when empty, to
Hold the greater quantity of milk; with large dug
veins to fill it, and long elastic teats for drawing it oft’
with greater ease. 6. The legs (below the knee and
hock) straight, and of a middle length ; their bone, in
general, light and clean from fleshiness, but with the
joints and sinews of a moderate size, for the purposes of
stiength and activity. 7. Fhe flesh ought to be mel¬
low in the state of fleshiness, and firm in the state of
fatness. 8. The hide mellow, and of a middle thick¬
ness, though in our author’s opinion this is a point not
yet well determined.
Ot'rearing . ^ie cows is always an article of great
tcaWes importance, it becomes an object to the husbandman, if
without possible, to prevent the waste of this useful fluid, which
nulfc. in the common way of rearing calves is unavoidable.
A method of bringing up these young animals at less
expence was at one time proposed by the duke of Nor-
3
thumberland. His plan was to make skimmed milk an- Breedin-
swer the purpose of that which is newly drawn from the and Feed-
teat ; and which, he supposed, might answer the purpose , inS of
at one-third of the expence of new milk. The articles toBiac^ ^at*
be added to the skimmed milk are treacle and the com- ■ ' J
mon linseed oil-cake ground very fine, and almost to Annals of
an impalpable powder, the quantities of each being so Agricult,
small, that to make 32 gallons would only cost 6d. voI'J'
besides the skimmed milk. It mixes very readilyP’256*
and almost intimately with the milk, making it more
rich and mucilaginous, without giving it any disagree¬
able taste. The receipt for making it is as follows :
Take one gallon of skimmed milk, and to about a
pint of it add half an ounce of treacle, stirring it un¬
til it is well mixed ; then take one ounce of linseed
oil-cake finely pulverized, and with the hand let it fall
gradually in very small quantities into the milk, stir¬
ring it in the mean time with a spoon or ladle until it
be thoroughly incorporated ; then let the mixture be
put into the other part of the milk, and the whole be
made nearly as warm as new milk when it is first taken
from the cow, and in that state it is fit for use. The
quantity of the oil-cake powder may be increased from
time to time as occasion requires, and as the calf be¬
comes inured to its flavour. On this subject Mr .. M9 .
Young remarks, that in rearing calves, there are twoexperi°-UDg *
objects of great importance. 1. To bring them upments.
without any milk at all ; and, 2. To make skimmed
milk answer the purpose of such as is newly milked or
sucked from the cow. In consequence of premiums
offered by the London Society, many attempts have
been made to accomplish these desirable purposes ; and
Mr Budel of Wanborough in Surrey was rewarded
for an account of his method. This was no other
than to give the creatures a gruel made of ground bar¬
ley and oats. Mr Young, however, wdio tried this
method with two calves, assures us that both of them
died, though he afterwards put them upon milk when
they were found not to thrive. When in Ireland he
had an opportunity of purchasing calves at three days
old from 2od. to 3s. each ; by which he was induced
to repeat the experiment many times over. This he
did in different ways, having collected various receipts.
In consequence of these he tried hay-tea, bean-meal
mixed with wheat-flour, barley and oats ground nearly,
but not exactly, in Mr Budd’s method ; but the prin¬
cipal one was flax-seed boiled into a jelly, and mixed
with warm water; this being recommended more than
all the rest. The result of all these trials was, that
out of 30 calves only three or four were reared ; these
few were, brought up with barley and oat-meal, and a
very small quantity of flax-seed jelly ; one only except¬
ed, which at the desire of his coachman was brought
up on a mixture of two-thirds of skimmed milk and
one-third of water, with a small addition of flax jelly
well dissolved.
r he second object, viz. that of improving skimmed
milk, according to the plan of the duke of Northum¬
berland, seems to be the more practicable of the two.
Mr \oung informs us, that it has answered well with
him lor two seasons ; and two farmers to whom he com¬
municated it gave also a favourable report.
In tbe third volume of the same work, we are in¬
formed that the Cornwall farmers use the following
method in rearing their calves. “ They are taken
from
lethod.
Part III. A G R I C U
Breeding from the cow from the fourth to the sixth day ; after
uvd Feed- which they have raw milk from six to ten or fourteen
i'nk°Cat dayS- this, they feed them with scalded skim-
aCtle. med m'^ and grue^ of shelled oats, from three
—^   i quarts to four being given in the morning, and the same
550 in the evening. The common family broth is thought
lethod of to be as good, or better, than the gruel, the savour of
dves’in rl'6 Sa^ supposed to strengthen their bowels.
Jornwall. proportion ot gruel or broth is about one-third of
the milk given them. A little fine hav is set before
551 ? them, which they soon begin to eat.
Ir Ciook s t|ie vojume of gatJj paperSj we Jiave an ac.
count by Mr Crook of a remarkably successful experi¬
ment on rearing calves without any milk at all. This
gentleman, in 1787, weaned 17 calves 5 in 1788, 23 ;
and in 1789, 15. In 1787, he bought three sacks'of
linseed, value 2I. 5s. which lasted the whole three
years. One quart of it was put to six quarts of water j
which, by boiling 10 minutes, was reduced to a jelly :
the calves were fed with this, mixed with a small quan¬
tity of tea, made by steeping the best hay in boiling
water. By the use of this food three times a-day, he
says that his calves throve better than those of his
neighbours, which were reared with milk. These un¬
natural kinds of food, however, are in many cases apt
to produce a looseness, which in the end proves fatal to
the calves. In Cornwall, they remedy this sometimes
by giving acorns as an astringent; sometimes by a cor¬
dial used for the human species, of which opium is the
basis.
^ In Norfolk, the calves are reared with milk and tur¬
nips 5 sometimes with oats and bran mixed among the
latter. Minter calves are allowed more milk than
summer ones j but they are universally allowed new
milk, or even to suck. In the midland counties bull-
calves are allowed to remain at the teat until they be
six, nine, or twelve months old, letting them run either
with their dams or with cows of less value bought on
purpose. Each cow is generally allowed one male or
two female calves. Thus they grow very fast, and
become surprisingly vigorous. The method of the
dairy-men is to let the calves suck for a week or a
fortnight, according to their strength ; next they have
new milk in pails for a few meals 5 after that, new and
skimmed milk mixed } then skimmed milk alone, or
porridge made with milk, water, ground oats, &c.
sometimes with oil-cake, &c. until cheese-making com¬
mences ; after which they have whey-porridge, or
sweet whey in the field, being carefully housed in the
night until the warm weather comes in.
, -A- tate intelligent Scottish clergyman, Mr John
tesmode. Braclfute 0f Dimsyj.^ once or twice successfully made
trial of treacle, as a food by means of which to rear
calves without the aid of any kind of milk. He used
it diluted with common water, and sometimes with
what is called hay-tea, that is to sav, water in which
hay had been boiled. The whole expence of the
treacle necessary to bring a calf the length of using
common food was at that time (15 years ago) about
4s. 6d. The animals came forward well, and enjoyed
good health j but they grew much to the bone, and
did not fatten for a considerable time.
For feeding cattle, two modes of practice have been
proposed, and in some situations adopted 5 the one
mode, which is the most ancient, and the most exten-
5S2
orfolk
lethod,
;c.
553
Ir Brad
554
ittle are
w lured,
L T U R E. 49,
sively practised in agricultural countries, consists of Breeding;
turning out the cattle during the whole season that and Feed-
any food for them can be found on the ground, and of inS of
taking them into the house during the severity of win-
ter, and of feeding them with such articles as can be \ , v- •>
most conveniently procured in the climate and situa¬
tion, such as, straw or hay of different kinds, and
roots.
I he other mode, which has been adopted to some or sudl fed.
extent by husbandmen in Germany, and at times also
in our own great towns, by persons called cow-feeders,
who supply the inhabitants with milk, is called the
system of stall-feeding. It consists of keeping the
cattle continually in the house at every season of the
year, and of feeding them there. By many German
writers upon rural economy this system is highly ap¬
proved of, as affording the means of drawing the high¬
est possible produce from every portion of the land,
and as employing a great number of hands in the use¬
ful occupations of husbandry. In a communication to
the Board of Agriculture from A. Thaer, M. I), phy- ss6
sician of the electoral court of Hanover, the advanta-Stall-feed-
ges of this system are said to be founded upon the fol-iagin Ger-
lowing incontrovertible principles : many,
“ 1. A spot of ground which, when pastured upon,
will yield sufficient food for only one head, will abun¬
dantly maintain four head of cattle in the stable, if the
vegetables be mowed at a proper time, and given to the
cattle in a proper order.
“ 2. The stall-feeding yields at least double the
quantity of manure from the same number of cattle ;
for the best and most efficacious summer manure is pro¬
duced in the stable, and carried to the fields at the
most proper period of its fermentation, whereas, when
spread on the meadow, and exhausted by the air and
sun, its power is entirely wasted.
“ 3. The cattle used to stall-feeding will yield a much
greater quantity of milk, and increase faster in weight
when fattening, than when they go to the field.
“ 4. They are less subject to accidents, do not suf¬
fer by the heat, by flies, and insects, are not affected
by the baneful fogs which are frequent in Germany,
and bring on inflammations : on the contrary, if every
thing be properly managed, they remain in a constant
state of health and vigour.”
It is added that a sufficient, or rather plentiful sup¬
ply of food for one head of cattle daily, if kept in
a stable, consists upon an average of 130 pounds of
green or 30 pounds of dry clover, which answers the
same purpose. Hence one head of cattle requires in
365 days, about 10,950 pounds of dry clover, 01
about 100 cwts. of no pounds each, the portion of
food being according to this mode of feeding alike
both in summer and winter. Each head of heavy fat
cattle fed in the stable, if plenty of food be given,
yields annually 16 double cart loads of dung. The
rotation oi crops that is most frequently used in Ger¬
many upon farms occupied in stall-feeding, appears to
be the following; “ One year, manured for beans,
pease, cabbages, potatoes, turnips, linseed, &c. j
2. Rye j 3. Barley, mixed with clover j 4. Clover,
to be mowed two or three times $ 5. Clover, to be
mowed once, then to be broken up, ploughed three
or four times, and manured ; 6. Wheat; 7. Oats.”—In
consequence of the large quantity of stable dung pro-
3 Q 2 duced
492
Breeding
and Feed¬
ing of
Black Cat¬
tle.
557 ,
Two modes
of stall-
feeding.
558
Roots gi-
Ten to cat¬
tle should
be boiled.
559
Cheap
mode of
boiling
roots by
steam.
A G R I C U L
<3uced upon farms thus occupied, every acre of land
receives every three years 10 double cart loads of that
best of all kinds of manure.
It is undoubtedly to be wished that a similar mode
of management could be profitably introduced into this
country, from the tendency which it would have to
augment the number of persons occupied in rural af¬
fairs, from the importance which it would give to
farms of a moderate extent, and from the benefit which
must arise from making the most of every part of the
soil. It has already been introduced into several places
in England, and we have little doubt that the practice
will gradually extend itself, in consequence of the in¬
creasing demand for butcher’s meat, and for all the pro¬
ductions of the dairy.
Of stall-feeding, however, whether with a view to
the maintenance or to the fattening of cattle, it must
be observed, that there are two modes of proceeding.
Of late years, it has been found advantageous to culti¬
vate to a great extent turnips, potatoes, and other
roots, and these now constitute a large portion of the
winter food of cattle. These roots are either given to
the cattle in their natural raw state, or they are given
after being boiled. Of these tw'O modes of feeding,
that of giving them to the cattle raw has hitherto been
the most common, but it is extremely improper, as
being a thriftless plan of proceeding. The same quan¬
tity of these roots, if given in a raw state, that will
barely support a horse in idleness, will enable him, when
boiled, to encounter the severest labour without injury
to his health or spirit. There are many animals also,
such as hogs, which cannot be fattened by roots unless
they undergo this process. These animals can be rear¬
ed to the full size upon raw potatoes, yams, carrots,
roota baga, &c. and may be kept in good health for
any length of time without the aid of any other food.
Under that management, however, they very seldom
if ever fatten $ but when the roots are boiled, they im¬
mediately begin to feed, and soon become fat upon a
smaller allowance than what was necessary to keep them
barely alive when given in a raw state.
The same holds true in a great degree with regard
to all cattle. With a view, therefore, to make the
most of the various succulent roots which are now cul¬
tivated, and which will perhaps one day be accounted
the most valuable productions of our soil, it is absolute¬
ly necessary that they should be given to cattle boiled.
Many husbandmen have long been sensible of this, but
it has appeared a very formidable operation to boil the
greatest part of the food of perhaps 20 horses, and 100
head of black cattle. There is nothing more true,
however, than that this labour when undertaken upon
skilful principles, may be rendered not only easy, but
so trifling, that it may be performed by a single old
man, or by a woman. To accomplish this object,
however, it is necessary, that the roots be boiled not
over the fire in a caldron of metal, but at a distance
from it in a large wooden vat or tub by the steam of
boiling water.
There are two ways of boiling roots by steam. They
may either be boiled in such a way as to retain their
original figure, or they may be converted into soup ;
both modes are performed with equal ease. All that
is necessary, is to erect a boiler in any outhouse : The
boiler, which may be of cast iron, ought to have a close
T U R E. Practice.
cover or lid, having a small hole for filling it with Breeding
water, which can be easily closed up, and another and Feed-
hole in the centre, of about one-fourth of the diameter in£
of the cover. To this last hole ought to be soldered Cat-
tube of tin-plate, commonly called white iron, by which ■ ^ r
the steam may ascend. This tube ought to rise perpen¬
dicularly to the height of six feet, narrowing gradually
to about two inches diameter. It may then bend off at
right angles, to the most convenient situation for the
tub or vat in which the roots are to be boiled. When
it comes perpendicularly over the centre of the vat, it
must be made to descend to within two or three inches
of the bottom of it, being properly supported and fixed
all the way.
To boil roots with this apparatus, it is only neces¬
sary to tumble them into the tub or vat into which the
end of the white-iron tube descends. The tub ought
then to be covered negligently. The water in the
boiler being heated to ebullition, its steam or vapour
rises and passes along the white-iron tube, and at last
descends to the bottom of the wooden vessel containing
the roots, and in a very trifling space of time renders
them completely soft. If it is wished to convert these
roots into soup, it is only necessary to throw among
them a quantity of water, and to mash them down
with any large ladle or other instrument. The steam
continuing to descend will speedily boil the water, and
agitate and mingle the whole ingredients of which the
soup may be composed. In this way by various mix¬
tures of roots, with little or no trouble, rich broths,
which human beings would not dislike, may be formed
for feeding a multitude of cattle, and the soup may ea¬
sily be drawn off from the bottom of the vat by means
of a hole to be occasionally opened or shut with a round
piece of wood.
In performing the above operation, however of
forming broth or soup, before allowing the water in
the vessel over the fire to give over boiling, the hole
ought to be opened by which it is usually filled with
water, as the liquor in the vat might otherwise, in con¬
sequence of the pressure of the atmosphere, ascend
through the white-iron tube and come over into the
boiler. To strengthen the white-iron tube, it may be
proper also to cover it all over with paper pasted to it
with glue, or with a mixture of pease-meal and wrater. ,
To fatten cattle with success, then, we apprehend for
that the following rules ought to be adhered to. As fattening
a man is kept thin and meagre by whatever agitates his cattle,
mind, or renders him anxious, fretful, and uncomfort¬
able, so we ought to consider that cattle, though they
want foresight of the future, have nevertheless minds
capable of being irritated and disturbed, which must
so far waste their bodies. In attempting to fatten them,
therefore, care ought to be taken to preserve the tran¬
quillity of their minds, and as much as possible to
keep them in a state of cleanness and of moderate
warmth. The food they receive ought to be varied at
times to increase their appetite 5 but above all things it
ought to be made as far as possible of easy digestion,
that they may receive it in larger portions, and that a
greater quantity of it may incorporate with their con¬
stitution, and not be thrown off by dung, as happens
when they receive coarse nourishment. It is in vain to
object to this artificial mode of proceeding, that the
natural food of animals is grass alone, and that their
natural.
art III. A G R I C U
Learing natural dwelling is the open air. The same might be
d Fatten-said with regard to the human species. In his natural,
«g Hogs. t|iat js> ;n his unimproved state, a savage may be un-
’ v der the necessity of eating raw flesh or herbs, or of
climbing into a tree for shelter j but although it may
be possible for him to subsist in this way, yet we know
that this is by no means the best mode of his existence,
and that his life and health are better preserved by the
shelter of a settled dwelling, and by more delicate food,
prepared by industry. In the same manner it is no
doubt true, that cattle can exist upon very coarse food,
and may be even fattened by means of it *, but as a great¬
er quantity of it becomes necessary, the husbandman’s
profit in rearing them is so far diminished, and the va¬
lue of his lands to the community is lessened.
Sect. IV. Of the Rearing and Fattening'’of Hogs.
The practice of keeping these animals is so general,
especially in England, that one should think the profit
attending it would be absolutely indisputable ; and this
the more especially, when it is considered how little
nicety they have in their choice of food. From such
experiments, however, as have been made, the matter
appears to be at least very doubtful, unless in particu¬
lar circumstances. In the first volume of Annals of
561 Agriculture, we have an experiment by Mr Mure of
r Mute’s feeding hogs with the cluster potato and carrots; by
ien* which it appeared, that the profit on large hogs was
much greater than on small ones ; the latter eating
almost as much as the former, without yielding a pro¬
portionable increase of flesh. The gain was counted
by weighing the large and small ones alive ; and it was
found, that from November loth to January 5th, they
had gained in the following proportion ;
jch
:nts.
20 large hogs, - - L. 1
20 small, . o
2 stag hogs, - . j
On being finished with pease, however, it appeared, that
there was not any real profit at last; for the accounts
stood ultimately as follow :
3 6
7 8
17 8
Dr
V alue of hogs at
putting up,
33 comb pease,
at 14s.
2 ditto, 2 bushels
barley, at 14s.
56 days attend¬
ance of one
man, at I4d.
950 bushels of car
rots, and 598 of
potatoes, at 34d.
per bushel,
L.44 2
23 2
1
3 5 4
22 15 8
Cr
42 hogs sold
O fat at L. 95
L- 95 ° o L. 95 o o
In some experiments by Mr Young, related in the
same volume, he succeeded still worse, not being able
to clear his expences. His first experiment was attended
with a loss of one guinea per hog; the second with a
loss of ns. 8d; ; the third, of only 3s. In these three
the hogs were fed with pease; given whole in the two
L T U R E. 493
first, but ground into meal in the last. The fourth ex- Rearine:
penment, in which the hog was fed with Jerusalem ar-and Fatten-
tichokes, was attended with no loss ; but another, in iu&
which pease were again tried, was attended with a loss ‘
ol 4s. Other experiments were tried with pease,
which turning out likewise unfavourable, barley was
tried ground along with pease and peans. This was
attended with a small profit, counting nothing for
the trouble of feeding the animals. The expences on
two hogs were 14I. 13s. i0id. the value 15I. us.
3f(fi that there was a balance m his favour of
17s. 4^. Li another experiment, in which the hogs
were fed with pease and barley ground, the beans be¬
ing omitted as useless, there was a profit of 12s. 3d.
upon an expence of 20I. 15s. pd.; which our author
supposes would pay the attendance. In this experi¬
ment the pease and barley meal were mixed into a liquor
like cream, and allowed to remain in that state for
three weeks till it became sour. This was attended
in two other instances with profit, and in a third with
loss : however, Mr Young is of opinion, that the prac¬
tice will still be found advantageous on account of the
quantity of dung raised ; and that the farmer can thus
use his pease and barley at home without carrying them
to market.
It is to be observed, that the above experiments were
not made upon the fattening of hogs in the proper man¬
ner in which that animal ought to be fed. Its food
ought undoubtedly to consist chiefly of roots, such as
yams, potatoes, &c.; but these roots, as already men¬
tioned, ought always to be boiled, or made into soups.
With this mode of proceeding, the hog, from its rapid
multiplication, and quick growth, is a very profitable
kind of stock.
Hogsties are of simple construction ; they require on-Description
ly a warm dry place for the swine to lie in, with a small °f a proper
area before, and troughs to hold their food. They are hoSsly*
generally made with shed roofs, and seldom above 6 or
7 feet wide.
Although swine are generally considered as the fil¬
thiest of all animals, yet there is no animal delights
more in a clean comfortable place to lie down in, and
none that cleanliness has a better effect upon with re¬
spect to their thriving and feeding. In order to keep
them dry, a sufficient slope must be given, not only to
the inside where they lie, but to the outside area, with
proper drains to carry off all moisture. The inside
should also be a little elevated, and have a step up from
the area at least 3 or 6 inches. Hogsties should have
several divisions to keep the different sorts of swine se¬
parate, nor should a great many ever be allowed to go
together; for it is thought they feed better in small
numbers, and of equal size, than when many are put
together of different sizes. Proper divisions must there¬
fore be made, some for swine when with the boar,
others for brood swine, and for them to farrow in, for
weaning the pigs, for feeding, &c.
Swine are apt to spill and waste a great deal of their
meat by getting their feet among it, unless proper pre¬
cautions are taken to prevent them. This may be done
by making a rail or covering of thin deal slope from the
back part of the trough towards the fore part, leaving
just room enough to admit their heads. There should
also be divisions across the troughs, according to the
number of swine, to prevent the strongest driving away
ih&
494
Sheep, the weakest. These divisions need not extend to the
u,—v.bottom of the troughs, but should rise a little higher
than the top, and may be made of pieces of board about
8 or io inches broad.
Sties ought to be constructed that the swine may be
easily fed without going in among them. In some places
it is so contrived that they may be fed through openings
in the back kitchen wall, without even going out of
doors. This is very convenient where only a few swine
are kept for family use, and makes it easy to give them
the refuse of vegetables and other things from the kit¬
chen, which perhaps, would otherwise be thrown away.
Where pigs are to be reared on an extensive scale, there
ought to be what is called in England a pigs kitchen,
that is, a proper apparatus ought to be erected adjoin¬
ing to the hogsty, for boiling their food. To avoid ex¬
pence, steam ought always to be used for this purpose,
in the way already described.
Sect. V. Sheep.
563
Experi- The rearing of sheep properly belongs to the article
meats on pasturage. So far, however, as they are fed upon the
(ceding products of human industry, they belong to the present
roots! * 1 subject. In the Memoirs of the Royal Society of A-
griculture in Paris for the year 1788, the result is
given of certain experiments upon the advantage and
economy of feeding sheep in the house with roots. The
experiments were made by M. Crette de Palluel. He
states that the custom of feeding sheep in a house is
common in several of the French provinces, but in
others is unknown : That the mode of fattening them
in that situation consisted of giving them clean corn and
choice hay : That in substituting roots for corn, hay
was continued to be given to them, either of clover,
lucern, after-math, or any other sort. The corn com¬
monly used for fattening sheep is barley and oats.
Sometimes gray pease, or the marshed bean, and rye.
“ Although the sheep fed upon roots (says M. Crette)
did not acquire quite so great a degree of fatness as
those fed upon corn, it is however true, that they all
fattened, and that if their food had been varied, they
would have made great progress : I can even assert
the fact of four, which were put upon change of food
towards the end of the experiment, and ate much more.
Practice.
“ The sheep put to potatoes ate little at first, for sheep
some days, which prevented them from thriving so much ' i,_■
as the others *, but they recovered the second month
what they lost the first. As for those put to turnips and
beets, they fed heartily from the first moment, and con¬
tinued it. They all drank much less than those fed
upon corn.
“ Corn might with advantage be added to the roots :
When the sheep are intended to be sold, two feeds of
corn given them for a fortnight, in the intervals of
their meals of roots, would harden both th^ir flesh and
their talfow.
“ It was not sufficient to prove the possibility of fat¬
tening sheep with different kinds of roots ; it was far¬
ther necessary to ascertain the qualities which their flesh
might acquire, by the use of them. Four sheep, fed
upon the four regimens, were killed the same day j there
was indeed some trifling difference in the texture of
their flesh, but upon the whole the flavour of all was
the same. Let us then conclude, that the culture of
roots opens to us infinite resources, not only for fat¬
tening of sheep, but also of beasts ; and we do not
doubt of their being used to the greatest advantage in
bringing up cattle in the countries where they are
bred.
“ The knowledge of these experiments must induce
farmers to adopt this culture, since it is so advantage¬
ous. Roots cannot be exported 5 corn, on the contrary,
is exported $ and the grower may sell the roots instead
of consuming them. One acre of roots is equal to five
acres of corn. By this means he multiplies his land,
and may consequently multiply his cattle and his dung¬
hill : added to this, roots are not subject, like corn, to
the inclemencies of the seasons 5 the produce is always
more certain ; these plants being of different natures, it
is not likely that they should all fail; the earth is a
more faithful depository of our treasures than the at¬
mosphere j the dreadful hurricane of the 15th of this
month (July) destroyed every thing but roots j they
are the only product which escaped its ravages ; if the
hail tore their leaves, others will soon shoot 5 and car¬
rots, beets, turnips, and potatoes, will be safe.” ,
The result of the experiments alluded to is given i»
the following terms :
AGRICULTURE.
Experiment.
art III.
Sheep.
AGRICULTURE.
Experiment upon Fatting Sheep, and their Increase from Month to Month.
Sixteen sheep of the same age, of four different breeds, were nicked nut nf mv • r .
count.y, four of Bounce, four of Champagne, and fou, of pLrdv : I “f
with a number j I divided them into four lots, and fed them on different sons of food, as under. eaC1
Food.
N°
r1
Potatoes, <
u
Turnips,
li
Breeds.
fsle de France
Beauce,
Champagne,
Picardy,
5 [sle de France
Beauce,
Champagne,
Picardy,
Beets,
Oats, bar¬
ley, and
gray peas.
9
10
1,12
r
L
fsle de France,
Beauce,
Champagne,
Picardy,
fsle de France,
Beauce,
Champagne,
Picardy,
Weights at different Periods.—178S.
    —__j\ 
Jan. 20.
69ilb.
7°i
69i
88
69
71
68|
79
Feb
79|lb.
824
83
95
72
70t
77l
80
74
73f
86
86
784
95i
Mar. 20.
pO^lb
821
IOI
831
8o4
9°4-
934-
91
844
864
77
87
824
974-
9°4-
86
98s
95i
91#
93
April 20
931b.
84
84
974-
May 2C,
95lb.
844
94
ioo{
102
96
roi
ro6
Increase each Month.
   A  
stM. 2d M id M UthM
iclb.
l3i
5°4-
•7
I5
10
161
584
lb.
, 7*
‘oss4
6 '
lb.
14
4i
i4
T
IO
l3z
x3i
48
n
5t
16
59 184
7t
Si
I74-
4?
74-
64
i4
34
64
44
Total incr. which
each food has pro-
Inced upon four
sheep.
7olb.
1
674
71
^9*i
“ Observatiok. The increase of these sheep, du¬
ring the first month, being so much more considerable
then in the following months, must be attributed to this
cause, that lean cattle put up to fatten, eat greedily
until they are cloyed, which only fills them, without
much increasing their flesh 5 but, on the contrary, the
increase produced in the ensuing months, although ap¬
parently less, turns all to profit in flesh and tallow.”
Sect. VI. Of Rabbits.
In particular situations these animals may he kept to
advantage, as they multiply exceedingly, and require
no trouble in bringing up. A considerable number of
them are kept in Norfolk, where many parts, consist¬
ing of barren hills or heaths, are proper for their re¬
ception. They delight in the sides of sandy hills,
which are generally unproductive when tilled ; but
level ground is improper for them. Mr Marshall is of
opinion, that there are few sandy or other loose soiled
hills which would not pay better in rabbit warrens than
any thing else. “ The hide of a bullock (says he)
is not worth more than ^th of his carcase ; the skin Rabbit
of a sheep may, in full wool, be worth freni a sixth to more va-
a tenth ol its carcase j but the fur of a rabbit JsluaW« than
worth twice the whole value of the carcase ; thereforeb!ac,keattlc
supposing a rabbit to consume a quantity of food iriorKheeP“
proportion to its carcase, it is, on the principle oflered,
a species of stock nearly three times as valuable as ei¬
ther cattle or sheep. Babbit warrens ought to be in¬
closed with a stone or sod wall; and at their first
stocking, it will he necessary to form burrows to them
until they have time to make them to themselves.
Boring the ground horizontally with a large auger is
perhaps the best method that can be practised. Eagles,
kites, and other birds of prey, as well as cats, weasels,
and pole-cats, are great enemies of rabbits. The Nor-Method of
folk warreners catch the birds by traps placed on the destroying
tops of stumps of trees or artificial hillocks of a coni-birds of
cal form, on which they naturally alight. Traps alsoPreF*
seem to be the only method of getting rid of the other
enemies; though thbs the rabbits themselves are in
danger of being caught.
Babbits may be fed during the summer with clover
and
AGRICULTURE.
566
Angora
breed of
rabbits.
and other green food, and during the winter with cab¬
bages. Where they are kept in an inclosure as part
of the stock of the farm, a practice which has not yet
been used in this country, they ought to be fed with
great regularity, and with as much as they are willing
to take. When this is done, they thrive upon a very
moderate quantity of food $ but if they are once al¬
lowed to suffer hunger in any great degree, they be¬
come extremely ravenous, and for a long time can
scarcely be satisfied with food. In a communication
to the ^ Board of Agriculture from M. Bertrand of
Mechlin, in the Netherlands, we are informed that the
rabbits of the Angora breed yield in Normandy an
uncommonly valuable wool, which serves as a primary
material in several considerable manufactures. The
Normans assert, that each rabbit yields wool of the
value of a crown or six fivres. M. Bertrand having
discovered that these rabbits are extremely fond of the
leaves of the robinia pseudo-acacia^ (the false acacia),
made the following trial of its effects. He fed some
females with these leaves only, while to others he gave
cabbage leaves and the common food furnished to
these animals. He observed that the young ones pro¬
ceeding from the females fed on the leaves of the robi¬
nia, grew larger and in less time, and that their coats
and wool were finer than on the others fed in the com¬
mon way. He caused the skins of the indigenous rab¬
bits fed with the robinia leaves to be examined by hat¬
ters, and they valued them much more than the com¬
mon ones, asserting that their wool approached in qua¬
lity to that of hares. The robinia, he observes, thrives
on barren heaths. Its branches and leaves are re¬
markably numerous. Its leaves may be converted into
hay, which rabbits and other animals devour eagerly.
One person is able to cut a sufficient quantity of branch¬
es for a great number of rabbits ; and turnips, vetches,
beans, and other vegetables, can be sown under the
trees.
Practice,
This, however, is not absolutely necessary j for all sorts p0Uiu.y
may be kept promiscuously together, provided they have ' y—^
a place sufficiently large to accommodate them conveni¬
ently, and proper divisions and nests for each kind to re¬
tire to separately, which they will naturally do of them¬
selves.
This method is practised with great success at Mr
Wakefield’s, near Liverpool, who keeps a large stock
of turkeys, geese, hens, and ducks, all in the same of AgriluL
place ; and although young turkeys are in general ture, by
considered so difficult to bring up, he rears great num- Rolen
bers of them in this manner every season with little or ^ats»n,
no trouble whatever. He has about three quarters or 'f^6S
a whole acre inclosed with a fence only six or Example of
feet high, formed of slabs set on end, or any a proper
Sfi7
^Poultry
ought to
he confined.
Sect. VII. 'Poultry.
near
seven
Poultry, if rightly managed, might be a source of
great profit to the farmer ; but where many are kept,
they ought not to be allowed to go at large, in which
case little profit can be expected from them, for not
only will many of their eggs be lost, and many of
themselves perhaps destroyed by vermine, but at cer¬
tain seasons they do a great deal of mischief both in
the barn-yard and in the field. No doubt they pick
tip some grain at the barn-doors that might otherwise
be lost} but if the straw is properly threshed and sha¬
ken, there would be very little of this. In the com¬
mon careless way of threshing, a great deal of corn is
undoubtedly thrown out among the straw j but when
we consider the dung of the fowls and their feathers
that get among it, and the injury these must do to the
cattle, this is no object. It is much better to allow
the poultry a certain quantity of food, and to let the
cattle have the benefit of what corn may remain among
the straw.
Poultry ought therefore always to be confined, but
not in a close, dark, diminutive hovel, as is often the
case ; they should have a spacious airy place properly-
constructed for them. Some people are of opinion
that each sort of poultry should be kept by itself.
thinnings of fir or other trees split and put close to- mode of
gether. They are fastened by a nail near the top and
another near the bottom, and are pointed sharp, which1
I suppose prevents the poultry flying oyer, for they
never attempt it although so low. Within this fence
are places done up slightly (but well secured from wet)
for each sort of poultry j also a pond or stream of wa¬
ter running through it. These poultry are fed al¬
most entirely with potatoes boiled in steam, and thrive
astonishingly well. The quantity of dung that is made
in this poultry-place is also an object worth attention ;
and when it is cleared out, a thin paring of the surface
is at the same time taken off, which makes a valuable
compost.
It is generally understood that a full-grown hen con¬
tinues in her prime for three years, and that during that
period, if properly fed, she will lay at a medium 200
eggs every year. The number, however, of eggs may
be greatly increased by making the place to which this
kind of poultry retire at night very warm and comfort¬
able, by its being placed contiguous to a wall on the
other side of which a fire is kept, or by its being heat¬
ed in any other manner. In the cottages of the. poor
in Scotland, where the poultry and the inhabitants
sleep under the same roof, the hens continue with a mo¬
derate portion of food to produce eggs during the great¬
est part of the winter. 569
In Norfolk a great number of turkeys are bred, of a Greatnura-
size and quality superior to those in other parts. Mr oftur-^
Marshall accounts for their number in the following
manner: “ It is understood in general, that to rear
turkeys with success, it is necessary that a male bird
should be kept upon the spot to impregnate the eggs
singly 5 but the good housewives of this country know,
that a daily intercourse is unnecessary $ and that if the
hen be sent to a neighbouring cock previous to the sea¬
son of exclusion, one act of impregnation is sufficient for
one brood. Thus relieved from the expence and dis¬
agreeableness of keeping a male bird, most little farm¬
ers, and many cottagers, rear turkeys. This accounts
for their number -, and the species and the food they are
■fatted with (which, I believe, is wholly buck) account
for their superior size and quality.” ^
The following account of the Lincolnshire manage-Eincoln-
ment of geese is given by Mr John Foote of Bran-shire ma-
dnn. in flip Annals of Aoriculture. “ It is eeneral'ynaSe
don, in the Annals of Agriculture. “ It is generally
allowed, that three geese to one gander is sufficient
more geese would be too many, so as to render the
eggs abortive. The quantity of eggs to every goose
for sitting about 12 or 13. They must be fed with
corn
Part III.
Manage- corn in their water whilst sitting, near them, so as to
sient of the feed at pleasure. The ganders should be allowed to
,_Uair-v* , keep near them, so that they can see them, as they will
naturally watch as a guard over their own geese.
“ 'I heir nests should be made for them of straw, and
confined so as the eggs cannot roll out when the geese
turn them, which they do every day.
“ When near hatching, the shell should be broke a
little against the beak or bill of the gosling, to give air,
or to enable it to receive strength to throw oft’ the shell
at a proper time. The method of plucking them about
the beginning of April is this : Pluck gently and care¬
fully the fine feathers of their breast and back; but be
careiul not to pull or interrupt their down or pen fea¬
thers.
“ You also pull their quills, five out of a wing ; but
I think four would be better. The quills will bear
pulling in 13 or 14 weeks again, twice in a year 5 the
leathers three times a year, of the old geese and gan¬
ders, seven weeks from the first pulling 5 and then
again seven weeks after, which is the last pulling of the
year.
“ The young geese may be pulled once at 13 or 14
weeks old, but not quilled, being hatched in March.
“ 11 the geese are late in hatching, I expect the brood
geese should not be plucked so soon as April, but the
month after. x
“ II they are fed with barley and oats, as they ought
to be, they will thrive and do the better, and their fea¬
thers will grow the faster, and better in quality 5 they
must have plenty of grass and water.
“Although persons not acquainted with the manage¬
ment of geese, as above described, may think it inhu¬
man $ yet I am credibly informed, they will do better
than where they do not pluck them, if they are pro¬
perly done, as they lose their feathers by moulting, and
would not be so healthy.
“ It is proved, that by annually plucking geese, as
in Lincolnshire, there is saved, by the increase of fea¬
thers, many hundred pounds value, which other coun¬
tries waste, through a mistaken opinion, as not an object
worth their attention. Goose feathers are now sold at
18s. a stone, that used about 25 years ago to be bought
at 10s. or ns. in that county.
“ A goose will produce by this method about is. 6d.
annually of good feathers and quills.”
AGRICULTURE.
57 ^
Importance the richest corn countries, this is a most im-
the portant branch of the business of a husbandman. It in¬
cludes not only the proper method of preserving milk in
a wholesome and uncorrupted state, but also the manu¬
facturing from it the two valuable articles of butter and
eheese. We shall first consider the subject of the dairy
in a general manner 5 after which we shall take notice
Sy2 of the mode of preparing butter and cheese.
Principles Dr James Anderson remarks, that when a dairy is
established, the undertaker may sometimes think it his
|o«ghtytobeinterest t0 °^ta'n ^ie greatest possible quantity of pro-
uanaged. ^uce} sometimes it may be more beneficial for him to
have it of the finest quality $ and at other times it may
be necessary to have both these objects in view, the one
or the other in a greater or less proportion ; it is there¬
fore of importance that he should know how he may
Vol. I. Part II. f
Sect. VIII. Of the Management of the Dairy.
accomplish the one or the other of these purposes in the
easiest and most direct manner.
To be able to convert bis milk to the highest possi¬
ble profit in every case, he ought to be fully acquaint¬
ed with every circumstance respecting the manufacture
both of butter and of cheese $ as it may in some cases
happen, that a certain portion of that milk may be
more advantageously converted into butter than into
cheese, while another portion of it would return more
profit if made into cheese.
The first thing to be adverted to, in an undertaking
of this nature, is to choose cows ol a proper sort. A-
mong this class of animals, it is found by experience,
that some kinds give milk of a much thicker consist¬
ence, and richer quality, than others 5 nor is this rich¬
ness of quality necessarily connected with the smallness
of the quantity yielded by cows of nearly an equal size ;
it therefore behoves the owner of a dairy to be peculi¬
arly attentive to this circumstance. In judging of the
value of a cow, it ought rather to be the quantity and
the quality of the cream produced from the milk of the
cow, in a given time, than the quantity of the milk it¬
self: this is a circumstance that will be shewn hereafter
to be of more importance than is generally imagined.
The small cows of the Alderney breed afford the rich¬
est milk hitherto known ; but individual cows in every
country may be found, by a careful selection, that aftbr’d
much thicker milk than others ; these therefore ought
to be searched for with care, and their breed reared
with attention, as being peculiarly valuable.
lew persons, who have had any experience at all in
the dairy, can be ignorant, however, that in comparing
the milk of two cows, to judge of their respective qliali-
ties, particular attention must be paid to the time that
has elapsed since their calving $ for the milk of the same
cow is always thinner soon after calving than it is af¬
terwards j as it gradually becomes thicker, though ge¬
nerally less in quantity, in proportion to the time since
the cow has calved. The colour of the milk, soon after
calving, is richer than it is afterwards j hut this, espe¬
cially for the first two weeks, is a faulty colour, that
ought not to be coveted.
To make the cows give abundance of milk, and of a
good quality, they must at all times have plenty of
food. Grass is the best food yet known for this pur¬
pose, and that kind of grass which springs up spontane¬
ously on rich dry soils is the best of all. If the tempe¬
rature of the climate be such as to permit the cows to
graze at ease throughout the day, they should be suffer¬
ed to range on such pastures at freedom; but if the
cows are so much incommoded by the heat as to be pre¬
vented from eating throughout the day, they ought in
that case to be taken into cool sheds for protection j
where, after allowing them a proper time to ruminate,
they should be supplied with abundance of green food,
fresh-cut for the purpose, and given to them by hand
frequently, in small quantities, fresh and fresh, so as to
induce them to eat it with pleasure. When the heat
of the day is over, and they can remain abroad with
ease, they may be again turned into the pasture, where
they should be allowed to range with freedom all nighty
during the mild weather of summer.
Cows, if abundantly fed, should be milked three times
a day during the whole of the summer season ; in the
morning early, at noon, and in the evening, just before
3 R night-
497
Manage¬
ment of the
Dairy.
498 AGRICULTURE. Practice.
Manage- niglit-fal!.. In the choice of persons for milking the
ment ot the cows, great caution should be employed”, for if that
^all>'- operation be not carefully and properly performed, not
v~~~ only the quantity of the produce of the dairy will be
greatly diminished, but its quality also will be very
much debased; for if all the milk be not thoroughly
drawn from a cow when she is milked, that portion of
milk which is left in the udder seems to be gradually
absorbed into the system, and nature generates no more
than to supply the waste of what has been taken away.
If this lessened quantity be not again thoroughly drawn
off, it occasions a yet further diminution of the quan¬
tity of milk generated ; and thus it may be made to
proceed, in perpetual progression from little to less, till
none at all is produced. In short, this is the practice
in all cases followed, when it is meant to allow a cow’s
milk to dry up entirely, without doing her hurt. In
this manner, therefore, the profits of a dairy might be
wonderfully diminished ; so that it much behoves the
owner of it to be extremely attentive to this circum¬
stance, if he wishes to avoid ruin. It ought to be a
rule without an exception, never to allow this important
department to be entrusted, without controul, to the
management of hired servants. Its importance will be
still more manifest from the following aphorisms.
Aphorism I. “ Of the milk that is drawn from any
cow at one time, that which comes off at the first is al¬
ways thinner, and of a much worse quality, than that
which comes afterwards ; and the richness goes on con¬
tinually increasing to the very last drop that can be
drawn from the udder at that time.”
Few persons are ignorant that the milk which is last
of ail taken from the cow at milking (in this country
called stroakings) is richer than the rest of the milk ;
but fewer still are aware of the greatness of the dispro¬
portion between the quality of the first and the last
drawn milk, from the same cow, at one milking. The
following facts (says our author) respecting this circum¬
stance were ascertained by me many years ago, and
have been confirmed by many subsequent experiments
and observations.
Having taken several large tea-cups, exactly of the
same size and shape, one of these tea-cups was filled at
the beginning of the milking, and the others at regular
intervals, till the last, which was filled with the dregs
of the stroakings. These cups were then weighed, the
weight of each having been settled, so as to ascertain
that the quantity of milk in each was precisely the
same ; and from a great number of experiments fre¬
quently repeated with many different cows, the result
was in all cases as follows :
First, The quantity of cream obtained from the first-
drawn cup was, in every case, much smaller than from
that which was last drawn ; and those between afforded
less or more as they were nearer the beginning or the
end. It is unnecessary here to specify these intermedi¬
ate proportions ; but it is proper the reader should be
informed that the quantity of cream obtained from the
last-drawn cup, from some cows, exceeded that from
the first in the proportion of sixteen to one. In other
cows, however, and in particular circumstances, the dis¬
proportion was not quite so great; but in no case did it
fall short of the rate of eight to one. Probably, upon
an average of a great many cows, it might be found to
run as ten or twelve to one.
3,
Secondly, The difierence in the quality of the cream, Manage-
however, obtained from these two cups, was much ment of the
greater than the difierence in the quantity. In the first ^by-
cup, the cream was a thin tough film, thinner, and per-
haps whiter, than writing paper ; in the last, the cream
was of a thick butyrous consistence, and of a glowing
richness of colour that no other kind of cream is ever
found to possess.
Thirdly, The difference in the quality of the milk
that remained, after the cream was sepax-ated, was per¬
haps still greater than either in respect to the quantity
or the quality of the cream. The milk in the first cup
was a thin bluish liquid, as if a very large proportion of
water had been mixed with ordinary milk ; that in the
last cup was of a thick consistence, and yellow colour,
more resembling cream than milk both in taste and ap¬
pearance.
From this important experiment, it appears that the
person who, by bad milking of his cows, loses but half
a pint of his milk, loses in fact about as much cream as
would be afforded by six or eight pints of the begin¬
ning, and loses, besides, that part of the cream which
alone can give richness and high flavour to his butter.
Aphorism 2. “ If milk be put into a dish, and allowed
to stand till it throws up cream, that portion of cream
which rises first to the surface is richer in quality, and
greater in quantity, than what rises in a second equal
space of time ; and the cream that rises in the second in¬
terval of time is greater in quantity, and richer in qua¬
lity, than that which rises in a third equal space of time;
that of the third than the fourth, and so on : the cream
that rises decreasing in quantity, and declining in qua¬
lity, continually, as long as any rises to the surface.”
Our ingenious author confesses, that his experiments
not having been made with so much accuracy in this
case as in the former, he was not enabled to ascertain
the difference in the proportion that takes place in
equal portions of time ; but they have been so often re¬
peated as not to leave any-room to doubt the fact, and
it will be allowed to be a fact of no small importance in
the management of the dairy. It is not certain, how¬
ever, but that a greater quantity of cream may, upon
the whole, be obtained from the milk by taking it
away at different times: but the process is so trouble¬
some as not to be counterbalanced by the increased quan¬
tity obtained, if indeed an increased quantity be thus
obtained, which is not as yet quite certain.
Aphorism 3. “ Thick milk always throws up a smaller
proportion of the cream it actually contains, to the sur¬
face, than milk that is thinner; but that cream is of a
richer quality. If water be added to that thick milk,
it will afford a considerably greater quantity of cream
than it would have done if allowed to remain pure, but
its quality is, at the same time, greatly debased.”
This is a fact that every person attentive to a dairy
must have remarked; but I have never (says our author)
heard of any experiment that could ascertain, either the
precise amount of the increased quantity of cream that
might thus be obtained, or of the ratio in the decrease
of its quality. The effects of mixing water with the
milk in a dairy are at least ascertained ; and the know¬
ledge of the fact will enable attentive persons to follow
that practice which they think will best promote their
own interest.
Aphorism 4. “ Milk which is put into a bucket or
other
Part III. • A G R I C U
Manage- other proper vessel, and carried in it to any consider-
ment of the able distance, so as to be much agitated, and in part
Dail'-V- , cooled, before it be put into the milk-pans to settle for
v cream, never throws up so much, nor so rich cream, as
it the same milk had been put into the milk-pans di¬
rectly after it was milked.”
In this case, it is believed the loss of cream will be
nearly in proportion to the time that has elapsed, and
the agitation the milk has sustained, after being drawn
from the cow. But Dr Anderson says that he is not
yet in possession of any experiments which sufficiently
ascertain how much is to be ascribed to the time, and
the agitation, taken separately. On every branch of
agriculture we find experiments wanting, at each step
we advance in our inquiries ; and it is the duty of eve¬
ry inquirer to point out, as he goes along, where they
are wanted, since the labours of no one man can possi¬
bly complete the whole.
From the above tacts, the following corollaries seem
to be clearly deducible :
First, It is of importance that the cows should be
always milked as near the dairy as possible, to prevent
the necessity of carrying and cooling the milk before it
is put into the dishes j and as cows are much hurt by
far driving, it must be a great advantage in a dairy-
farm to have the principal grass fields as near the dairy
or homestead as possible.
Secondly, The practice of putting the milk of all the
cows of a large dairy into one vessel, as it is milked,
there to remain till the whole milking is finished, before
any part of it is put into the milk-pans—seems to be
highly injudicious ; not only on account of the loss that
is sustained by agitation and cooling, but also, more
especially, because it prevents the owner of the dairy
from distinguishing the good from the bad cow’s milk,
so as to separate these from each other, where it is ne¬
cessary. He may thus have the whole of his dairy pro¬
duct greatly debased by the milk of one bad cow, for
years together, without being able to discover it. A
better practice, therefore, will be, to have the milk
drawn from each cow put separately into the creaming-
pans as soon as it is milked, without being ever mixed
with any other. Thus would the careful manager of
the dairy be able on all occasions to observe the parti¬
cular quality of each individual cow’s milk, as well as
its quantity, and to know with precision which of his
cows it was his interest to dispose of, and which of them
he ought to keep and breed from.
Thirdly, If it be intended to make butter of a very
fine quality, it will be advisable in all cases to keep the
milk that is first drawn separate from that which comes
last; as it is obvious, that if this be not done, the qua¬
lity of the butter will be greatly debased, without much
augmenting its quantity. It is also obvious, that if this
is done, the quality of the butter will be improved in
proportion to the smallness of the quantity of the first
drawn milk that is retained j so that those who wish to
be singularly nice in this respect, will do well to retain
only a very small portion of the first drawn milk.
To those owners of dairies who have profit only in
view, it must ever be a matter of trial and calculation,
how far it is expedient for them to carry the improving
of the quality of their butter at the expence of dimi¬
nishing its quantity. In different situations prudence
will point out different kinds of practice as most eli-
L T U R E.
499
gible $ and all persons must be left, after making accu- Manage-
rate trials, to determine for themselves. It is likewise ment of the
a consideration of no small importance, to determine in Dairy,
what way the inferior milk, that is thus to be set apart ^
where fine butter is wanted, can be employed with the
greatest profit. In the Highlands of Scotland they
have adopted, without thinking of the improvement of
their butter, a very simple and economical practice in
this respect. As the rearing of calves is there a prin¬
cipal object with the farmer, every cow is allowed to
suckle her own calf with a part of her milk, the remain¬
der only being employed in the dairy. To give the
calf its portion regularly, it is separated from the cow,
and kept in an inclosure, with all the other calves be-
longing to the same farm. At regular times, the cows
are driven to the door of the inclosure, where the young
calves fail not to meet them. Each calf is then sepa¬
rately let out, and runs directly to its mother, where it
sucks till the dairy-maid judges it has had enough *, she
then orders it to be driven away, having previouslv
shackled the hinder legs of the mother, by a very sim¬
ple contrivance, to oblige her to stand still. Boys drive
away the calf with switches, and return it to the inclo¬
sure, while the dairy-maid milks off what was left by
the calf: thus they proceed till the whole of the cows
are milked. They obtain only a small quantity of
milk, it is true, but that milk is of an exceeding rich
quality ; which, in the hands of such of the inhabitants
as know how to manage it, is manufactured into the
richest marrowy butter that can be anywhere met with.
This richness of the Highland butter is universally
ascribed to the old grass the cows feed upon in their
remote glens; but it is in fact chiefly to be attributed
to the practice here described, which has long prevailed
in those regions. Whether a similar practice could be
economically adopted elsewhere, our author takes not
upon him to say 5 but doubtless other secondary uses
might be found for the milk of inferior quality. On
some occasions, it might he converted into butter of an
inferior quality j on other occasions, it might be sold
sweet, where the situation of the farm was within reach
of a market town } and on others, it might be convert¬
ed into cheeses, which, by being made of sweet milk,
would be of a very fine quality if carefully made.
Still other uses might be devised for its application ;
of which the following is worthy of notice. Take
common skimmed milk, when it has begun to turn sour,
put it into an upright stand-churn, or a barrel with one
of its ends out, or any other convenient vessel. Heat
some water, and pour it into a tub that is large enough
to contain with ease the vessel into which the milk was
put. Set the vessel containing the milk into the hot
water, and let it remain there for the space of one
night. In the morning it will be found that the milk
has separated into two parts ; a thick cream-like sub¬
stance, which occupies the upper part of the vessel, and
a thin watery part that remains at the bottom. Draw'
oft the thin part (called in Scotland wigg) by opening
a stop-cock, placed for that purpose close above the
bottom, and reserve the cream for use. Not much less
than half of the milk is thus converted into a sort of
cream, which, when well made, seems to he as rich and
fat as real cream itself, and is only distinguished from
it by its sourness. It is eaten with sugar, and esteemed
a great delicacy, and usually sells at double the price
3 R 2 of
Dairy.
500
Manage- of fresh unskimmed milk,
ment of the ever to be able to make this nicely ; the degree of the
heat of the water, and many other circumstances, great¬
ly affecting the operation.
Fourthly, If the quality of the butter be the chief
object attended to, it will be necessary, not only to se¬
parate the first from the last drawn milk, but also to
take nothing but the cream that is first separated from
the best milk, as it is this first rising cream alone that
is of the prime quality. The remainder of the milk,
which will be still sweet, may be either employed for
the purpose of making sweet-milk cheeses, or may be
allowed to stand, to throw up cream for making butter
of an inferior quality, as circumstances may direct.
Fifthly, From the above facts, we are enabled to
perceive, that butter of the very best possible quality
can only be obtained from a dairy of considerable ex¬
tent, judiciously managed \ for when only a small por¬
tion of each cow’s milk can be set apart for throwing
up cream, and when only a small proportion of that
cream can be reserved, of the prime quality, it follows
(the quantity of milk being upon the whole very in¬
considerable), that the quantity of prime cream pro¬
duced would be so small as to be scarcely worth manu¬
facturing separately.
Sixthly, From these premises we are also led to draw
another conclusion, extremely different from the opi¬
nion that is commonly entertained on this subject, viz.
That it seems probable, that the very best butter could
be made with economy in those dairies only where the
manufacture of cheese is the principal object. The rea¬
sons are obvious : If only a small portion of milk should
be set apart for butter, all tbe rest may be made into
cheese, while it is yet warm from tbe cow, and perfect¬
ly sweet *, and if only that portion of cream which rises
during the first three or four hours after milking is to
be reserved for butter, the rich milk which is left after
that cream is separated, being still perfectly sweet, may
be converted into cheese with as great advantage near¬
ly as the newly-milked milk itself.
But as it is not probable that many persons could be
found who would be Avilling to purchase the very finest
butter, made in the manner above pointed out, at a
price that would be sufficient to indemnify the farmer
for his trouble in making it, these hints are thrown out
merely to shew the curious in what way butter posses¬
sing this superior degree of excellence may be obtain¬
ed, if they choose to be at the expence ; but for an ordi¬
nary market, Dr Anderson is satisfied, from experience
and attentive observation, that if in general about the
first drawn half of the milk be separated at each milk¬
ing, and the remainder only set up for producing cream,
and if that milk be allowed to stand to throw up the
whole of its cream (even till it begins sensibly to taste
sourish), and that cream be afterwards carefully mana¬
ged, the butter thus obtained will be of a quality great¬
ly superior to what can usually be procured at market,
and its quality not considerably less than if the whole
of the milk had been treated alike. This, therefore, is
the practice that he thinks most likely to suit the fru¬
gal farmer, as his butter, though of a superior quality,
could be afforded at a price that would always ensure
it a rapid sale.
Our author now proceeds to enumerate the proper¬
ties of a dairy. The milk-house ought to be cool in
2
573
Dairy de¬
scribed.
.AGRICULTURE. Practice.
It requires practice, how- summer and warm in winter; so that an equal tern- Manage-
perature may be preserved throughout the year. It ment of the
ought also to be dry, so as to admit of being kept Daify-
sweet and clean at all times. A separate building
should be erected for the purpose, near a cool spring
or running water, where the cows may have easy ac¬
cess to it, and where it is not liable to be incommo¬
ded by stagnant water. The apartment where the
milk stands should be well thatched, have thick walls,
and a ventilator in the top for admitting a free circu¬
lation of air. There should also be an apartment with
a fire-place and caldron, for the purpose of scalding
and cleaning the vessels. The doctor is of opinion, that
the temperature of from 50 to 55 degrees is the most
proper for separating the cream from the milk, and by
proper means this might easily be kept up, or nearly
so, both summer and winter. ^ j
The utensils of the dairy should be all made of wood, Wooden
in preference either to lead, copper,‘or even cast iron.utensils
These metals are all very easily soluble in acids 5 ^preferable
solutions of the two first highly poisonous *, and though oufer^md
the latter is innocent, the taste of it might render the
products highly disagreeable.
Butter, though used at present as food in most coun-
tries of Europe, was not known, or known very im-butter,
perfectly, to the ancients. This, we think, is com¬
pletely proved by Professor Beckmann in the second vo¬
lume of his History of Inventions. In our translation of
the Hebrew Scripture, there is indeed frequent mention
made of butter at very early periods ; but, as the Pro¬
fessor well observes, the greatest masters of biblical cri¬
ticism unanimously agree, that the word so translated
signifies milk or cream, or sour thick milk, and cannot
possibly mean what we call butter. The word plainly
alludes to something liquid, which was used for wash¬
ing the feet, which was drunk, and which had some¬
times the power of intoxicating 5 and we know that
mares milk may be so prepared as to produce the same
effect. See Koumiss.
The oldest mention of butter, the Professor thinks,
is in the account of the Scythians given by Herodotus
(lib. iv. 2.), who says, that “ these people pour the
milk of their mares into wooden vessels, cause it to be
violently stirred or shaken by their blind slaves, and
separate the part which arises to the surface, as they
consider it as more valuable and delicious than what
is collected below it.” That this substance must have
been a soft kind of butter, is well known \ and Hip¬
pocrates gives a similar account of Scythian butter,
and calls it 7r<KS§<ev, which Galen translates by the
woi’d fiovlvfov. The poet Anaxandrides, who lived
soon after Hippocrates, describing the marriage-feast
of Iphicrates, who married the daughter of Cotys king
of Thrace, says, that the Thracians ate butter, which
the Greeks at that time considered as a wonderful kind
of food.
Dioscorides says, that good butter was prepared from
the fattest milk, such as that of sheep or goats, by sha¬
king it in a vessel till the fat was separated. To this
butter he ascribes the same effects, when used external¬
ly, as those produced by our butter at present. He
adds also, and he is the first writer who makes the ob¬
servation, that fresh butter might be melted and pour¬
ed over pulse and vegetables instead of oil, and that it
might be employed in pastry in the room of other fajt
substances.
—
Part HI. A G R I C
Manage- substances. A kind of soot likewise was at that time
ment ef the prepared from butter for external applications, which
Dairy- was used in curing inflammation of the eyes and other
disorders. For this purpose the butter was put into a
lamp, and when consumed, the lamp was again filled till
the desired quantity of soot was collected in a vessel
placed over it.
Galen, who distinguishes and confirms in a more ac¬
curate manner the healing virtues of butter, expressly
remarks, that cows milk produces the fattest butter j
that butter made from sheep’s or goats milk is less rich ;
and that asses milk yields the poorest. He expresses
his astonishment, therefore, that Dioscorides should say
that butter was made only from the milk of sheep and
goats. He assures us that he had seen it made from
cows milk, and that he believes it had thence acquired
its name. “ Butter (says he) may be vei*y properly
employed for ointments', and when leather is besmear¬
ed with it, the same purpose is answered as when it is
rubbed over with oil. In cold countries, which do not
produce oil, butter is used in the baths ; and that it is
a real fat, may be readily perceived by its catching fire
when poured over burning coals.” What has been
here said is sufficient to shew that butter must have been
very little known to or used by the Greeks and Homans
in the time of Galen, that is, at the end of the second
century.
The professor having collected, in chronological or¬
der, every thing which he could find in the works of
the ancients respecting butter, concludes, that it is not
a Grecian, and much less a Roman invention, but that
the Greeks were made acquainted with it by the Scy¬
thians, the Thracians, and the Phrygians, and the Ro¬
mans by the people of Germany. He is likewise de¬
cidedly of opinion, that when these two polished nations
had learnt the art of making it, they used it not as
food, but only as an ointment, or sometimes as a medi¬
cine. “ We never fjnd it (says he) mentioned by Ga¬
len and others as a food, though they have spoken of it
as applicable to other purposes. No notice is taken of
it by Apicius j nor is there any thing said of it in that
respect by the authors who treat on agriculture, though
they have given us very particular information concern¬
ing milk, cheese, and oil.”
The ancient Christians of Egypt burnt butter in their
lamps instead of oil", and in the Roman churches, it
was anciently allowed, during Christmas time, to burn
butter instead of oil, on account of the great consump*
$)6 tion of it otherwise.
Qualities Butter is the fat, oily, and inflammable part of the
milk. This kind of oil is naturally distributed through
all the substance of the milk in very small particles j
which are interposed betwixt thecaseousand serous parts,
amongst which it is suspended by a slight adhesion, but
without being dissolved. It is in the same state in which
oil is in emulsions: hence the same whiteness of milk
and emulsions ; and hence, by rest, the oily parts se¬
parate from both these liquors to the surface, and form
a cream. See Emulsion.
When butter is in the state of cream, its proper oily
parts are not yet sufficiently united together to form a
homogeneous mass. They are still half separated by
the interposition of a pretty large quantity of serous
and caseous particles. The butter is completely form¬
ed by pressing out these heterogeneous parts by means
of continued percussion,
soft mass.
Gutter.
U L T U R E. 50 r
It then becomes an uniform Manage¬
ment of the.
Fresh butter, which has undergone no change, has Dairy,
scarcely any smell ; its taste is mild and agreeable, it * " v
melts with a weak heat, and none of its principles are
disengaged by the heat of boiling water. Those pro¬
perties prove, that the oily part of butter is of the na¬
ture of the fat, fixed, and mild oils obtained from many
vegetable substances by expression. See Oils.—The
half fluid consistence of butter, as of most other concrete
oily matters, is thought to be owing to a considerable
quantity of acid united with the oily part 5 which acid
is so well combined, that it is not perceptible while the
butter is fresh, and has undergone no change 5 but when
it grows old, and undergoes some kind of fermentation,,
then the acid is disengaged more and more y and this is
the cause that butter, like oils of the same kind, becomes
rancid by age.
Butter is constantly used in food, from its agreeable
taste •, but to be wholesome, it must be very fresh and
free from rancidity, and also not fried or burnt 5 other¬
wise its acrid and even caustic acid, being disengaged,
disorders digestion, renders it difficult and painful, ex¬
cites acrid empyreumatic belchings, and introduces much
acrimony into the blood. Some persons have stomachs
so delicate, that they are even affected with these incon¬
veniences by fresh butter and milk. This observation
is also applicable to oil, fat, chocolate, and in general to
all oleaginous matters.
Dr James Anderson, whom we have already quoted,
gives the following minute directions for making and
preserving butter. The creaming dishes, when pro-Rules for
perly cleaned, sweet, and cool, ought to be filled with making
the milk as soon as it is drawn from the cow, having butter,
been first carefully strained through a cloth, or close
strainer made of hair or wire : the doctor prefers silver
wire to every other. The creaming dishes ought never
to exceed three inches in depth *, but they may be so
broad as to contain a gallon and a half j when filled
they ought to be put on the shelves of the milk-house,
and remain there until the cream be fully separated.
If the finest butter be intended, the milk ought not to
stand above six or eight hours, but for ordinary butter
it may stand 12 hours or more 5 yet if the dairy be
very large, a sufficient quantity of cream will be sepa¬
rated in two, three, or four hours, for making the best
butter. It is then to be taken off as nicely as possible
by a skimming dish, without lifting any of the milk ;
and immediately after put into a vessel by itself, until
a proper quantity for churning be collected. A firm,
neat, wooden barrel seems well adapted for this purpose,
open at one end, and having a lid fitted to close it. A
cock or spigot ought to be fixed near the bottom, to
draw off any thin or serous part which may drain from
the cream; the inside of the opening should be covered
with a bit of fine silver wire gauze, in order to keep
back the cream while the serum is allowed to pass ; and
the barrel should be inclined a little on its stand, to air
low the whole to run off.
The doctor contradicts the opinion that very fins Cream
butter cannot be obtained, except from cream that is ought to
not above a day old. On the contrary, he insists that’,e
it is only in very few cases that even tolerably g00dbefo~e p be,
butter can be obtained from cream that is not above ma(je .
one day old. The separation of butter from cream butter
only
573
Of the
chum.
502 A G R I C U
Manage- only takes place after the cream has attained a cer-
ment of the tain degree of acidity. If it be agitated before that
Dairy. acidity has begun to take place, no butter can be ob-
'r~" ' tained, and the agitation must be continued till the
time that the sourness is produced ; after which the
butter begins to form. “ In summer, wliile the cli-
mature is warm, the beating may be, without very
much difficulty, continued until the acidity be pro¬
duced, so that butter may be got: but in this case the
process is long and tedious ; and the butter is for the
most part of a soft consistence, and tough and gluey to
the touch. If this process be attempted during the
cold weather in winter, butter can scarcely be in any
way obtained, unless by the application of some great
degree of heat, which sometimes assists in producing a
very inferior kind of butter, white, hard, and brittle,
and almost unfit for any culinary purpose whatever.
The judicious farmer, therefore, will not attempt to
imitate this practice, but will allow his cream to remain
in the vessel appropriated for keeping it, until it has ac¬
quired the proper degree of acidity. There is no rule
for determining how long it is to be kept j but our au¬
thor is of opinion, that a very great latitude is allowable
in this case ; and that if no serous matter be allowed to
lodge among the cream, it may be kept good for mak¬
ing butter a great many weeks.
The churn in which butter is made likewise admits
of considerable diversity \ but our author prefers the
old-fashioned upright churn to all others, on account
of its being more easily cleaned. The labour, when
the cream is properly prepared, he thinks, very trifling.
Much greater nicety, he says, is required in the pro¬
cess of churning than most people are aware of; as
a few hasty and irregular strokes will render butter bad,
which otherwise would have been of the finest quality.
After the process is over, the whole ought to be sepa¬
rated from the milk, and put into a clean dish, the in¬
side of which, if made of wood, ought to be well rub¬
bed with common salt, to prevent the butter from ad¬
hering to it. The butter should be pressed and worked
with a flat wooden ladle or skimming dish, having a
short handle, so as to force out all the milk that was
lodged in the cavities of the mass. This operation re¬
quires a considerable degree of strength as well as dex¬
terity 5 but our author condemns the beating up of the
butter with the hand as “ an indelicate and barbarous
practice.” In like manner he condemns the employ¬
ing of cold water in this operation, to wash the butter
as it is called. Thus, he says, the quality of it is de¬
based in an astonishing degree. If it is too soft, it may
be put into small vessels, and these allowed to swim in
a tub of cold water: but the water ought never to
touch the butter. The beating should be continued till
the milk be thoroughly separated, but not till the butter
become tough and gluey; and after this is completely
done, it is next to be salted. The vessel into which
it is to be put must be well seasoned with boilifig wa¬
ter several times poured into it: the inside is to be
rubbed over with common salt, and a little melted but¬
ter poured into the cavity between the bottom and
sides so as to make it even with the bottom j and it is
then fit for receiving the butter. Instead of common
_ 5*1 salt alone, the doctor recommends the following com-
for preserv-P08^’00, “ Take of sugar one part, of nitre one part,
ing butter, and of the best Spanish great salt, two parts. Beat the
580
Butter
ought HOt
to be put
into water.
L T U R E. Practice
whole into a fine powder, mix them well together, and Man
put them by for use. One ounce of this is to bementofth
thoroughly mixed with a pound of butter as soon as it Dairy,
is freed from the milk, and then immediately put into
the vessel designed to hold it j after which it must be
pressed so close as to leave no air-holes ; the surface is
to be smoothed and covered with a piece oflinen, and
over that a piece of wet parchment; or, in defect of
this last, fine linen that has been dipped in melted but¬
ter, exactly fitted to the edges of the vessel all round,
in order to exclude the air as much as possible. When
quite full, the cask is to be covered in like manner,
and a little melted butter put round the edges, in order
to fill up effectually every cranny, and .totally to ex¬
clude the air. “ If all this (says the doctor) be care¬
fully done, the butter may be kept perfectly sound in
this climate for many years. How many years I can¬
not tell j but I have seen it two years old, and in every
respect as sweet and sound as when only a month old.
It deserves to be remarked, that butter cured in this
manrier does not taste well till it has stood at least a
fortnight after being salted } but after that period is
elapsed, it eats with a rich marrowy taste that no other
butter ever acquires ; and it tastes so little salt, that a
person who had been accustomed to eat butter cured
with common salt only, -would not imagine it had got
one-fourth part of the salt necessary to preserve it.”
Our author is of opinion, that strong brine may be use¬
ful to pour upon the surface during the time it is using,
in order the more effectually to preserve it from the air,
and to avoid rancidity. -sz
As butter contains a quantity of mucilaginous mat- To prepare
ter, much more putrescible than the pure oily part, our k1111®1, lor
author recommends the purifying it from this mucilage
by melting in a conical vessel, in which the mucilage mateSi
will fall to the bottom j the pure oily part swimming
at top. This will be useful when butter is to be sent a
long voyage to warm climates, as the pure part will
keep much better than when mixed with the other.
He proposes another method of preserving butter, viz. Preserved
by mixing it with honey, which is very antiseptic, and by honey
mixes intimately with the butter. Thus mixed, it eats
very pleasantly, and may perhaps be successfully used
with a medicinal intention.
In England no butter is esteemed equal to that which Epping but-
is made in the county of Essex, well known by the ter.
name of Epping butter, and which in every season of
the year yields at London a much higher price than any
other. The following directions concerning the mak¬
ing and management of butter, including the Epping
method, are extracted from the 3d volume of the Bath
Society Papers.
In general it is to be observed, that the greater the
quantity made from a few cows, the greater will be the
farmer’s profit: therefore he should never keep any
but what are esteemed good milkers. A bad cow will
be equally expensive in her keep, and will not perhaps
(by the butter and cheese that is made from her) bring
in more than from three to six pounds a-year j whereas
a good one will bring from seven to ten pounds per an¬
num : therefore it is obvious that bad cows should be
parted with, and good ones purchased in their room.
When such are obtained, a good servant should be . j
employed to milk them 5 as through the neglect and
mismanagement of servants, it frequently happens that
the
Part III.
AGRICULTURE.
503
Manage- the best cows are spoiled. No farmer should trust en-
ment of the tirely to servants, but sometimes see themselves that
, their cows are milked clean \ for if any milk is suffer-
ed to remain in the udder, the cow will daily give Jess,
till at length she will become dry before the proper
time, and the next season she will scarce give milk suf¬
ficient to pay for her keep.
It sometimes happens that some of a cow’s teats may
be scratched or wounded so as to produce foul or cor¬
rupted milk ; when this is the case, we should by no
means mix it with the sweet milk, but give it to the
pigs ; and that which is conveyed to the dairy-house
should remain in the pail till it is nearly cool, before
it be strained, that is, if the weather be warm ; but
in frosty weather, it should be immediately strained,
and a small quantity of boiling water may be mixed
with it, which will cause it to produce cream in abun¬
dance, and the more so if the pans or vats have a large
surface.
During the hot summer months, it is right to rise
with or before the sun, that the cream may be skim¬
med from the milk ere the dairy becomes warm j nor
should the milk, at that season, stand longer in the
vats, &c. than 24 hours, nor be skimmed in the even¬
ing till after sunset. In winter milk may remain un¬
skimmed for 36 or 48 hours. The cream should be de¬
posited in a deep pan, which should be kept during the
summer in the coolest part of the dairy ; or in a cool
cellar where a free air is admitted, which is still bet¬
ter. Where people have not an opportunity of churn¬
ing every other day, they should shift the cream daily
into clean pans, which will keep it cool, but they should
never fail to churn at least twice in the week in hot
weather ; and this work should be done in a morning
before the sun appears, taking care to fix the chum
where there is a free draught of air. If a pump churn
be to be used, it may be plunged a foot deep into a tub
of cold water, and should remain there during the whole
time of churning, which will very much harden the but¬
ter. A strong rancid flavour will be given to butter, if
we churn so near the fire as to heat the wood in the
winter season.
After the butter is churned, it should be immediate¬
ly washed in many different waters till it is perfectly
cleansed from the milk-, but here it must be remarked,
that a warm hand will soften it, and make it appear
greasy, so that it will be impossible to obtain the best
price for it. The cheesemongers use two pieces of
wood for their butter j and if those who have a very
hot hand were to have such, they might work the but¬
ter so as to make it more saleable.
The Epping butter is made up for market in long
rolls, weighing a pound each ; in the county of Somer¬
set, they dish it in half pounds for sale; but if they
forget to rub salt round the inside of the dish, it will
be difficult to work it so as to make it appear hand¬
some.
Butter will require and endure more working in
winter than in summer j but it is remarked, that no
person whose hand is warm by nature makes good
butter.
Those who use a pump-churn must endeavour to
keep a regular stroke ; nor should they admit any per¬
son to assist them, except they keep nearly the same
stroke : for if they churn more slowly, the butter will
in the winter go back, as it is called; and if the stroke Manage-
be more quick and violent in the summer, it will cause ment of the
a fermentation, by which means the butter will imbibe Dairy.
a very disagreeable flavour. y——»
Where people keep many cows, a barrel-churn is
to be preferred ; hut if this be not kept very clean,
the bad effects will he discovered in the butter; nor
must we forget to shift the situation of the churn when
we use it, as the seasons alter, so as to fix it in a warm
place in winter, and where there is a free air in sum¬
mer.
In many parts of this kingdom they colour their but¬
ter in winter, but this adds nothing to its goodness ;
and it rarely happens that the farmers in or near Ep¬
ping use any colour ; but when they do, it is very inno¬
cent. They procure some sound carrots, whose juice
they express through a sieve, and mix with the cream
when it enters the churn, which makes it appear like
May butter ; nor do they at any time use much salt,
though a little is absolutely necessary.
As they make in that county but very little cheese,
so of course very little whey butter is made ; nor indeed
should any person make it, except for present use, as
it will not keep good more than two days; and the
whey will turn to better account to fatten pigs with.
Nothing feeds these faster, nor will any thing make
them so delicately white ; at the same time it is to be
observed, that no good bacon can be made from pigs
thus fatted. Where much butter is made, good cheese
for servants may be obtained from skimmed milk, and
the whey will afterwards do for store pigs. ^
The foregoing rules will suffice for making good West of
butter in any country ; but as some people are partial England
to the west country method, it shall be described as
briefly as possible. - butter.
In the fi rst place, theydeposite their milk in earthen
pans in their dairy-house, and (after they have stood
twelve hours in the summer, and double that space in
the winter) they remove them to stoves made for that
purpose, which stoves are filled with hot embers ; on
these they remain till bubbles rise, and the cream changes
its colour; it is then deemed heated enough, and this
they call scalded cream ; it is afterwards removed stea¬
dily to the dairy, where it remains 12 hours more, and
is then skimmed from the milk, and put into a tub or
churn : if it be put into a tub, it is beat well with the
hand, and thus they obtain butter; but a cleanlier way
is to make use of a churn. Some scald it over the fire,
but then the smoke is apt to aflect it ; and in either
case, if the pans touch the fire, they will crack or fly, ,
and the milk and cream will be wasted. ^
The Cambridgeshire salt butter is held in the highest Cambridge-
esteem, and is made nearly after the same method as shire but-
the Epping ; and by washing and working the saltter‘
from it, the cheesemongers in London often sell it at a
high price for fresh butter. They deposite it when
made into wooden tubs or firkins, which they expose to
the air for two or three weeks, and often wash them ;
but a readier way is to season them with unslaked lime,
or a large quantity of salt and water well boiled will
do ; with this they must be scrubbed several times, and
afterwards thrown into cold water, where they should
remain three or four days, or till they are wanted;
then they should be scrubbed as before, and well rinsed
with cold water; but before they receive the butter,
care -
5°4-
AGRICULTURE.
Practice.
Manage- care mast be taken to rub every part of the firkin with
ment of the salt: then, If the butter be properly made, and perfect-
L) airy, jy s^yeet, it may be gently pressed into the firkin ^ but
v it ixuist be well salted when it is made up, and the salt
should be equally distributed through the whole mass,
and a good handful of salt must be spread on the top
of the firkin before it is headed, after which the head
587 should be immediately put on. .
Yorkshire Xhey pursue nearly the same method in Snfiolk and
and Suffolk Yorkshire ; nor is the butter that is made in these coun-
bUttCl‘ ties much inferior to that made in Cambridgeshire j in¬
deed it is often sold in London for Cambridge butter :
and no people make more butter from their cows than
the Yorkshire farmers do, which is certainly owing to
the care they take of their cows in the winter *, as at
that season'they house them all, feed them with good
hay, and never suffer them to go out (except to water)
but when the weather is very serene •, and when their
cows calve, they give them comfortable malt meshes
for two or three days after; but these cows never an¬
swer if they are removed to other counties, except the
same care and attendance be given them, and then none
answer better. _ .
Land whereon cows feed does very olten attect the
butter. If wild garlic, charlock, or May-weed, be
found in a pasture ground, cows should not teed there¬
in till after they have been mown, when such pernici¬
ous plants will appear no more till the following spring }
but those cows that give milk must not partake of the
hay made therefrom, as that will also diffuse its bad
t qualities.
Great part of the Epping butter is made from cows
that feed during the summer months in Epping 1 orest,
where the leaves and shrubby plants contribute greatly
to the flavour of the butter. The mountains of Wales,
the highlands of Scotland, and all the moors, commons,
and heaths in England, produce excellent butter wheie
it is properly managed 5 and though not equal in quan¬
tity, yet far superior in quality to that which is produced
from the richest meadows j and the land is olten blamed
when the butter is bad through mismanagement, sluttish¬
ness, or inattention.
Turnips and rape affect milk and butter, but brewers
grains are sweet and wholesome food, and will make
cows give abundance of milk} yet the cream thereon
will be thin, except good hay be given at the same time,
after every meal of grains. Coleworts and cabbages
are also excellent foods } and if these and savoys were
cultivated for this purpose, the farmers in general would
find their account in it.
Cows should never be suffered to drink improper wa¬
ter ; stagnated pools, wrater wherein frogs, spawn,
common sewers, and ponds that receive the drainings of
. , stables, are improper.
Traud* in Divers abuses are committed in the packing and salt-
the sale of ing of butter, to increase its bulk and weight, against
butter. which we have a statute express. Pots are frequently
laid with good butter for a little depth at the top, and
with bad at the bottom j sometimes the butter is set in
rolls, only touching at top, and standing hollow at bot¬
tom. To prevent these cheats, the factors at Utoxeter
keep a surveyor, who, in case of suspicion, tiies the
pots with an iron instrument called a butter-bore, made
like a cheese-taster, to be stuck in obliquely to the bot¬
tom.
In the Annals of Agriculture, vol.xvii. the following Manage¬
mode of preventing butter and cream from receiving ament of the
taint from the cows feeding on cabbages and turnips is , I)mi'v' ,
stated by J. Jones,Esq. of Bolas-heath, Newport, Shrop- ^
shire. “ I find by experience (says he), that a smallHow butter
bit of saltpetre, powdered and put into the milk-pan, may be
with the new milk, does effectually prevent the cream
and butter from being tainted, although the cows
fed on the refuse leaves of cabbages and turnips. Iuanjtur.
the beginning of this last winter, my men were very nips.
careful in not giving to the cows any outside or decayed
leaves of the cabbages or turnips j yet the cream and
butter were sadly tainted : but as soon as the maid used
the saltpetre, all the taint was done away •, and after¬
wards no care rvas taken in feeding the cows, for they
had cabbages and turnips in all states. Our milk-pans
hold about nine pints of milk.”
The trade in butter is very considerable. Some com- Extent of
-pute 50,000 tons annually consumed in London. It is the butter
chiefly made within 40 miles round the city. Fifty trade,
thousand firkins are said to be sent yearly from Cam¬
bridge and Suffolk alone j each firkin containing 56 lbs.
Utoxeter, in Staffordshire, is a market famous for good
butter, insomuch, that the London merchants have esta¬
blished a factory there for that article. It is bought by
the pot, of a long cylindrical form, weighing 14 lbs. ^
The other grand object of the dairy is cheese-mak- Cheese de*
ing. Cheese is the curd of milk, precipitated or se-scribed,
parated from the whey by an acid. Cheese differs in
quality according as it is made from new or skimmed
milk, from the curd which separates spontaneously up¬
on standing, or that which is more speedily produced
by the addition of runnet. Cream also affords a kind oi
cheese, but quite fat and butyraceous, and which does
not keep long. Analyzed chemically, cheese appears
to partake much more of an animal nature than butter,
or the milk from which it was made. It is insoluble^ in
every liquid except spirit of nitre, and caustic alkaline
ley. Shaved thin, and properly treated with hot wa¬
ter, it forms a very strong cement if mixed with quick¬
lime *. When prepared with the hot water, it is re- * See CV-
commended in the Swedish Memoirs to he used hy merit.
anglers as a bait. It may be made into any form, is
not softened by the cold water, and the fishes are fond
of it. As a food, physicians condemn the too free use
of cheese. When new, it is extremely difficult of di¬
gestion : when old, it becomes acrid and hot $ and,
from Dr Percival’s experiments, is evidently of a sep¬
tic nature. It is a common opinion that old cheese di¬
gests every thing, yet is left undigested itself 3 but this
is without any solid foundation. Cheese made from the
milk of sheep digests sooner than that from the milk of
cows, but is less nourishing 3 that from the milk of
goats digests sooner than either, but is also the least
nourishing. In general, it is a kind of food fit only
for the laborious, or those whose organs of digestion
are strong.
Every country has places noted for this commodity:
thus Chester and Gloucester cheese are famous in Eng¬
land 3 and the Parmesan cheese is in no less repute
abroad, especially in France. This sort of cheese is
entirely made of sweet cow-milk : but at Rochefort in
Languedoc, they make it of ewes milk 3 and in other
places it is usual to add goat or ewes milk in a certain
proportion to that of the cow. There is likewise a
kind
™ 592
Making of
cheese.
Part III. A G R I C U
Manage- kind of medicated cheese made by intimately mixing
meat of the the expressed juice of certain herbs, as sage, baum,
DaiIT‘ mint, &c. with the curd before it is fashioned into a
cheese. The Laplanders make a sort of cheese of the
milk of their rein-deer; which is not only of great ser¬
vice to them as food, but on many other occasions. It
is a very common thing in these climates to have a
limb numbed and frozen with the cold: their remedy
for this is the heating an iron red hot, and thrusting it
through the middle of one of these cheeses $ they catch
what drops out, and with this anoint the limb, which
$oon x’ecovers. They are subject also to coughs and
diseases of the lungs, and these they cure by the same
sort of medicine: they boil a large quantity of the
cheese in the fresh deer’s milk, and drink the decoc¬
tion in large draughts warm several times a-day. They
make a less strong decoction of the same kind also,
which they use as their common drink, for three or
four days together, at several times of the year. They
do this to prevent the mischiefs they are liable to from
their water, which is otherwise their constant drink,
and is not good.
In making cheese the same precaution is to be ob¬
served as with regard to butter, viz. the milk ought
not to be agitated by carrying to any distance ; nor
ought the cows to be violently driven before they
are milked, which reduces the milk almost to the same
state as if agitated in a barrel or churn. To this
cause Mr Twamley, who has written a treatise upon
dairy management, attributes the great difficulty some¬
times met with in making the milk coagulate; four
or five hours being sometimes necessary instead of one
(the usual time employed) and even after all, the
curd will be of such a soft nature, that the cheese will
swell, puff up, and rent in innumerable places, without
ever coming to that solid consistence which it ought
to have. As this frequently happens in consequence
of heat, Mr Twamley advises to mix a little cold
spring water with the milk. It is a bad practice to
put in more runnet when the curd appears difficult to be
formed ; for this, after having once formed the curd by
the use of a certain quantity, will dissolve it again by
the addition of more.
General de- The most common defects of cheese are its appear-
fectsof ing when cut full of small holes called eyes ; its puffing
up, cracking, and pouring out quantities of thin serous
liquor j becoming afterwards rotten and full of mag¬
gots in those places from which the liquor issued. All
this, according to our author, proceeds from the for¬
mation of a substance called by him slip curd, a kind of
half coagulum, incapable of a thorough union with the
true curd, and which when broken into very small bits
produces eyes ; but if in larger pieces, occasions those
rents and cracks in the cheese already mentioned ; for
though this kind of curd retains its coagulated nature
for some time, it always sooner or latter dissolves into
a serous liquid. This kind of curd may be produced
i. By using the milk too hot. 2. By bad runnetl
3. By not allowing the curd a proper time to form.
The first of these is remedied by the use of cold water
which our author says is so far from being detrimental
to the quality of the cheese, that it really promotes
the action of the runnet upon the milk. The second
viz. a knowledge of good from bad runnet, can only
be acquired by long practice, and no particular direc-
vol. I. Part II. 4
593
clieese.
L T U R E. 5o5
tions can be given, farther than that the utmost care Manage-
must be taken that it have no putrid tendency, nor ment of the
any rancidity from too great heat in drying. The t^ahy.
only rule that can be given for its preparation is to
take out the maw ol a calf which has fed entirely uponofprepa-
milk 5 and if it is cold, swill it a little in water 3 rub it ring rim-
well with salt j then fill it with the saiRg. and after-net*
wards cover it. Some cut them open and spread iugm
in salt, putting them in layers above one another, let¬
ting them continue in the brine they produce, some¬
times stirring or turning them for four, six, or nine
months ; after which they are opened to dry, stretch¬
ed out upon sticks or splints. They -may be used im¬
mediately after being dried, though it is reckoned best
to keep them till they be a year old before they are
used. The best method of making the runnet from
the skins, according to our author, is the following:
“ Take pure spring water, in quantity proportioned
to the runnet you intend to make 3 it is thought best
by some two skins to a gallon of water 5 boil the wa¬
ter, which makes it softer or more pure: make it
with salt into brine that will swim an egg : then let it
stand till the heat is gone off to about the heat of
blood-warm 3 then put your maw-skin in, either cut
in pieces or whole 5 the former I should imagine best
or most convenient; letting it steep 24 hours, after
which it will be fit for use. Such quantity as is
judged necessary must then be put into the milk 5
about a tea-cupful being necessary for ten cows milk 3
though in this respect very particular directions cannot
be given.”
In the Bath Papers Mr Hazard gives the follow-jj^-
jng receipt for making runnet: “ When the maw-skin zard’s ie-
is well prepared and fit for the purpose, three pints oreeff,tf°r
two quarts of soft water, clean and sweet, should berunnet*
mixed with salt, wherein should be put sweet brier,
rose. leaves and flowers, cinnamon, cloves, mace,
and in short almost every sort of spice and aromatic
that can be procured 3 and if these are put into two
quarts of water, they must boil gently till the liquor
is reduced to three pints, and care should be taken that
this liquid is not smoked 3 it should be strained clear
from the spices, &c. and when found not to be1 warmer
than milk from the cow 3 it should be poured upon
the veil or maw 3 a lemon may then be sliced into it,
when it may remain a day or two ; after which it should
be strained again and put into a bottle, where, if well
corked, it will keep good for twelve months or more 5
it will smell like a perfume, and a small quantity of it
will turn the milk, and give the cheese a pleasing fla¬
vour.” He adds, that if the veil or maw be salted and
dried for a week or two near the fire, it will do for the
purpose again almost as well as before. -96
In the making of cheese, supposing the runnet to Particulars
be of a good quality, the following particulars mustto be ob'
be observed: 1. The proper degree of heat. Thissci7.a 1,1 f
ought to be what is called milk-warm, or, “ a few Cheese,
degrees removed from coolness,” according to Mr
Twamley 3 considerably below the heat of milk taken
from the cow. If too hot, it may be reduced to a
proper temperature by cold water, as already men¬
tioned. 2. The time allowed for the runnet to take
effect. This, our author observes ought never to be
less than an hour and a half. The process may be ac¬
celerated, particularly by putting salt to the milk be-
3 & fore
5°6
AGRICULTURE.
Practice.
Manage fore the runnet is added. Mr Twamley advises two
men* on he handfuls to ten or twelve cows milk ; but he assures
Dairy.
597
Different
Wnd* of
ekeese.
that no bad consequence can follow from the curd
being formed ever so soon : as it then only becomes
more solid and fit for making cheese of a proper qua¬
lity. 3. To prevent any difficulty in separating the
curd from the whey, prepare a long cheese-knife from
lath ; one edge being sharpened to cut the curd across
from top to bottom in the tub, crossing it with lines
checkerwise : by which means the whey rises through
the vacancies made by the knife, and the curd sinks
with much more ease. A sieve has been used with
success, in order to separate the whey perfectly from
the curd. 4. Having got the curd all firm at the bot¬
tom of the tub, take the whey from it j let it stand a
quarter of an hour to drain before you put it into
tbe vat to break it. If any bits of slip curd swim
among the whey, pour it all off together rather than
put it among the cheese, for the reasons already given.
Some dairy-women allow the curd to stand for two
hours j by which time it is become of so firm a nature
that no breaking is necessary: they have only to cut it
in slices, put it into the vat, and work it well by
squeezing thoroughly to make it sit close ; then put
k into the press. Our author, however, approves
more of the method of breaking the curd, as less apt
to make the cheese hard and horny. 5. When the
whey is of a white colour, it is a certain sign that the
curd has not subsided ; but if the method just now laid
down be followed, the whey will always be of a green
colour; indeed this colour of the whey is always a
certain criterion of the curd having been properly
managed. 6. The best method of preventing cheese
from heaving, is to avoid making the runnet too strong;
to take care that it be clean, and not tainted ; to be
certain that the curd is fully come, and not to stir it
before the air has had time to escape ; a quantity of
air being always discharged in this as in many other
chemical processes. 7. Cheese is very apt to split in
consequence of being “ salted within,” especially
when the vat is about half filled. In this case the
curd, though separated only in a small degree by the
salt, never closes or joins as it ought to do. Mr Twam¬
ley prefers salting in the milk greatly to this method.
8. Dry cracks in cheese are generally produced by
keeping curd from one meal to another, and let¬
ting the first become too stiff and hard before it is
mixed with the other. 9. Curdly or wrinkle-coated
cheese is caused by sour milk. Cheese made of cold
milk is apt to be hard, or to break and fly before the
knife. 10. £iuch coated cheese is caused by being
made too cold, as cheese that is made in wdnter or late
in autumn is apt to be, unless laid in a warm room after
it is made.
Cheese is of very different quality, according to the
milk from which it is made: Thus, in Gloucestershire,
what is called the second or two-meal cheese, is made
from one meal of new milk and one of skimmed or old
milk, having tbe cream taken away. Skimmed cheese,
ovjlet-milk cheese, is made entirely from skimmed milk,
the cream having been taken off to make butter. It
goes by the name of Suffolk cheese, and is much used
at sea ; being less liable to be affected by tbe heat of
warm climates than the other kinds. A great deal
c£ difference, however, is to be observed in the quali¬
ty of it, which our author supposes to arise chiefly Manage,
from greater care being taken in some places than in mentor the
others. , Etehy-
Slip-coat or soft cheese is made entirely of slip-curd,
and dissolves into a kind of creamy liquor ; which is a
demonstration of the nature of this curd, as already
mentioned. It is commonly computed, that as much
milk is required to make one pound of butter as two
of cheese ; and even more where the land is poor, and
the pastures afford but little cream. 59S
Hest methods of making cheese in England. The dou- Double
ble Gloucester is a cheese that pleases almost every pa-(^oumter>
late. The best of this kind is made from new, or (as it
is called in that and the adjoining counties) coward
milk. An inferior sort is made from what is called
half-coward milk; though when any of these cheeses
turn out to be good, people are deceived, and often pur¬
chase them for the best coward milk cheese: but far¬
mers who are honest have them stamped with a piece
of wood made in the shape of a heart, so that any per¬
son may know them.
It will be every farmer’s interest (if he has a suffi¬
cient number of cows) to make a large cheese from one
meal’s milk. This, when brought in warm, will be
easily changed or turned with the runnet; but if the
morning or night’s milk be to be mixed with that
which is fresh from the cow, it will be a longer time
before it turns, nor will it change sometimes without
being heated over the fire, by which it often gets dust
or soot, or smoke, which will give the cheese a very
disagreeable flavour.
When the milk is turned, the whey should be care¬
fully strained from the curd. The curd should be bro¬
ken small with the hands; and when it is equally bro¬
ken, it must be put by a little at a time into the vat,
carefully breaking it as it is put in. The vat should
be filled an inch or more above the brim, that when
the whey is pressed out, it may not shrink below the
brim ; if it does, the cheese will be worth very little.
But first, before the curd is put in, a cheese-cloth, or
strainer, should be laid at the bottom of the vat: and
this should be so large, that when the vat is filled with
the curd, the ends of the cloth may turn again over
the top of it. When this is done, it should be taken to
the press, and there remain for the space of two hours,
when it should be turned and have a clean cloth put
under it and turned over as before. It must then be
pressed again, and remain in the press six or eight
hours; when it should again be turned and rubbed on
each side with salt. After this it must be pressed again
for the space of 12 or 14 hours more ; when, if any
of the edges project, they should be pared oft : it may/
then be put on a dry board, where it should be regu¬
larly turned every day. It is a good way to have three
or four holes bored round the lower part of the vat, that
the whey may drain so perfectly from the cheese as not
the least particle of it may remain.
The prevailing opinion of the people of Gloucester¬
shire and the neighbouring counties is, that the cheeses
will spoil if they do not scrape and wash them when
they are found to be mouldy. But others think that
suffering the mould to remain mellows them, provided
they are turned every day. Those, however, who will
have the mould off, should cause it to be removed
with a clean dry flannel, as the washing the cheeses.
is
599
uhedder
:heese.
600
Cheshire
:heese.
Part HI.
Manage- on^y a mean3 making the mould (which is a
ment of the species of fungus rooted in the coat) grow again im-
Dairy, mediately.
■ » 1 * Some people scald the curd : but this is a bad and
mercenary practice j it robs the cheese of its fatness,
and can only be done with a view to raise a greater
quantity of whey butter, or to bring the cheeses for¬
ward for sale, by making them appear older than they
really are.
As most people like to purchase high coloured
cheese, it may be right to mix a little arnotto with
the milk before it is turned. No cheese will look
yellow without it 5 and though it does not in the least
add to the goodness, it is perfectly innocent in its na¬
ture and effects.
Chedder cheese is held in high esteem $ but its
goodness is said to be chiefly owing to the land where¬
on the cows feed, as the method of making is the same
as is pursued throughout Somersetshire and the adjoin¬
ing counties.
Cheshire cheese is much admired ; yet no people
take less pains with the runnet than the Cheshire far¬
mers. But their cheeses are so large as often to ex¬
ceed one hundred pounds weight each j to this (and
the age they are kept, the richness of the land, and the
keeping such a number of cows as to make such a
cheese, without adding a second meal’s milk) their
excellence may be attributed. Indeed they salt the
curd (which may make a difference), and keep the
cheeses in a damp place after they are made, and are
very careful to turn them daily.
The following account of the mode of making this
cheese is stated in the Annals of Agriculture, by Mr
John Chamberlaine of Chester. “ The process of ma¬
king Cheshire cheese is as follows, viz. on a farm ca¬
pable of keeping 25 cows, a cheese of about sixty pounds
weight may be daily made, in the months of May, June,
and July.
“ The evening’s milk is kept untouched until next
morning, when the cream is taken off, and put to warm
in a brass pan heated with boiling water j then one
third part of that milk is heated in the same manner,
so as to bring it to the heat of new milk from the cow ;
(this part of the business is done by a person who does
not assist in milking the cows during that time.) Let
the cows be milked early in the morning $ then the
morning’s new milk, and the night’s milk, thus pre¬
pared, are put into a large tub together with the cream j
then a portion of runnet that has been put into water
milk-warm the evening before is put into the tub, suf¬
ficient to coagulate the milk j and at the same time, if
arnotto be used to colour the cheese, a small quantity,
as requisite for colouring, (or a marigold or carrot in¬
fusion) is rubbed very fine, and mixed with the milk,
by stirring all together j then covering it up warm, it
is to stand about half an hour, or until coagulated j at
which time it is first turned over with a bowl, to sepa¬
rate the whey from the curds, and broken soon after
with the hand and bowl into very small particles j the
whey being separated by standing some time, is taken
from the curd, which sinks to the bottom $ the curd is
then collected into a part of the tub which has a slip
or loose board across the diameter of the bottom
of it, for the sole use of separating them ; and a
board is placed thereon, with weights, from sixty to
AGRICULTURE.
507
a hundred and twenty pounds, 0 press out the whey : Manage-
when it is getting into a more solid consistence, it is ment of the
cut, and turned over in slices several times, to extract I>airy.
all the whey, and then weighted as before; which v
operations may take up about an hour and a half. It
is then taken from the tub, as near the side as possible,
and broken very small by hand, and salted, and put in¬
to a cheese vat, enlarged in depth by a tin hoop to
hold the quantity, it being more than bulk when final¬
ly put into the press. Then press the side well by
hand, and with a board at top well weighted $ and pla¬
cing wooden skewers round the cheese to the centre,
and drawing them out frequently, the upper part of
the cheese will be drained of its whey : then shift it
out of the vat j first put a cloth upon the top of it, and
reverse it by the cloth into another vat, or the same,
which vat should be well scalded before the cheese is
returned into it j then the top part is broken by hand
down to the middle, and salt mixed with it, and skew¬
ered as before, then pressed by hand, weighted, and all
the whey extracted. This done, reverse the cheese
again into another vat, warmed as before, with a cloth
under it *, then a tin hoop or binder is put round the
upper edge of the cheese and within the sides of the
vat, the cheese being first inclosed in a cloth, and the
edges of it put within the vat.
“ N. B. The cloth is of fine hemp, one yard and a
half long by one yard wide. It is so laid, that on one
side of the vat it shall be level with the side of it, on
the other it shall lap over the whole of the cheese, and
the edges put within the vat j and the tin fillet to go
over the whole. All the above operations will take
from seven in the morning till one at noon. Finally,
it is put into a press of fifteen or twenty cwt. and
stuck round the vat into the cheese with thin wire
skewers, which are shifted occasionally. In four hours
more it should be shifted and turned, and in four hours
more, the same, and the skewering continued. Next
morning, let it be turned by the woman who attends
the milk, and put under another or the same press, and
so turned at night and the next morning 5 at noon ta¬
ken out finally to the salting room, there salt the out¬
side, and put a cloth binder round it. The cheese
should, after such salting, be turned twice a-day for
six or seven days, then left two or three weeks to dry,
turned and cleaned every day, taken to the common
cheese room, laid on straw on a boarded floor, and daily
turned until grown hard.
“ The room should be moderately warm $ but no
wind or draught of air should be permitted, which ge¬
nerally cracks them. Some rub the outsides with but*
ter or oil to give them a coat.
“ The spring-made cheese is often shipped for the
London market in the following autumn, and it is sup¬
posed to be much ameliorated by the heating on board
the vessel.”
tfok
But of all the cheese this kingdom produces, none isstiltoa
more highly esteemed than the Stilton, which is called cheesv,
the Pat'mesan of England, and (except faulty) is never
sold for less than is. or is. 2d. per pound.
The Stilton cheeses are usually made in square vats,
and weigh from six to twelve pounds each cheese. Im¬
mediately after they are made, it is necessary to put
them into square boxes made exactly to fit them 5 they
being so extremely rich, that except this precaution
3 S 2 be
5o8
A G R I C
Manage- be taken they are apt to bulge out, and break asunder,
meat of the They should be continually and daily turned in these
, Dairy- boxes, and must be kept two years before they are pro-
perly mellowed for sale.
Some make them in a net somewhat like a cabbage
net; so that they appear, when made, not unlike an
acorn. But these are never so good as the other, hav¬
ing a thicker coat, and wanting all that rich flavour,
and mellowness which make them so pleasing.
It is proper to mention that the making of these
cheeses is not confined to the Stilton farmers, as many
others in Huntingdonshire (not forgetting Rutland and
Northamptonshire) make a similar sort, sell them for
the same price, and give all of them the name of Stilton
cheeses.
Though these farmers are remarked for cleanliness,
they take very little pains with the runnet, as they in
general only cut pieces from the veil or maw, which
they put into the milk, and move gently about with
the hand, by which means it breaks or turns it so, that
they easily obtain the curd. But if the method above
described for making runnet were put in practice, they
would make their cheese still better j at least they
would not have so many faulty and unsound cheeses j
for notwithstanding their cheeses bear such a name and
price, they often find them so bad as not to be saleable;
which is probably owing to their being so careless about
the runnet.
It has been alleged, that as good cheese might be
made in other counties, if people would adhere to the
btilton plan, which is this : They make a cheese every
morning; and to this meal of new milk they add the
cream taken from that which was milked the night be¬
fore. This, and the age of their cheeses, have been
supposed the only reasons why they are preferred to
others; for, from the nicest observation, it does not ap¬
pear that their land is in any respect superior to that
of other counties.
Excellent cream cheeses are made in Lincolnshire,
by adding the cream of one meal’s milk to milk which
comes immediately from the cow ; these are pressed
gently two or three times, turned for a few days, and
are then disposed of at the rate of is. per pound, to be
eaten while new with radishes, salad, &c.
Many people give skimmed milk to pigs ; but the
whey will do equally well after cheeses are made
from this milk : such cheeses will always sell for at
least 2d. per pound, which will amount to a large sum
annually where they make much butter. The pea¬
sants and many of the farmers in the north of Eng¬
land never eat any better cheese; and though they ap¬
pear harder, experience hath proved them to be much
easier of digestion than any new milk cheeses. A
good market may always he found for the sale of them
at Bristol.
Account of the making of Parmesan cheese; by Mr
Zappa of Milan : in answer to queries from Arthur
Young, Esq.
“ Are the cows regularly fed in stables ?”—From
the middle of April, or sooner, if possible, the cows are
sent to pasture in the meadows till the end of November
usually.
“.Or only fed in stables in winter ?”—When the sea¬
son is past, and snow comes, they are put into stables for
the whole winter, and fed with hay.
6C2
Parmesan
cheese.
U L T U R E. Practice
“ Do they remain in the pasture from morning till M
night, or only in hot weather Between nine and mentof 16*
ten in the morning the cows are sent to water, and Dairy.
then to the pastures, where they remain four or five 1 r—>
hours at most, and at three or four o’clock are driven
to the stables if the season is fresh, or under porticoes if
hot; where, for the night, a convenient quantity of hay
is given them.
In what months are they kept at pasture the
whole day ?”—Mostly answered already ; but it might
be said, that no owner will leave his cattle, without
great cause, in uncovered places at night. It hap¬
pens only to the shepherds from the Alps, when they
pass, because it is impossible to find stables for all their
cattle.
What is the opinion in the Lodesan, on the best
conduct for profit in the management of meadows ?” 
For a dairy farm of 100 cows, which yields daily a
cheese weighing 70 or 751b. of 28 ounces, are wanted
1000 perticas of land. Of these about 800 are standing
meadows, the other 200 are in cultivation for corn and
grass fields in rotation.
“ Do they milk the cows morning and evening ?” 
Those that are in milk are milked morning and evening,
with exception of such as are near calving.
“ ^ne hundred cows being wanted to make a Lo¬
desan each day, it is supposed that it is made with the
milk of the evening and the following morning; or of
the morning and evening of the same day : how is it ?”
— The 100 cows form a dairy farm of a good large
cheese ; it is reckoned that 80 are in milk, and 20 with
calves sucking, or near calving, They reckon one with
the other about 32 boccalis of 32 oz. of milk. Such is
the quantity for a cheese of about yolb. of 28 ounces.
They join the evening with the morning milk, because
it is fresher than if it was that of the morning and even¬
ing of the same day. The morning milk would be 24
hours old when the next morning the cheese should be
made.
“ Do they skim or not the milk to make butter be¬
fore they make the cheese From the evening milk
all the cream possible is taken away for butter, mascar-
poni (cream cheese), &c. The milk of the morning
ought to he skimmed slightly. But every one skims as
much cream as he can. The butter is sold on the spot
immediately at 24 sous : the cheese at about 28 sous.
The butter loses nothing in weight: the cheese loses
one third of it, is subject to heat, and requires expences
of service, attention, warehouses, &c. before it is sold ;
and a man in two hours makes 43 or 501b. of butter
that is sold directly. However, it is not possible to
leave much cream in the milk to make Lodesan cheese,
called grained cheese ; because, if it is too rich, it does
not last long, and it is necessary to consume it while
young and sound.
“ Is Parmesan or Lodesan cheese made every day in
the year or not ?”—With 100 cows it is. In winter,
however, the milk being less in quantity, the cheese is
of lesser weight, but certainly more delicate.
“ After gathering or uniting the milk, either skim¬
med or not, what is exactly the whole operation ?”—*
The morning of the 3d °f March 1786, I have seen
the whole operation, having gone on purpose to the
spot to see the whole work from beginning to end. At
16 Italian hours, or ten in the morning, according to
the
'art III.
AGRICULTURE.
Jana^e- the northern way to account hours, the skimming of
eat of the that morning’s milk, gathered only two hours before,
. was finished. I did, meanwhile, examine the boiler or
pot. At the top it was eight feet (English) diameter,
or thereabout, and about five feet three inches deep j
made like a bell, and narrowing towards the bottom
to about two and one-half feet. They joined the cream
produced that morning with the other produced by
the milk of the evening before. That produced by
this last milk was double in quantity to that of the
morning milk, because it had the whole night to unite,
and that of the morning had only two hours to do it:
in which it could not separate much. Of the cream,
some was destined to make mascarponies (cream cheese),
and they put the rest into the machine for making but¬
ter. Out of the milk of the evening before and of
that morning, that was all put together after skimming,
they took and put into the boiler 272 boccali, and
they put under it two faggots of wood; which being
burnt, were sufficient to give the milk a warmth a
little superior to lukewarm. Then the boiler being
withdrawn from the fire, the foreman put into it the
runnet, which they prepare in small balls of one ounce
each, turning the ball in his hand always kept in the
milk entirely covered ; and after it was perfectly dis¬
solved, he covered the boiler to keep the milk defend¬
ed, that it might not suffer from the coldness of the
season, particularly as ft was a windy day. I went
then to look on the man that was making mascarpo-
mies, &c. and then we went twice to examine if the
milk was sufficiently coagulated. At the 18 hours, ac¬
cording to the Italian clocks, or noon, the true manu¬
factory of cheese began. The milk was coagulated in
a manner to be taken from the boiler in pieces from
the surface. The foreman, with a stick that had 18
points, or rather nine small pieces of wood fixed by
their middle in the end of it, and forming nine points
on each side, began to break exactly all the coagulated
milk, and did continue to do so for more than half
an hour, from time to time examining it to see its state.
He ordered to renew the fire, and four faggots of
willow branches were used all at once: he turned the
boiler that the fire might act; and then the underman
, began to work in the milk with a stick, like the above,
but only with four smaller sticks at the top, forming
eight points, four at each side, a span long each point.
In a quarter of an hour the foreman mixed in the
boiler the proper quantity of saffron, and the milk was
all in knobs and finer grained than before, by the ef¬
fect of turning and breaking the coagulation, or curd,
continually. Every moment the fire was renewed or
fed ; but with a faggot only at a time, to continue it
regular. The milk was never heated much, nor does
it hinder to keep the hand in it to know the fineness
of the grain, which refines continually by the stick-
work of the underman. It is of the greatest conse¬
quence to mind when the grain begins to take a con¬
sistence. When it comes to this state, the boiler is
turned from the fire, and the underman immediately
takes out the whey, putting it into proper receivers.
In that manner the grain subsides to the bottom of
■ the boiler; and leaving only in it whey enough to
keep the grain covered a little, the foreman extending
himself as much as he can over and in the boiler,
unites with his hands the grained milk, making like a
quors.
. 5a9
body of paste of it. Then a large piece of linen is Making of
run by him under that paste, while another man keeps Fruit-Li-
the. four corners of it, and the whey is directly put
again into the boiler, by which is facilitated the means
of raising that paste that is taken out of the boiler, and
put for one quarter of an hour into the receiver where
the whey was put before, in the same linen it was ta¬
ken from the boiler j which boiler is turned again di¬
rectly on the fire, to extract the mascarpa ("whey
cheese) ; and is a second product, eaten by poor peo¬
ple. After the paste remained for a quarter of an
hour in that receiver, it was taken out and turned into
the wooden form called sassera, without any thing else
made than the rotundity, having neither top nor bot¬
tom. Immediately after having returned it into that
round wooden form, they put a piece of w'ood like a
cheese on it, putting and increasing gradually weights
on it, which serve to force out the remnant of the
whey 5 and in the evening the cheese so formed is car¬
ried into the warehouse, where, after 24 hours, they
begin to give the salt. It remains in that warehouse
for 15 or 20 days ; but in summer only from 8 to 12
days. Meanwhile the air and salt form the crust to it;
and then it is carried into another warehouse for a dif¬
ferent service. In the second warehouse they turn
every day all the cheeses that are not older than six
months j and afterwards it is enough if they are only
turned every 48 or 60 hours, keeping them clean, in
particular, of that bloom which is inevitable to them,
and which, if neglected, turns musty, and causes the
cheese to acquire a bad smell. The Eodesan, because
it is a province watered, has a great deal of meadows,
and abounds with cows, its product being mostly in
cheese, butter, &c. However, the province of Pavia
makes a great deal of that cheese; and we Milanese
do likewise the same from the side of Porte Tosa, Ro-
mana, Ticinese, and Vercilino, because we have fine
meadows and dairy farms.
Sect. IX. flaking of Fruit-Liquoi's.
These, as objects of British husbandry, are princi-
pally two, Cydet' and Ferry; the manufacturing of which u
forms a capital branch in our fruit-counties, and of
which the improvement -must be considered as of great
importance to the public, but particularly so to the in¬
habitants of those districts where these liquors consti¬
tute their common beverage.
Cyder and perry, when genuine and in high per- ExceUenea
fection, are excellent vinous liquors, and are cer-of cyder
tainly far more wholesome than many others which and perry,
at present are in much higher estimation. When
the must is prepared from the choicest fruit, and un¬
dergoes the exact degree of vinous fermentation re¬
quisite to its perfection, the acid and the sweet are
so admirably blended with the aqueous, oily, and spi¬
rituous principles, and the rvliole so imbued with the
grateful flavour of the rinds, and the agreeable aro¬
matic bitter of the kernels, that it assumes a new cha¬
racter 5 grows lively, sparkling, and exhilarating; and
when completely mellowed by time, the liquor becomes
at once highly delicious to the palate, and congenial
to the constitution ; superior in every respect to most
other English wines, and perhaps not inferior to many * Suth Pte-.
of the best foreign wines. Such (says Dr Fothergill *)
would1
5io
Making 4f would it be pronounced by all competent judges, were
Fruit-Li- it not for the popular prejudice annexed to it as a cheap
quors. home-brewed liquor, and consequently within the reach
v——' tjie vu]gar> Xo compare such a liquor with the
foreign fiery sophisticated mixtures often imported
under the name of wines, would be to degrade it j for
it certainly surpasses them in flavour and pleasantness,
as much as it excels them in wholesomeness and cheap¬
ness. But rarely do we meet with perry or cyder of
this superior quality. For what is generally sold by
dealers and inkeepers is a poor, meagre, vapid li¬
quor, prone to the acetous fermentation, and of course
very injurious to the constitution. Is it not very mor-
A.rt of ma- tifying, after the experience of so many centuries,
king them that the art of preparing those ancient British liquors,
not yet per-should still be so imperfectly understood as to seem to
fectly mi- jn very infancy —That throughout the princi-
derstood. Cyjer districts, the practice should still rest on the
most vague indeterminate principles, and that the ex¬
cellence of the liquor should depend rather on a lucky
random hit, than on good management ? Yet such ap¬
pears to be really the case even among the most expe¬
rienced cyder-makers of Herefordshire and Gloucester¬
shire.
Mr Marshall, that nice observer of rural affairs, in
* Rural his tour * through those counties (expressly under-
Ecoii. of taken for the purpose of inquiry on this subject),
Giloucetter- informs us, that scarcely two of these professional ar-
p^o’s"' tists are agreed as to the management of some of the
606 most essential parts of the process: That palpable er-
Errors rors are committed as to the time and manner of ga-
pointed ouLthering the fruit—in laying it up—in neglecting to
separate the unsound—and to grind properly the rinds
and kernels, &c.: That the method of conducting
the vinous fermentation, the most critical part of the
operation, and which stamps the future value of the
liquor, is by no means ascertained; while some pro¬
mote the fermentation in a spacious open vat, others
repress it by inclosing the liquor in a hogshead, or
strive to prevent it altogether: That no determinate
point of temperature is regarded, and that the use of
the thermometer is unknown or neglected : That they
are as little consistent as to the time of racking off j
and whether this ought to be done only once, or five
or six times repeated: That for fining down the li¬
quor many have recourse to that odious article, bul¬
locks blood, when the intention might be much better
answered by whites of eggs or isinglass. And, finally,
that the capricious taste of particular customers is ge¬
nerally consulted, rather than the real excellence of the
liquor ; and consequently that a very imperfect liquor is
often vended, which tends to reduce the price, to dis¬
grace the vender, and to bring the use of cyder and per¬
ry into disrepute.
The art of making vinous liquors is a curious chemi¬
cal process ; and its success chiefly depends on a dexte¬
rous management of the vinous fermentation, besides a
close attention to sundry minute circumstances, the
theory of which is perhaps not yet fully understood by
the ablest chemists. Can we longer wonder then that
so many errors should be committed by illiterate cyder-
makers, totally unversed in the first principles of the
chemical art ? Some few, indeed, more enlightened
than their brethren, and less bigotted to their own
opinions, by dint of observation strike out improve-
Practicc,
ments, and produce every now and then a liquor of Making of
superior quality, though perhaps far short of excel- Fruit-Li.
lence, yet still sufficient to show what might possibly , fluors-
be accomplished by a series of new experiments con- 60^
ducted on philosophical principles. This might lead Means of
to successive improvements, till at length our English improve,
fruit-liquors might be carried to a pitch of perfection ,neIlt•
hitherto unknown, by which the demand, both at
home and abroad, would soon be enlarged, the prices
augmented according to the quality, the value of
estates increased, and the health and prosperity of
these counties proportionably advanced. This might
also help to point out a method of correcting the
imperfections of these liquors 5 and of meliorating
those of a weak meagre quality, by safer and more
effectual means than are now practised : and though
nothing can fully compensate the defect of sunshine
in maturing the saccharine juices in unfavourable
seasons, yet probably such liquors might, without
the dangerous and expensive method of boiling in
a copper vessel, admit of considerable improvement by
the addition of barm or other suitable ferment, as yet
unknown in the practice of the cyder districts j or
perhaps rather by a portion of rich must, or some
wholesome sweet, as honey, sugar-candy, or even mo¬
lasses, added in due proportion, previous to the fermen¬
tation. In fact, it appears from a late publication t, f Hopson't
that the Germans are known to meliorate their thinCAmirfry
harsh wines by an addition of concentrated must, not
by evaporation, but by freezing. By this simple pro¬
cess they are made to emulate good French wines: a
practice worthy of imitation, especially in the northern
climates.
Cyder, as is well known, is made from apples and per¬
ry from pears only. The general method of preparing
both these liquors is very much the same ; and under the
article Cyder a description’will be given of the way
in which those fruits are gathered, ground, and pressed.
The mill is not essentially different from that of a com- g0g
mon tanner’s mill for grinding bark. It consists of a mill- Description
stone from two and a half to four feet and a half inof.a cyder
diameter, running on its edge in a circular stone trough, “ijj
from nine to twelve inches in thickness, and from one
to two tons in weight. The bottom of the trough in
which this stone runs is somewhat wider than the
thickness of the stone itself 5 the inner side of the groove
rises perpendicularly, but the outer spreads in such a
manner as to make the top of the trough six or eight
inches wider than the bottom} by which means there
is room for the stone to run freely, and likewise for
putting in the fruit, and stirring it up while grinding.
The bed of a middle-sized mill is about 9 feet, some
10, and some 12; the whole being composed of two,
three, or four stones cramped together and finished
after being cramped in this manner. The best stones
are found in the forest of Dean j generally a dark reddish
gritstone, not calcareous 5 for if it were of a calcareous
quality, the acid juice of the fruits would act upon
it and spoil the liquor: a clean-grained grindstone
grit is the fittest for the purpose. The runner is mo¬
ved by means of an axle passing through the centre,
with a long arm reaching without the bed of the mill,
for a horse to draw by 5 on the other side is a shorter
arm passing through the centre of the stone, as repre¬
sented
AGRICULTURE.
■art III. A GRIG
jayno' of sented in the figure. An iron bolt, with a large head,
ruit Li- passes through an eye, in the lower part of the swivel
(juors. on which the stone turns, into the end of the inner
arrn 0f t]]e axjs . an(l thus the double motion of it is
obtained, and the stone kept perfectly upright. There
ought also to be fixed on the inner arm of the axis,
about a foot from the runner, a cogged wheel work¬
ing in a circle of cogs, fixed upon the bed of the mill.
The use of these is to prevent the runner from sliding,
which it is apt to do when the mill is full j it like¬
wise makes the work more easy for the horse. These
wheels ought to be made with great exactness. Mr
Marshall observes, that it is an error to make the
horse draw by traces: “ The acting point of draught
(says he), the horse’s shoulder, ought, for various rea¬
sons, to be applied immediately at the end of the arm
of the axis ; not two or three yards before it; perhaps
of a small mill near one fourth of its circumference.”
The building in which the mill is inclosed ought to be
of such a size, that the horse may have a path of three
feet wide betwixt the mill and the walls ; so that a
middling-sized mill, with its horse-path, takes up a
space of 14 or 15 feet every way. The whole dimen¬
sions of the mill-house, according to our author, to
render it any way convenient, are 24 feet by 20: it
ought to have a floor thrown over it at the height of
seven feet j with a door in the middle of the front,
and a window opposite, with the mill on one side and
the press on the other side of the window. The latter
must be as near the mill as convenience will allow,
for the more easy conveying the ground fruit from
the one to the other. The press, which is of a very
simple construction, has its bed or bottom about five
feet square. This ought to be made entirely either
of wood or stone $ the practice of covering it with
lead being now universally known to be pernicious.
It has a channel cut within a few inches of its outer
edge, to catch the liquor as it is expressed, and con¬
vey it to a lip formed by a projection on that side
of the bed opposite to the mill j having under it a
stone trough, or wooden vessel, sunk within the ground,
when the bed is fixed low, to receive it. The press is
worked with levers of different lengths j first a short,
and then a moderately long one, both worked by hand j
and lastly, a bar eight or nine feet long worked by a
capstan or windlass. The expence of fitting up a mill-
house is not very great. Mr Marshall computes it
from 20I. to 25I. and on a small scale, from 10I. to
I5I. though much depends on the distance and car¬
riage of the stone: when once fitted up, it will last*
many years.
The making of the fruit-liquors under consideration*
requires an attention to * the following particulars.—
I. The fruit. II. The grinding. III. Pressing. IV.:
The fermenting. V. Correcting. VI. Laying up.
VII. Bottling:—each of which heads is subdivided*
g0p into several others.
mage- I. In the management of the fruit the following par- -
nt i>f the ticulars are to be considered*
3. The time of gathering, which varies according
to the nature of the fruit. The early pears are fit for
the mill in September; but few apples are ready
for gathering before Michaelmas $ though, by reason
of.accidental circumstances, they are frequently man,u-
U L T U R E. 511
factored before that time. For sale cyder, and keeping Making of
drink, they are suffered to hang upon the trees till fully Fruit Li-
ripe ; and the middle of Ostober is generally looked quors-
upon to be a proper time for gathering the stire-apple. '*
The criterion of a due degree of ripeness is the fruit fall¬
ing from the tree : and to force it away before that time,
in Mr Marshall’s opinion, is robbing it of some of its
most valuable particles. “ The harvesting of fruits (says
he) is widely different in this respect from the harvest¬
ing of grain; which has the entire plant to feed it after
its separation from the soil; while fruit, after it is severed
from the tree, is cut off from all possibility of a further
supply of nourishment j and although it may have reach¬
ed its wonted size, some of its more essential particles
are undoubtedly left behind in the tree. Sometimes,
however, the fruits which are late in ripening are apt
to hang on the tree until spoiled by frosts ; though
weak watery fruits seem to be most injured in this
manner $ and Mr Marshall relates an instance of very
fine liquor being made from golden pippins, after the
fruit had been frozen as hard as ice. <;IO
2. The method of gathering. This, as generally Method of
practised, is directly contrary to the principle laid down gathering
by Mr Marshall, viz. beating them down with long11,
slender poles. An evident disadvantage of this method
is, that the fruit is of unequal ripeness j for the apples
on the same trees will differ many days, perhaps even
weeks, in their time of coming to perfection j whence
some part of the richness and flavour of the fruit will be
effectually and irremediably cut off. Nor is this the
only evil to be dreaded 5 for as every thing depends on
the fermentation it has to undergo, if this be interrupt¬
ed, or rendered complex by a mixture of ripe and un¬
ripe fruits, and the liquor be not in the first instance
sufficiently purged from its feculencies, it is difficult to
clear the liquor afterwards. The former defect the cy¬
der-makers attempt to remedy by a mixture of brown
sugar and brandy, and the latter by bullocks blood and
brimstone; but neither of these can be expected to an¬
swer the purpose very effectually. The best method of
avoiding the inconveniences arising from an unequal
ripening of the fruit is to go over the trees twice, once
with a hook, when the fruit begins to fall spontane-.
ously j the second time, when the latter are sufficiently •
ripened, or when the winter is likely to set in, when >
the trees are to be.cleared with the poles above men¬
tioned. 61T
3. Maturing the gathered fruit. This is usually done Maturing;
by making it into heaps, as is mentioned under the ar-lt> ^c*
tide Cyder ; but Mr Marshall entirely disapproves of
the practice j because, when the whole are laid in a
heap together, the ripest fruit will begin to rot before
the other has arrived at that degree of artificial ripeness
which it is capable of acquiring. “ The due degree
of maturation of fruit for liquor (he observes) is a sub¬
ject about which men, even in this district, differ much
in their ideas. The prevailing practice of gathering
into heaps until the ripest begins to rot, is wasting the
best of the fruit, and is by no means an accurate crite¬
rion. Some shake the fruit, and judge by the rattling
of the kernels j others cut through the middle, and
judge by their blackness ; but none of these appear to
be a proper test. It is not the state of the kernels but
of the flesh j not of a few individuals, but of the greater
part of the prime fruits, which render the collective bo-.
512 A G R I C U
Making of or sent ^ie n“^* The most ra-
Fruit-Lt- tional test of the ripeness of the fruit, is that of the flesh
quors. having acquired such a degree of mellowness, and its
v—texture such a degree of tenderness, as to yield to mo¬
derate pressure. Thus, when the knuckle or the end of
the thumb can with moderate exertion be forced into
the pulp of the fruit, it is deemed in a fit state for grind-
ing”
4. Preparation for the mill. The proper manage¬
ment of the fruit is to keep the ripe and unripe fruit se¬
parate from each other: but this cannot be done with¬
out a considerable degree of labour $ for as by number¬
less accidents the ripe and unripe fruits are frequently
confounded together, there cannot be any effectual me¬
thod of separating them except by hand ; and Mr Mar¬
shall is of opinion, that this is one of the grand secrets
of cyder-making, peculiar to those who excel in the bu¬
siness ; and he is surprised that it should not before this
time have come into common practice.
5. Mixing fruits for liquor. Our author seems to
doubt the propriety of this practice ; and informs us,
that the finer liquors are made from select fruits j and
he hints that it might he more proper to mix liquors
after they are made, than to put together the crude
gr2 fruits.
■Grinding. II. Grinding, and management of the fruit when
ground.
1. For the greater convenience of putting the
fruit into the mill, every mill-house should have a
fruit-chamber over it, with a trap-door to lower the
fruit down into the mill. The best manner in which
this can be accomplished, is to have the valve over the
bed of the mill, and furnished with a cloth spout or
tunnel reaching down to the trough in which the stone
moves. No straw is used in the lofts ; but sometimes
the fruit is turned. In Herefordshire, it is generally
believed, that grinding the rind and seeds of the fruit as
well as the fleshy part to a pulp, is necessary towards
the perfection of the cyder j whence it is necessary, that
every kind of pains should be taken to perform the
grinding in the most perfect manner. Mr Marshall
complains, that the cyder-mills are so imperfectly finish¬
ed by the workmen, that for the hvst fifty years they
cannot perform their work in a proper manner. Instead
of being nicely fitted to one another with the square
and chisel, they are hewn over with a rough tool in such
a careless manner, that horse-beans might lie in safety
in their cavities. Some even imagine this to be an ad¬
vantage, as if the fruit was more effectually and com¬
pletely broken by rough than smooth stones. Some use
fluted rollers of iron j but these will be corroded by the
juice, and thus the liquor might be tinged. Smooth rol¬
lers will not lay hold.of the fruit sufficiently to force it
through.
Another improvement requisite in the cyder-mills
is to prevent the matter in the trough from rising be-
lore the stone in the last stage of grinding, and a me¬
thod of stirring it up in the trough more effectually
than can be done at present. To remedy the former of
these defects, it might perhaps be proper to grind the
fruit fust m the mill to a certain degree £ and then put
it between two smooth rollers to finish the operation in
the most perfect manner. It is an error to grind too
much at once : as this clogs up the mill, and prevents
it from going easily. The usual quantity for a middle-
L T U R E. Practice,
sized mill is a bag containing four corn bushels j but Making „<
our author had once an opportunity of seeing a mill Fruit-Li-
in which only half a bag was put j and thus the work quors.
seemed to go on more easily as well as more quickly 1
than when more was put in at once. The quantity
put in at one time is to be taken out when ground.
The usual quantity of fruit ground in a day is as
much as will make three hogsheads of perry or two of
cyder.
2. Management of the ground fruit. Here Mr Mar¬
shall condemns in very strong terms the practice of pres¬
sing the pulp of the fruit as soon as the grinding is fi¬
nished ; because thus neither the rind nor seeds have
time to communicate their virtues to the liquor. In or¬
der to extract these virtues in the most proper manner,
some allow the ground fruit to lie 24 hours or more af¬
ter grinding, and even regrind it, in order to have in
the most perfect manner the flavour and virtues of the
seeds and rind. ^
HI. Pressing the fruit, and management of the re- Pressing,
siduum. This is done by folding up the ground fruit
in pieces of hair-cloth, and piling them up above one
another in a square frame or mould, and then pulling
down the press upon them, which squeezes out the
juice, and forms the matter into thin and almost dry
cakes. The first runnings come off foul and muddy;
but the last, especially in perry, will be as clear and
fine as if filtered through paper. It is common to throw
away the residuum as useless: sometimes it is made
use of when dry as fuel; sometimes the pigs will eat it,
especially when not thoroughly squeezed 5 and some¬
times it is ground a second time with water, and
squeezed for an inferior kind of liquor used for the fa¬
mily. Mr Marshall advises to continue the pressure as
long as a drop can be ,drawn. “ It is found (says he),
that even by breaking the cakes of refuse with the
hands only gives the press fresh power over it; for
though it has been pressed to the last drop, a gallon or
more of additional liquor may be got by this means.
Kegrinding them has a still greater effect: In this
state of the materials the mill gains a degree of power
over the more rigid parts of the fruits, which in the
first grinding it could not reach. If the face of the
runner and the bottom of the trough were dressed with
a broad chisel, and made true to each other, and a mo¬
derate quantity of residuum ground at once, scarcely a
kernel could escape unbroken, or a drop of liquor re¬
main undrawn.” I
But though the whole virtue of the fruit cannot be
extracted without grinding it very fine, some inconve¬
nience attends this practice, as part of the pulp thus
gets through the haircloth, and may perhaps be inju¬
rious to the subsequent fermentation. This, however,
may be in a great measure remedied by straining the
first runnings through a sieve. The whole should also
be allowed to settle in a cask, and drawn off into a
fresh vessel previous to the commencement of' the fer¬
mentation. The reduced fruit ought to remain some
time between the grinding and pressing, that the liquor
may have an opportunity of forming an extract with
the rind and kernels: but this must not be pushed too
far, as in that case the colour of the cyder would be
hurt: and the most judicious managers object to the
pulp remaining longer than 12 hours without pressure.
“ Hence (says our author), upon the whole, the most
eligible
Part in. aghicultuhe.
Making of eligible management in this stage of the art appears to
Fruit-Li- be this : Grind one pressful a day $ press and regrind
quors^ t]ie residuum in the evening ; infuse the reduced mat¬
ter all night among part of the first runnings ; and in
the morning repress while the next pressful is grind-
514 ins-
ermenta- IV. Fermentation, The common practice is to have
the liquor tunned j that is, put into casks or hogs¬
heads immediately from the press, and to fill them
quite full : but it is undoubtedly more proper to leave
some space empty to be filled up afterwards. No ac¬
curate experiment has been made with regard to the
temperature of the air proper to be kept up in the
place where the fermentation goes on. Frost is pre¬
judicial : but when the process usually commences,
that is, about the middle of October, the liquor is put
into airy shades, where the warmth is scarce greater than
in the open atmosphere j nay, the casks are frequently
exposed to the open air without any covering farther
than a piece of tile or flat stone over the bunghole,
propped up by a wooden pin on one side to cause the
rain water to run off. In a complete manufactory of
fruit-liquor, the fermenting room should be under the
same roof with the mill-house j a continuation of the
press-room, or at least opening into it, with windows
or doors on every side, to give a free admission of air
into it $ sufficient defences against frost j fruit-lofts
over it, and vaults underneath for laying up the liquors
after fermentation *, with small holes in the crown of
the arch to admit a leathern pipe, for the purpose of
conveying the liquors occasionally from the one to the
other.
In making of fruit-liquors, no ferment is used as in
making of beer j though, from Mr Marshall’s account
of the matter, it seems far from being unnecessary.
Owing to this omission, the time of the commencement
of the fermentation is entirely uncertain. It takes
place sometimes in one, two, or three days j sometimes
not till a week or month after tunning : but it has been
observed, that liquor which has been agitated in a car¬
riage, though taken immediately from the press, will
sometimes pass almost immediately into a state of fer¬
mentation. The continuance of the fermentation is no
less uncertain than the commencement of it. 1/iquors
when much agitated, will go through it perhaps in one
day $ Fut when allowed to remain at rest, the fermen¬
tation commonly goes on two or three days, and some¬
times five or six. The fermenting liquor, however,
puts on a different appearance according to circum¬
stances. When produced from fruits improperly ma¬
naged, it generally throws up a thick scum resembling
that of malt liquor, and of a thickness proportioned to
the species and ripeness of the fruit 5 the riper the
fruit, the more scum being thrown up. Perry gives
but little sejum, and cyder will sometimes also do the
same $ sometimes it is intentionally prevented from do¬
ing it.
After having remained some time in the fermenting
vessel, the liquor is racked or drawn off from the lees
and put into fresh casks. In this part of the opera¬
tion also Mr Marshall complains greatly of the little
attention that is paid to the liquor. The ordinary
tirtie for racking perry is before it has done hissing, or
sometimes when it begins to emit fixed air in plenty.
The only intention of the operation is to free the li-
Ygl. I. Part II. +
quor from its fseces by a cock placed at a little distance Making of
from the bottom ; after which the remainder is to be Fruit-Li-
filtered through a canvas or flannel bag. This filtered t cluors-
liquor differs from the rest in having a higher colour $
having no longer any tendency to ferment, but on the
contrary checking the fermentation of that which is
racked off j and if it loses its brightness, it is no lon¬
ger easily recovered.—-A fresh fermentation usually
commences after racking ; and if it become violent, a
fresh racking is necessary in order to check it j in
consequence of which the same liquor will perhaps be
racked five or six times : but if only a small degree of
fermentation takes place, which is called fretting, it is
allowed to remain in the same cask j though even here
the degree of fermentation which requires racking is
by no means determined. Mr Marshall informs us that
the best manufacturers, however, repeat the rackings
until the liquor will lie quiet, or nearly so j and if it
be found impracticable to accompany this by the ordi¬
nary method of fermentation, recourse must be had to
fumigation with sulphur, which is called stumming the
casks. For this fumigation it is necessary to have
matches made of thick linen cloth about ten inches
long, and an inch broad, thickly coated with brim¬
stone for about eight inches of their length. The cask
is then properly seasoned, and every vent except the
bunghole tightly stopped ; a match is kindled, lower¬
ed down into the cask, and held by the end undipped
until it be well lighted, and the bung be driven in :
thus suspending the lighted match within the cask.
Having burnt as long as the contained air will supply
the fire, the match dies, the bung is raised, the rem¬
nant of the match drawn out, and the cask suffered to
remain before the liquor be put into it for two or three
hours, more or less according to the degree of power
the sulphur ought to have. The liquor retains a smell
of the sulphureous acid $ but this goes off in a short
time, and no bad effect is ever observed to follow.
In some places the liquor is left to ferment in open
casks, where it stands till the first fermentation be
pretty well over j after which the frost or yeast col¬
lected upon the surface is taken off, it being supposed
that it is this yeast mixing with the clear liquor which
causes it to fret after racking. The fermentation be¬
ing totally ceased, and the lees subsided, the liquor is
racked off into a fresh cask, and the lees filtered as
above directed. The author mentions a way of fer¬
menting fruit-liquors in broad shallow vats, not less
than five feet in diameter, and little more than two
feet deep j each vat containing about two hogsheads.
In these the liquor remains until it has done rising, or
till the fermentation has nearly ceased, when it is rack¬
ed off without skimming, the critical juncture being
caught before the yeast fall $ the whole sinking gradu¬
ally together as the liquor is drawn off. In this prac¬
tice also the liquor is seldom drawn off a second time. 6l.
Cyder is made of three different kinds, viz. rough. Different
sweet, and of a middle richness. The first kind being kinds of
usually destined for servants, is made with very little cyder*
ceremony. “ If it is but "zeyder (says Mr Marshall),
and has body enough to keep, no matter for the rich¬
ness and flavour. The rougher it is, the further it
will go, and the more acceptable custom has rendered
it not only to the workmen but to their masters. A
palate accustomed to rough cyder would judge the
3 T rough
.Fruit Li¬
enors.
616
liquors.
51!
Making of t'ougli cyder of the farm-houses to be a mixture of
vinegar and water, with a little dissolved alum to give
it roughness.” The method of producing this austere
liquor is to grind the fruit in a crude, under-ripe state,
and subject the liquor to a full fermentation.—For the
sweet liquor, make choice of the sweet fruits ; ma¬
ture them fully; and check the fermentation of the
liquor.—To produce liquors of a middle richness, the
nature of the fruit, as well as the season in which it is
matured, must be considered. The fruits to be made
choice of are such as yield juices capable of affording
a sufficiency both of richness and strength *, though
much depends upon proper management. Open vats,
in our author’s opinion, are preferable to close vessels:
but if casks be used at all, they ought to be very
large, and not filled $ nor ought they to lie upon their
sides, but to be set on their ends with their heads out,
and to be filled only to such a height as will produce
the requisite degree of fermentation : but in whatever
way the liquor be put to ferment, Mr Marshall is of
opinion that the operation ought to be allowed to go on
freely for the first time *, though after being racked off,
any second fermentation ought to be prevented as much
as possible.
Of correct- V. Correcting, provincially called doctoring. The
ing or doc- imperfections which art attempts to supply in these
toring the liquors are, I. Want of strength; 2. Want of rich¬
ness; 3. Want of flavour; 4. Want of colour and
brightness.
The want of strength is supplied by brandy or any
other spirit in sufficient quantity to prevent the ace¬
tous fermentation. The want of richness is supplied
by what are generally termed sweets, but prepared in
a manner which our author says has never fallen un¬
der his notice. To supply the want of flavour an in¬
fusion of hops is sometimes added, which is said to
eommunicate an agreeable bitter, and at the same time
a fragrance; whence it becomes a substitute for the
juices of the rind and kernels thrown away to the
pigs and poultry, or otherwise wasted. The want of
colour is sometimes supplied by elder berries, but more
generally by burnt sugar, which gives the desired co¬
lour, and a degree of bitter which is very much liked.
The sugar is prepared either by burning it on a sa¬
lamander, and suffering it to drop, as it melts, into wa¬
ter ; or by boiling it over the fire (in which case brown
sugar is to be used), until it acquire an agreeable bit¬
ter ; then pouring in boiling water in the proportion of
a gallon to two pounds of sugar, and stir until the li¬
quor become uniform. A pint of this preparation will
colour a hogshead of cyder. Brightness is obtained by
a mixture of the blood of bullocks and sheep; that of
swine being rejected, though it does not appear to be
more unfit for the purpose than either of the other
two. The only thing necessary to be done here is to
stir the blood well as it is drawn from the animal, to
prevent the parts from separating ; and it ought to be
stirred “ both ways for a quarter of an hour.” The
liquor, however, is not always in a proper condition for
being refined with this ingredient: on which account a
little of it ought frequently to be tried in a vial. A
quart or less will be sufficient for a hogshead. After
the blood is poured in, the liquor should be violently
agitated, to mix the whole intimately together. This
is done by a stick slit into four, and inserted into the
AGRICULTURE.
Practice.
bunghole ; working it briskly about in the liquor un- Making uf
til the whole be thoroughly mixed. In about 24 hours Fruit Li¬
the blood will be subsided, and the liquor ought in-
stantly to be racked off; as by remaining upon the blood J " J
even for two or three days, it will receive a taint not
easily to be got rid of. It is remarkable, that this re¬
finement with the blood carries down not only the faeces,
but the colour also; rendering the liquor, though ever
so highly coloured before, almost as limpid as water.
Isinglass and eggs are sometimes made use of in fining
cyder as well as wine. <5,7
VI. The laying up or shutting up the cyder in close Of laying
casks, according to Mr Marshall, is as little understood “P or cask-
as any of the rest of the parts; the bungs being com-1”^
monly put in at some certain time, or in some parti¬
cular month, without any regard to the state the li¬
quor itself is in. “ The only criterion (says he) I
have met with for judging the critical time of laying
up, is when a fine white cream-like matter first begins
to form upon the surface. But this may be too late ;
it is probably a symptom at least of the acetous fermen¬
tation, which if it takes place in any degree must be in¬
jurious. Yet if the casks be bunged tight, some crite¬
rion is necessary; otherwise, if the vinous fermenta¬
tion have not yet finally ceased, or should recommence,
the casks will be endangered, and the liquor injured.
Hence, in the practice of the most cautious manager
whose practice I have had an opportunity of observing,
the bungs are first driven in lightly, when the liquor
is fine, and the vinous fermentation is judged to be
over; and some time afterward, when all danger is
past, to fill up the casks, and drive the bungs securely
with a rag, and rosin them over at top. Most farmers
are of opinion, that after the liquor is done ferment¬
ing, it ought to have something to feed upon ; that is,
to prevent it from running into the acetous fermenta¬
tion. For this purpose some put in parched beans,
others egg-shells, some mutton suet, &c. Mr Mar¬
shall does not doubt that something may be useful; and
thinks that isinglass may be as proper as any tiling that
can be got. 618
VII. Bottling. This depends greatly on the qua- Bottling,
lity of the liquors themselves. Good cyder can seldom
be bottled with propriety under a year old: sometimes
not till two. The proper time is when it has acquired
the utmost degree of richness and flavour in the casks ;
and this it will preserve for many years in bottles. It
ought to be quite fine at the time of bottling; or if
not so naturally, ought to be fined artificially with isin¬
glass and eggs. . 6l9
The liquor, called cyderkin,purre, or perkin, is made Of cydsi-
of the murk or gross matter remaining after the cyder kin.
is pressed out. To make this liquor, the murk is put
into a large vat, with a proper quantity of boiled water,
which has stood till it be cold again : if half the quan¬
tity of water be used that there was of cyder, it will
be good ; if the quantities be equal, the cyderkin will
be small. The whole is left to infuse 48 hours, and
then well pressed; what is squeezed out by the press is
immediately tunned up and stopped ; it is fit to drink in
a few days. It clarifies of itself, and serves in families
instead of small beer. It will keep, if boiled, after pres-^f ^ e„r
sure, with a convenient quantity ot hops. cording to
Dr Rush’*
We must not conclude this section without parti-receipt.
cular
>art III. A G R I C U
.lairing of cular notice of the liquor called cyder wine, which is
Fruit Li- made from the juice of apples taken from the press
quors. and boiled, and which being kept three or four years
to resem|,]e Rhenish. The method of pre¬
paring this wine, as communicated by Dr Rush of
America, where it is much practised, consists in eva¬
porating in a brewing copper the fresh apple-juice
till half of it be consumed. The remainder is then
immediately conveyed into a wooden cooler, and af¬
terwards is put into a proper cask, with an addition
of yeast, and fermented in the ordinary way. The
process is evidently borrowed from what has long
been practised on the recent juice of the grape, under
the term of vin cuit, or boiled wine, not only in Italy,
but also in the islands of the Archipelago, from time
immemorial.
This process has lately become an object of imitation
in the cyder counties, and particularly in the west of
England, where it is reported that many hundred hogs¬
heads of this wine have already been made : and as it
is said to betray no sign of an impregnation of copper
by the usual chemical tests, it is considered as perfect¬
ly wholesome, and is accordingly drunk without ap¬
prehension by the common people. Others, however,
suspect its innocence ; whence it appeared an object
of no small moment to determine in so doubtful a mat¬
ter, whether or not the liquor acquires any noxious
quality from the copper in which it is boiled. With
* BatA Pa-this view Dr Fothergill * made a variety of experi-
vol. v. ments j and the result seemed to afford a strong pre-
?• 33°- sumption that the cyder wine does contain a minute
impregnation of copper j not very considerable indeed,
but yet sufficient, in the doctor’s opinion, to put the
public on their guard concerning a liquor that comes
in so very “ questionable a shape.”
It is a curious chemical fact, he observes, if it be
really true, that acid liquors, while kept boiling in
copper vessels, acquire little or no impregnation from
the metal, but presently begin to act upon it when
left to stand in the cold. Can this be owing to the
agitation occasioned by boiling, or the expulsion of
the aerial acid ? Atmospheric air powerfully corrodes
copper, probably through the intervention of the aerial
or rather nitrous acid, for both are now acknowledged
to be present in the atmosphere. But the latter is
doubtless a much stronger menstruum of copper than the
former.
In the present process the liquor is properly directed
to be passed into a wooden cooler as soon as the boil¬
ing is completed. But as all acids, and even common
water, acquire an impregnation and unpleasant taste,
from standing in copper vessels in the cold, why may
not the acid juice of apples act in some degree on the
copper before the boiling commences ? Add to this,
that brewing coppers, without far more care and at¬
tention than is generally bestowed on them in keeping
them clean, are extremely apt to contract verdigrise,
(a rank poison), as appears from the blue or green
streaks very visible when these vessels are minutely
examined. Should the unfermented juice be thought
incapable of acting on the copper either in a cold or
boiling state, yet no one will venture to deny its
power of washing off or dissolving verdigrise already
formed on the internal surface of the vessel. Sup¬
pose only one-eighth part of a grain of verdigrise to be
L T U R E. 515
contained in a bottle of this wine, a quantity that Fences,
may elude the ordinary tests, and that a bottle should —v-—'
be drunk daily by a person without producing any vio¬
lent symptoms or internal uneasiness ; yet what person
in his senses would knowingly choose to hazard the ex¬
periment of determining how long he could continue
even this quantity of a slow poison in his daily beve¬
rage with impunity ? And yet it is to be feared the
experiment is but too often unthinkingly made, not
only with cyder wine, but also with many of the foreign
wines prepared by a similar process. For the grape
juice, when evaporated in a copper vessel, under the
denomination of vino coto or boiled wine, cannot but
acquire an equal, if not yet stronger impregnation of the
metal, than the juice of apples, seeing that verdigrise
itself is manufactured merely by the application of the
acid husks of grapes to plates of copper.
Independent of the danger of any metallic impreg¬
nation, the doctor thinks, it may be justly questioned
how far the process of preparing boiled wines is neces¬
sary or reconcileable to reason or economy. The
evaporation of them must by long boiling not only oc¬
casion an unnecessary waste of both liquor and fuel,
but also dissipates certain essential principles, without
which the liquor can never undergo a complete fer¬
mentation 5 and without a complete fermentation there
can be no perfect wine. Hence the boiled wines are
generally crude, heavy, and flat, liable to produce in¬
digestion, flatulency, and diarrhoea. If the evapora¬
tion be performed hastily, the liquor contracts a burnt
empyreumatic taste, as in the present instance j if slow¬
ly, the greater is the danger of a metallic impregna¬
tion. For the process may be presumed to be gene¬
rally performed in a vessel of brass or copper, as few
families possess any other that is sufficiently capacious.
Nor can a vessel of cast-iron, though perfectly safe, be
properly recommended for this purpose, as it would pro¬
bably communicate a chalybeate taste and dark colour
to the liquor. At all events, brass and copper vessels
ought to be entirely banished from this and every other
culinary process.
Sect. X. O/'Fences.
621
We shall conclude the present subject of agriculture Kinds of
by taking notice of the various kinds of fences thatfence®
may be found valuable in it.—Kobert Somerville, Esq.mcra
of Haddington, in a communication to the Board of
Agriculture, has endeavoured to enumerate the whole
simple and compound fences that are at present used.
Simple fences are those that consist of one kind only,
as a ditch, a hedge, or a Yiv\\.—+Compound fences are
made by the union of two or more of these, as a hedge
and ditch, or hedge and wall. The following is the
list which he has given of them:
“ Simple Fences.
I. Simple ditch, with a bank on one side.
II. Double ditch, with a bank of earth between.
III. Bank of earth, with a perpendicular facing of sod.
IV. Ha-ha, or sunk fence.
V. Palings, or timber fences, of different kinds, viz.
1. Simple nailed paling of rough timber.
2. Jointed horizontal paling.
3. Upright lath paling.
4. Horizontal
5i6 AGRICULTURE. Practice.
Fences. 4. Horizontal paling of young firs.
*v-„ ,j Upright ditto of do.
6. Chain fence.
, 7. Net fence.
8. Rope fence.
9. Flake or hurdle fence.
10. Osier or willow fence.
11. Fence of growing posts.
12. Shingle fence, horizontal.
13. Ditto, upright.
14. Warped paling.
15. Open paling, warped with dead thorns or branches
of trees.
VI. Dead hedges, various kinds.
VII. Live hedges.
VIII. Walls.
1. Dry stone wall, coped and uncoped.
2. Stone and lime ditto, do.
3. Stone and clay, do.
4. Stone and clay, harled, or dashed with lime.
5. Dry stone, ditto, lipped with lime.
6. Dry stone, ditto, lipped and harled.
7. Dry stone, pirned and harled.
8. Brick walls.
9. Frame walls.
10. Galloway dike or wall.
11. Turf wall.
12. Turf and stone in alternate layers.
13. Mud walls, with straw.
“ Compound Fences.
1. Hedge and ditch, with or without paling.
2. Double ditto.
3. Hedge and bank, with or without paling.
4. Hedge in the face of a bank.
5. Hedge on the top of a bank.
6. Devonshire fence.
7. Hedge, with single or double paling.
8. Hedge and dead hedge.
9. Hedge and wall.
10. Hedge, ditch, and wall.
11. Hedge in the middle of a wall.
12. Hedge and ditch, with rows of trees.
13. Hedge, or hedge and wall, with belt of planting.
14. Fledge with the corners planted.
15. Reed fence, or port and rail, covered with reeds.”
Ditches. Of the nature of each of these, and the advantages
attending the use of them, we shall take some short no¬
tice. The ditch, which is one of the simple fences, is
most frequently considered merely as an open drain in¬
tended to relieve the soil of superfluous moisture. It
is frequently, also, however, made use of without any
such intention, as a fence for the confinement of cattle j
but it is more frequently used with the double view of
serving as a fence, and as a drain. It is made in a va¬
riety of ways, according to the object in view. If a
ditch is meant to be used merely as a drain, the earth
thrown out of it ought by no means to be formed into
a bank upon the side of it, because such a practice, as
formerly stated, when treating of draining, has a ten¬
dency to injure its utility by cutting off its communi¬
cation with one side of the field to be drained 5 but
when a ditch is intended to be used as a fence, a dif¬
ferent rule of proceeding must be followed.. In that
2
case, the object in view will be greatly forwarded by Fence.,
forming the earth taken out of the ditch into a bank *■—
upon its side, and when added to the depth of the ditch,
will form a barrier of considerable value.
Ditches are sometimes formed of an uniform breadth
at top and bottom. This kind of ditch is liable to
many objections. After frosts and rains, its sides are
perpetually crumbling down and falling in, and if the
field in which such a ditch is placed have a consider¬
able declivity, the bottom of the ditch will be extreme¬
ly liable to be undermined by any current of water,
that either permanently or casually takes place in it $
at the same time, such ditches have been found very
useful in low-lying clay or carse soils where the country
is level. From the nature of the soil, the sides of the
ditches in such situations are tolerably durable. No
rapid current of water can exist to undermine them j
and, by their figure, they withdraw from the plough the
smallest possible portion of surface.
Other ditches are constructed wide above, with a
gradual slope from both sides downwards. This form
of a ditch is in general the best, where it is at all to be
used for the drainage of the field, as the sides are not sa
liable as in the former case to be excavated by the cur¬
rent of water. Fxence it is more durable, and by dimi¬
nishing the quantity of digging at the bottom, it is more
easily executed.
A third kind of ditches are so formed as to have
one side sloping, and the other perpendicular. This
kind of ditch partakes of the whole perfections and
imperfections of the two former. It is extremely use¬
ful, however, in fields of which sheep form a part of
the stock, and where the bottom of the ditch contains
a current of water ; for, in such cases, when sheep
tumble into a deep ditch, whose sides are pretty steep,
they are very apt to perish ; but by making one side
of the ditch very much sloped, while the other ap¬
proaches to the perpendicular, they are enabled to make
their escape ; while at the same time by the bed of
the stream being widened, the perpendicular side of
the ditch is less liable to be undermined. When the
earth taken out of a ditch is formed into a bank on one
side, a projecting vacant space of six or eight inches
ought always to be left between the bank and the ditch,
to prevent the earth from tumbling in and filling up the
ditch.
A double ditch, with a bank of earth between the
two, formed out of the earth obtained by digging them,
has many obvious advantages over the single ditch,
when considered as a fence j for the earth taken out of
the two ditches, when properly laid up in the middle,
will naturally become a very formidable rampart, which
cattle will not readily attempt to cross. It is also ex¬
cellently adapted for the purpose of open drainage, and
it ought always to be used upon the sides of highways,
where the adjoining lands have a considerable declivity
towards the road. In such cases the inner ditch re¬
ceives the water from the field, and prevents it from
washing down or overflowing the road in the time of
heavy rains : an inconvenience which frequently can¬
not otherwise be avoided.
I he bank of earth, with a perpendicular facing of Bank of
sod, and a slope behind, is useful in some situations, asearth.
in making folds for the confinement of sheep or cattle,
in which case the front or perpendicular side of the
bank
624
'he ha-ha,
r sunk
hrt III. A G R I
Fences, bank must be turned inwards. It is also valuable on
 v the sides of highways to protect the adjoining fields,
and also for fencing belts ot planting, or inclosing stack¬
yards and cottages. The front of the bank is made with
the turfs taken from the surface of the sloping ditch,
and the mound at the back with the earth taken out of
it. This fence, when well executed, is said to last a
considerable time.
The ha-ha, or sunk fence, very nearly resembles the
■Kce mound of earth with the perpendicular facing of turf,
with this difference, that the facing of the ha ha is of
stone. The height of both depends almost entirely up¬
on the depth of the ditch ; both of them in truth consist
of the kind of ditch already mentioned, of which the
one side slopes while the other is perpendicular, and
differ from it chiefly in this respect, that the perpendi¬
cular side is faced with turf or stone. The stone¬
facing is made either of dry stone, or of stone and lime.
In the Agricultural Report of Cromarty, the mode of
making the sunk fence is thus described: “ Upon the
line where this fence is intended, begin to sink your
ditch, taking the earth from as far as eight feet out¬
ward, and throwing it up on the inside of the lines.
This ditch and bank is not made quite perpendicular,
but inclining inward towards the field as it rises; to
this is built a facing of dry stone, four feet and a half
in height, one foot and three quarters broad at bottom,
and one foot at top, over which a coping of turf is laid :
the ditch or sunk part forms an excellent drain. The
whole of this is performed, when the stones (we shall
suppose) can be procured at a quarter of a mile’s di¬
stance, for 6d. per yard.” The principal defect of the
sunk fence, consists in this, that unless the bank at the
back of it is considerably steep, or has a railing at the
top, it forms a kind of snare on that side for cattle, as
they must always be apt to tumble over it in dark
625 nights.
[lings. Paling, or timber fences, are in many places much
used, though they can never be considered with pro¬
priety as forming permanent inclosures. Of whatever
materials they are formed, their decay commences from
the instant they are erected. Their decay begins with
the part of the paling that is put into the ground,
which is speedily, rotted by the moisture, or consumed
by worms or other animals that attack it. To guard
as much as possible against this cause of decay, various
devices have been adopted. It is a very general prac¬
tice to burn the surface of that part of the standards of
the paling which is meant to be driven into the earth.
It is also customary to cover the same part of the wood
with a strong coat of coarse oil paint, and Lord Dun-
donald’s coal varnish has been recommended with this
view. The points of the standards that are to be fixed
in the earth, ought to be dipped in the varnish while
it is boiling hot. Common tar or melted pitch have
also been used with tolerable success to defend the ex¬
tremities of the standards of paling. In some cases
where the expence could be afforded, large stones have
been sunk into the earth, with holes cut into them
of a size adapted to receive the ends of the posts
of the paling. The durability of the wood in this
case is greater, but it bears no proportion to the ad¬
ditional expence incurred. When posts for paling
can be obtained consisting of branches of trees, with
the bark still upon them, this natural covering enables
CULTURE.
them to remain uncorrupted for a longer period than
can be accomplished by any artificial coating. It is no
objection to this, that a part of the uncovered wood,
or the bottom of the stake or post, must be inserted in
the earth ; for it is not at the bottom that stakes or
posts begin to decay, but at the uppermost place at
which the earth touches them, or between the wet and
the dry as it is called. Of the kinds of paling it is un¬
necessary to say much.
I he simple nailed paling of rough timber, consists of
posts or stakes inserted in the earth, and crossed with
three, four, or more horizontal bars or slabs as they
are called in Scotland. It is the most common of all,
and is used to protect young hedges, or to strengthen
ditches when used as fences.
The jointed horizontal paling, consists of massy
square poles drove into the earth, and having openings
cut into them for the reception of the extremities of
the horizontal bars. These openings, however, weaken
the poles much, and cause them soon to decay 5 but
this kind of paling has a very handsome and substantial
appearance.
1 he upright lath paling, is formed by driving strong
piles of wood into the earth, and crossing these at top
and bottom, with horizontal pieces of similar strength.
Upon these last are nailed, at every 6 or 12 inches di¬
stance, laths or pieces of sawn wood, of the shape and
size of the laths used for the roofs of tiled houses. This
kind of paling prevents cattle from putting their heads
through to crop or injure young hedges or trees.
The horizontal paling of firs, or the weedings of
other young trees, does not differ from the palings al¬
ready described, unless in this respect, that the materials
of which it is formed, consist not of timber cut down
for the purpose, but of the thinnings of w’oods or belts
of planting. Such palings are usually more formidable
to cattle than any other, because when the lateral twigs
that grow out of large branches are loped off in a coarse
manner, the branch still retains a roughness which keeps
cattle at a distance.
Ihe chain horizontal fence is made by fixing strong
piles of wood in the earth in the direction in which
the fence is to run, and fixing three chains at regular
distances, extending horizontally from pile to pile, in¬
stead of cross bars of wood. Instead of posts of wood1,
pillars of mason work are sometimes used, and between
these the chains are extended. A chain fence will
confine horses or cattle, but is unfit to confine sheep or
hogs. From its expensive nature, it can only be used
in public walks, or for stretching across streams or
pieces of water, where the inclosure can be completed
in no other way.
The net fence is used for pleasure grounds, and in¬
stead of chains, as in the former case, it consists of a
strong net extended between upright piles. Such a
fence may be a very pretty ornament, but could be of
little use against the horns of cattle.
The rope fence is constructed like the chain fence*
and differs from it only in the use of cords instead of
metal chains, and has the same defect of being useless
against swine and sheep.
The moveable wooden fence or flake, or hurdle
fence, consists of a kind of moveable paling, used for
confining sheep or cattle to a certain spot when feeding
upon a turnip field, and in this view, it is extremely
useful y;
5i8
AGRICULTURE.
Practice.
Bences, useful j for if the cattle were allowed to range at large
■—-v-—^ over the field, a great quantity of the turnips would be
destroyed by having pieces eaten from them, which
would immediately spoil and rot before the remainder
could be consumed j whereas, by the use of these move-
able palings, the sheep or cattle having only a certain
quantity of food allotted to them at a time, are compelled
to eat it clean up without any loss.
The osier or willow fence, or wattled fence, is made
by driving in the direction of the fence, stakes of wil¬
low or poplar, of half the thickness of a man’s wrist, in¬
to the earth, about 18 inches asunder. They are then
bound together with small twigs of the willows or pop¬
lars twisted and interwoven with them. If the upright
stakes have been recently cut down, and if the fence
is made about the end of autumn, they will take root
and grow in the spring. If their new lateral branches
are afterwards properly interwoven and twisted together,
they will become in two or three years a permanent and
almost impenetrable fence.
The paling of growing trees, or rails nailed to grow¬
ing posts, is formed by planting beech, larch, or other
trees, at the distance of a yard from each other, in the
direction in which the fence is wanted. When 10 or
12 feet high, they must be cut down to six feet. The
cutting of the tops will make them push out a great
number of lateral branches, which may be interwoven
with the upright part of the tree, as in the case of the
willow fence already mentioned.
The horizontal and upright shingle fence is formed
in this manner; stout piles are driven into the earth,
and deals, of from half an inch to an inch thick, are
nailed horizontally upon them in such a way, that the
under edge of the uppermost deal projects over the up¬
per edge of the one immediately below it, like slates or
tiles upon houses. In like manner, the shingles or boards
may be placed perpendicularly and bound together, by
being nailed to horizontal bars of wood.
The warped paling consists of pieces of wood driven
into the earth, which are twisted and interwoven with
each other, so as to form a very open net-work; the
tops of the pieces of wood being bound together by wil¬
lows or other twigs.
The light open fence with thorns, or branches of
trees wove into it, is nothing more than a common
paling, whose interstices are filled up with thorns or
branches of trees. It is a very effectual fence while it
lasts.
Dead hedges are made of the prunings of trees, or
the tops of live hedges that have been cut down. They
are sometimes made upon the top of the mound of
earth taken out of a ditch, by inserting the thick ends
of the twigs in the earth, and making them rest in an
oblique manner. Sometimes the stronger pieces or stakes
are fixed in the earth, and the smaller twigs are used to
fasten them together at top, by a kind of net-work.
What is called the stake and rice fence in Scotland, con¬
sists of a dead hedge or fence, formed of upright posts,
the intervals between which are filled up with twigs
woven horizontally. All these, however, can only be
regarded as fences of a very temporary nature, which
6z6 are constantly in want of repairs, and therefore requiring
General di-a continual expence.
planting ^ ®ef°re planting live hedges, it is proper to consider
hedges.* the nature of the land, and what sorts of plants will
3
thrive best in it; and also, what is the soil from whence Fences.
the plants are to be taken. As for the size, the sets ' ■/—_
ought to be about the thickness of one’s little finger, and
cut within about four or five inches of the ground ; they
ought to be fresh taken up, straight, smooth, and well-
rooted. Those plants that are raised in the nursery are
to be preferred.
In planting outside hedges, the turf is to be laid,
with the grass-side downwards, on that side of the ditch
on which the bank is designed to be made ; and some of
the best mould should be laid upon it to bed the quick,
which is to be set upon it a foot asunder. When the
first row of quick is set, it must be covered with mould ;
and when the bank is a foot high, you may lay another
row of sets against the spaces of the former, and cover
them as you did the others : the bank is then to be
topped with the bottom of the ditch, and a dry or dead
hedge laid, to shade and defend the under plantation.
Stakes should then be driven into the loose earth, so
low as to reach the firm ground: these are to be
placed at about two feet and a half distance : and in
order to render the hedge yet stronger, you may edder
it, that is, bind the top of the stakes with small long
poles ; and when the eddering is finished, drive the
stakes anew.
The quick must be kept constantly weeded, and se-Ofmana-
cured from being cropped by cattle ; and in February ging the
it will be proper to cut it within an inch of the ground, hawthorn
which will cause it strike root afresh, and help it much
in the growth.
The crab is frequently planted for hedges; and if Of the
the plants are raised from the kernels of the small wild crab,
crabs, they are much to be preferred to those raised
from the kernels of all sorts of apples without distinc¬
tion ; because the plants of the true small crab never
shoot so strong as those of the apples, and may there¬
fore be better kept within the proper compass of a
hedge. _
The black thorn, or sloe, is frequently planted for Black
hedges ; and the best method of doing it is to raise the
plants from the stones of the fruit, which should be sown
about the middle of January, if the weather will permit,
in the place where the hedge is intended; but when
they are kept longer out of the ground, it will be pro¬
per to mix them with sand, and keep them in a cool
place. The same fence will do for it when sown, as
when it is planted. 6p
The holly is sometimes planted for hedges; but Holly,
where it is exposed, there will be great difficulty in
pi’eventing its being destroyed : otherwise, it is by far
the most beautiful plant; and, being an evergreen, will
afford much better shelter for cattle in winter than any
other sort of hedge. The best method of raising these
hedges, is to sow the stones in the place where the
hedge is intended; and, where this can be convenient¬
ly done, the plants will make a much better progress
than those that are transplanted; but these berries
should be buried in the ground several months before
they are sown. The way to do this, is to gather the
berries about Christmas, when they are usually ripe,
and put them into large flower-pots, mixing some sand
with them; then dig holes in the ground, into which
the pots must be sunk, covering them over with earth,
about ten inches thick. In this place they must re¬
main till the following October, when they should be
taken
A G R I C
3f garden
(edges.
Part III.
Fences, taken up, anti sown in the place where the hedge is
—-v——^ intended to be made. The ground should be well
trenched and cleared from the roots of all bad weeds,
bushes, trees, &c. Then two drills should be made,
at about a foot distance from each other, and about
two inches deep, into which the seed should be scat¬
tered pretty close, lest some should fail. When the
plants grow up, they must be carefully weeded : and
if they are designed to be kept very neat, they should
be eat twice a-year, that is in May and in August;
but it they are only designed for fences, they need only
be sheered in July. The fences for these hedges, while
young, should admit as much free air as possible $ the
best sort are these made with posts and rails, or with
ropes drawn through holes made in the posts j and if
the ropes are painted over with a composition of melted
pitch, brown Spanish colour and oil, well mixed, they
will last several years.
Hedges for ornament in gardens are sometimes
planted with evergreens, in which case the holly is
preferable to any other ; next to this, most people
prefer the yew j but the dead colour of its leaves
renders those hedges less agreeable. The laurel is one
of the most beautiful evergreens $ but the shoots are so
luxuriant that it is difficult to keep it in any tolerable
shape ; and as the leaves are large, to prevent the dis¬
agreeable appearance given them by their being cut
through with'the sheers, it will be the best way to prune
them with a knife, cutting the shoots just down to a
leaf. The laurustinus is a very fine plant for this pur¬
pose ; hut the same objection may be made to this as
to the laurel: this, therefore, ought only to be pruned
with a knife in April when the flowers are going off 5
but the new shoots of the same spring must by no means
be shortened. T-he small-leaved and rough leaved
laurustinus are the best plants for this purpose. The
true phiilyrea is the next best plant for hedges, which
may be led up to the height of 10 or 12 feet 5 and if
they are kept narrow at the top, that there may not
be too much width for the snow to lodge upon them,
they will be close and thick, and make a fine appear¬
ance. The ilex, or evergreen oak, is also planted
for hedges, and is a fit plant for those designed to
grow very tall.—-The deciduous plants usually planted
to form hedges in gardens are, the hornbeam, which
may be kept neat with less trouble than most other'
plants, l he beech, which has the same good quali¬
ties with the hornbeam ; but the gradual falling of its
leaves in winter causes a continual littter. The small¬
leaved English elm is a proper tree for tall hedges-,
but these should not be planted closer than eight or
ten feet. The lime-tree has also been recommended
for the same purpose j but after they have stood some
years, they grow very thin at bottom, and their leaves
frequently turn of a black disagreeable colour.
>■ shrubs • Many 0i the flowerIng shrubs have also been planted
0 " m hedges, such as roses, honey-suckles, sweet briar, &c.
but these are difficult to train ; and if they were cut to
bring them within compass, their flowers, which are
their greatest beauty, will be entirely destroyed. A
correspondent of the society for improving agriculture
in Scotland, however, informs us, that he tried with
success the eglantine, sweet briar, or dog rose, when
stU the methods of making hedges practised in Essex
632
•f flower-
U L T U R E. 5,9
and Hampshire had been tried in vain. His method Fences,
was to gather the hips of this plant, and to lay them 1
in a tub till March ; the seeds were then easily rubbed
out j after which they were sowed in a piece of ground
prepared for garden pease. Next year they came up j
and the year after they were planted in the following
mam.ei. After marking out the ditch, the plants wTere
laid about 18 inches asunder upon the side grass, and
their roots covered with the first turfs that were taken
off from the surface of the intended ditch. The earth
si e of these turfs was placed next to the roots, and
other earth laid upon the turfs which had been taken
out of the ditch.. In four or five years these plants
made a fence which neither horses nor cattle of any
kind could pass. Even in two or three years none of
the larger cattle will attempt a fence of this kind,
oheep indeed will sometimes do so, but they are always
entangled to such a degree, that they would remain
there till they died unless relieved. Old briars dug up
and planted soon make an excellent fence ; and, wdiere
thin, it niay be easily thickened by laying down bran¬
ches, which in one year will make shoots of six or seven
feet. I hey bear clipping very vrell.
. '^1 Anderson, who hath treated the subject of hedg-Dr Aiider-
ing very particularly, is of opinion, that some other son’s direc-
plants besides those above mentioned might be usefullytions*
employed in the construction of hedges. Among these
he reckons the common willow. This, he says, by no Essai/son
means requires the wetness of soil which is commonly
supposed. “ It is generally imagined (says he), that ^
the willow can be made to thrive nowhere except iq C*
wet or boggy ground : but this is one of those vulgar
errors, founded upon inaccurate observation, too often to
be met with in subjects relating to rural affairs j for ex¬
perience has sufficiently convinced me, that this plant
will not only grow, but thrive, in any rich well culti¬
vated soil (unless in particular circumstances that need
not here be mentioned) even although it he of a very
ry nature. It could not, however, in general be made
to thrive, if planted in the same manner as thorns; nor
would it, in any respect, be proper to train it up for a
fence in the same way as that plant. The willow, as anf l34 -i
fence, could seldom be successfully employed, but fori0w. * ^ "
dividing into separate inciosures any extensive field of
rich ground : and, as it is always necessary to put the
soil into as good order as possible before a hedge of this
kind is planted in it, the easiest method of putting it
into the necessary high tilth, will be to mark ofFffie
boundaries of your several fields in the winter, or early
in the spring, with a design to give a complete fallow to
a narrow ridge, six or eight feet broad, in the middle of
which the hedge is intended to be planted the ensuing
winter. This ridge ought to be frequently ploughed
during the summer season, and in the autumn to be well ,
manured with dung or lime, or both (for it cannot be
made too rich), and be neatly formed into a ridge be¬
fore winter.
“ Having prepared the ground in this manner, it
will be in readiness to receive the hedge, which ought
to be planted as early in winter as can be got conve¬
niently done} as the willow is much hurt by being
planted late in the spring. But before you begin to
make a fence of this kind, it will be necessary to pro¬
vide a sufficient number of plants : which will be best
done
.520 AGRICULTURE.
Fences, done by previously rearing them in a nursery of your
Practi
as near the field to be inclosed as you can conve¬
niently have it; for as they are very bulky, the car¬
riage of them would be troublesome if they were
brought from any considerable distance. The best
kinds of willow for this use, are such as make the
longest and strongest shoots, and are not of a brittle
nature. All the large kinds of hoop-willows may be
employed for this use 5 but there is another kind with
stronger and more taper shoots, covered with a dark
green bark when young, which, upon the older shoots,
becomes of an ash grey, of a firm texture, and a little
rough to the touch. The leaves are not so long, and
a great deal broader than those of the common hoop-
willow, pretty thick and of a dark-green colour.
"VY hat name this species is usually known by, I cannot
tell j but as it becomes very quickly of a large size at
the root, and is strong and firm, it ought to be made
choice of for this purpose in preference to all other
kinds that I have seen. The shoots ought to be of
two or three years growtli before they can be proper¬
ly used, and should never be less than eight or nine feet
in length. These ought to be cut over close by the
ground immediately before planting, and carried to
the field at their whole length. The planter having
stretched a line along the middle of the ridge which
was prepared for their reception, begins at one end
thereof, thrusting a row of these plants firmly into the
ground, close by the side of the line, at the distance of
18 or 20 inches from one another j making them all
slant a little to one side in a direction parallel to the
line. This being finished, let him begin at the oppo¬
site end of the line, and plant another row in the inter¬
vals between the plants of the former row j making
these incline as much as the others, but in a direction
exactly contrary ; and then, plaiting these basket-ways,
work them into lozenges like a net, fastening the tops
by plaiting the small twigs with one another, which
with very little trouble may be made to bind together
very firmly. The whole, when finished, assumes a
very beautiful net-like appearance, and is even at first
a tolerable good defence j and, as these plants im¬
mediately take root and quickly increase in size, it
becomes, after a few years, a very strong fence which
nothing can penetrate. This kind of bedge I myself
have employed; and find that a man may plant and
twist properly about a hundred yards in a day, if the
plants be laid down to his hand: and in a situation
such as I have described, I know no kind of fence
which could be reared at such a small expence so quick¬
ly become a defence, and continue so long in good or*
But it will be greatly improved by putting a
ce.
Pences.
der.
plant of eglantine between each two plants of willow,
which will quickly spring up and be supported by them j
and, by its numerous prickles, would effectually pre¬
serve the defenceless willow from being browsed upon
by cattle.
“ As it will be necessary to keep the narrow ridge,
upon which the hedge is planted, in culture for one
year at least, that the plants of eglantine may not be
choked by weeds, and that the roots of the willow
may be allowed to spread with the greater ease in the
tender mould produced by this means, it will be proper
to stir the earth once or twice by a gentle horse-hoe in
63S
the beginning of summer ; and, in the month of June,
it may be sowed with turnips, or planted with cole-
worts, which will abundantly repay the expence of the
fallow.”
The same author also gives the following useful di-Of plantin';
rections for planting hedges in situations very much ex- hedges in
posed to the weather, and recovering them when on exP°.se<l s>-
the point of decaying. “ Those who live in an open and
uncultivated country, have many difficulties to encoun-veiing
ter, which others who inhabit more warm and shirker-them when
ed regions never experience; and, among the diffi-‘1eca3;e(b
culties, may be reckoned that of hardly getting hedges
to grow with facility. For, where a young hedge is1'’ ’
much exposed to violent and continued gusts of wind,
no art will ever make it rise with so much freedom, or
grow with such luxuriance, as it would do in a more
sheltered situation and favourable exposure.
“ But although it is impossible to rear hedges in this
situation to so much perfection as in the others, yet they
may be reared even there, with a little attention and
pains, so as to become very fine fences.
“ It is adviseable in all cases, to plant the hedges up¬
on the face of a bank ; but it becomes absolutely ne¬
cessary in such an exposed situation as that I have now
described : for the bank, by breaking the force of the
wind, screens the young hedge from the violence of
the blast, and allows it to advance, for some time at
first, with much greater luxuriance than it otherwise
could have done.
“ But as it may be expected soon to grow as high
as the bank, it behoves the provident husbandman to
prepare for that event, and guard, with a wise forecast,
against the inconvenience that may be expected to arise
from that circumstance.
“ With this view, it will be proper for him, instead
of making a single ditch, and planting one hedge, to
raise a pretty high bank, with a ditch on each side of
it, and a hedge on each face of the bank ; in which
situation, the bank will equally shelter each of the two
hedges while they are lower than it; and, when they
at length become as high as the bank, the one hedge
will in a manner afford shelter to the other, so as to
enable them to advance with much greater luxuriance
than either of them would have done singly.
“ To effectuate this still more perfectly, let a row
of service trees be planted along the top of the bank,
at the distance of 18 inches from each other, with a
plant of eglantine between each two services. This
plant will advance, in some degree, even in this expo¬
sed situation; and by its numerous shoots, covered
with large leaves, will effectually screen the hedge on
each side of it, which, in its turn, will receive some
support and shelter from them ; so that they will be
enabled to advance all together, and form, in time, a
close, strong, and beautiful fence.
“ The service is a tree but little known in Scotland;
although it is one of those that ought perhaps to be
often cultivated there in preference to any other tree
whatever, as it is more hardy, and, in an exposed situ¬
ation, affords more shelter to other plants than almost
any other tree known: for it sends out a great many
strong branches from the under part of the stem,
which, in time, assume an upright direction, and con¬
tinue to advance with vigour, and carry many leaves to
the
Part HI.
Fences, tlie very bottom, almost as long as the tree exists : so
that if it is not pruned, it rises a large close bush, till
it attains the height of a forest tree.
u It is of the same genus with the rawn-tree, and has
a great resemblance to it both in flower and fruit; its
branches are more waving and pliant j its leaves undi¬
vided, broad, and round, somewhat resembling the elm,
but white and mealy on the under side. It deserves to
be better known than it is at present.
“ But if, from the poorness of the soil in which
your hedge is planted, or from any other cause, it
should so happen, that, after a few years, the hedge
becomes sickly, and the plants turn poor and stunted
in appearance, the easiest and only effectual remedy for
that disease, is to cut the stems of the plants clean over,
at the height of an inch or two above the ground ; af¬
ter which they will send forth much stronger shoots
than they ever would have done without this operation.
And if the hedge be kept free of weeds, and trained
afterwards in the manner above described, it will, in
almost every case, be recovered, and rendered fresh and
vigorous.
“ This amputation ought to be performed in autumn,
or the beginning of winter; and in the spring, when
the young buds begin to show themselves, the stumps
ought to be examined with care, and all the buds be
rubbed off, excepting one or two of the strongest and
best placed, which should be left for a stem. For if
the numerous buds that spring forth round the stem are
allowed to spring up undisturbed, they will become in
a few years as weak and stunted as before ; and the
hedge will never afterwards be able to attain any consi¬
derable height, strength, or healthfulness.—I have seen
many hedges, that have been repeatedly cut over, to¬
tally ruined by this circumstance not having been at¬
tended to in proper time.
“ If the ground for sixteen or twenty feet on each
side of the hedge be fallowed at the time that this ope¬
ration is performed, and get a thorough dressing with
rich manures, and be kept in high order for some years
afterwards by good culture and meliorating crops, the
hedge will prosper much better than if this had been
omitted, especially if it had been planted on the level
ground, or on the bank of a shallow ditch.”
Mr Millar greatly recommends the black alder as
ack alder, superior to any other that can be employed in moist
soils. It may either be propagated by layers or trun¬
cheons about three feet long. The best time for plant¬
ing these last is in February or the month of March.
They ought to be sharpened at their largest end, and
the ground well loosened before they are thrust into
it, lest the bark should be torn off, which might occa¬
sion their miscarriage. They should be set at least two
feet deep, to prevent their being blown out of the
.ground by violent winds after they have made strong
shoots j and they should be kept clear of tall weeds
until they have got good heads, after which they will
require no farther care. When raised by laying down
the branches, it ought to be done in the month of Oc¬
tober and by that time twelvemonth they will have
roots sufficient for transplantation, which must be done
by digging a hole and loosening the earth in the
place where the plant is to stand. The young sets
must be planted at least a foot and a half deep ; and
their tops should be cut off to within about nine inches
Vol. I. Part II. f
AGRICULTURE.
fjS
t the
g37
of the ground ; by which means they will shoot out
many branches. This tree may be trained into very
thick and close hedges, to the height of 20 feet and
upwards. It will thrive exceedingly on the sides of
brooks j for it grows best when part of its roots are
in water 5 and may, if planted there, as is usual for
willows, be cut for poles every fifth or sixth year.
Its wood makes excellent pipes and staves ; for it will
last a long time under ground or in water : and it is
likewise in great estimation among plough-wrights,
turners, &c. as well as for making several of the uten¬
sils necessary for agriculture. Its bark also dyes a
good black.
The birch is another tree recommended by Mr Mil-Of the7
ler as proper for hedges; and in places where thebircl1-
young plants can be easily procured, he says that the
plantation of an acre will not cost 40 shillings, the af¬
ter expence will not exceed 20 shillings : so that the
whole will not come above three pounds. Ash trees
ought never to be permitted in hedges, both because
they injure the corn and grass by their wide extended
roots, and likewise on account of the property their
leaves have of giving a rank taste to butter made from
the milk of such cattle as feed upon the leaves. No
ash trees are permitted to grow in the good dairy-
counties. ' ^ ^
Where there are plenty of rough flat stones, the Of hedges
fences which bound an estate or farm are frequentlyraisccl otl
made with them. In Devonshire and Cornwall it fg the top of
common to build as it were two walls with these stones
laid upon one another; first two and then one be¬
tween : as the walls rise they fill the intermediate space
with earth, beat the stones in flat to the sides, which
makes them lie very firm, and so proceed till the
whole is . raised to the intended height. Quick hedges,
and even large timber trees, are planted upon these
walls, and thrive exceeding well. Such inclosures are
reckoned the best defence that can be had for the
ground and cattle ; though it can scarcely be supposed
but they must be disagreeable to the eye, and stand in
need of frequent repairs, by the stones "being forced out
of the way by cattle. The best way to prevent this is
to build such wall in the bottom of a ditch made wide
enough on purpose, and sloped down on each side.
Thus the deformity will be hid ; and as the cattle can¬
not stand to face the wall so as to attempt to leap over
it, the stones of which it is composed will be less liable
to be beaten down. The earth taken out of the ditch
may be spread on the adjacent ground, and its sides
planted with such trees or underwood as will best suit
the soil. By leaving a space of several feet on the in¬
side for timber, a supply of that valuable commodity
may be had without doing any injury to the more va¬
luable pasture. ^ ^
The following is an excellent method of making a Method of
durable and beautiful fence in grassy places. Dig construct-
pieces of turf four or five inches thick, the breadth ofinf an ex-
the spade, and about a foot in length. Lay these turfs
even by a line on one side, with the grass outward, at grassy pla.
the distance of ten or twelve inches within the markces.
at which the ditch afterwards to be dug in the solid
ground is to begin. Then lay, in the same manner,
but with their grass sides turned out the contrary way,
another row of turfs, at such a distance as to make a
breadth of foundation proportioned to the intended
$ V height
$2.2
Fences.
C40
re-,
commend¬
ed.
A G R I C U
height of the bank. Thus, even though the ground
should prove defective, the bank would be prevented
from giving way. A ditch may then be dug of what
depth and breadth you please •, or the ground may be
lowered with a slope on each side ; and in this case
there will be no loss of pasture by the fence j because
it may be sowed with hay-seeds, and will bear grass
on both sides. Part of the earth taken out of the
ditches or slopes will fill the chasm between the rows
of turf, and the rest may be scattered over the adjacent
ground. Three, four, or more layers of turf, may be
thus placed upon one another, and the interval be¬
tween them filled up as before till the bank is brought
to its desired height; only observing to give each side
of it a gentle slope for greater strength. The top of
this bank should be about two feet and a half wide,
and the whole of it filled up with earth, except a small
hollow in the middle to retain some rain. Quicksets
should then be planted along this top, and they will
soon form an admirable hedge. By this means a bank
four feet high, and a slope only two feet deep, will
make, besides the hedge, a fence six feet high, through
which no cattle will be able to force their way : for
the roots of the grass will bind the turf so together,
that in one year’s time it will become entirely solid ;
and it will be yet much stronger when the roots of the
quick shall have shot out among it. The only pre¬
cautions necessary to be observed in making this bank
are, 1. Not to make it when the ground is too dry ;
because, if a great deal of wet should suddenly fol¬
low, it will swell the earth so much as, perhaps, to
endanger the falling of some of the outside ; which,
however, is easily remedied if it should happen. 2. If
the slope be such as sheep can climb up, secure the
young quicks, at the time of planting them, by a small
dead hedge, either on or near the top, on both sides.
If any of the quicks should die, which they will hard¬
ly be more apt to do in this than in any other situa¬
tion, unless perhaps in extrerhely drv seasons, they
may be renewed by some of the methods already men¬
tioned.—Such fences will answer even for a park 5 espe¬
cially if we place posts and rails, about two feet high,
a little sloping over the side of the bank, on or near its
top : no deer can creep through this, nor even be able
to jump over it. It is likewise one of the best fences
for securing cattle ; and if the quicks on the banks be
kept clipped, it will form a kind of green wall plea¬
sing to the eye.
In the first volume of the Bath Papers we find elms
recommended for fences $ and the following method of
raising them for this purpose is said to be the best.
When elm timber is felled in the spring, sow the chips
made in trimming or hewing them green, on a piece
of ground newly ploughed, as you would corn, and
harrow them in. Every chip, which has an eye, or
bud-knot, or some bark on it, will immediately shoot
like the cuttings of potatoes ; and the plants thus
raised having no tap-roots, but shooting their fibres
horizontally in the richest part of the soil, will be more
vigorous, and may be more safely and easily transplant¬
ed, than when raised from seeds, or in any other me¬
thod. The plants thus raised for elm fences have
greatly the advantage of others; as five, six, and some¬
times more, stems will arise from the same chip; and
such plants, if cut down within three inches of the
3.,
Fences,
641
meet Observa-
L T U R E. Practice.
ground, will multiply their side shoots in proportion,
and make a hedge thicker, without running to naked 1
wood, than by any other method yet practised. If
kept clipped for three or four years, they will be al¬
most impenetrable.
In the second volume of the same work, we
with several observations on quick hedges by a gentle- on
man near Bridgewater. He prefers the white and black vU*,clc
thorns to all other plants for this purpose ; but is of °cs'
opinion, that planting timber trees in them at proper
intervals is a very eligible and proper method. He
raised some of his plants from haws in a nursery;
others he drew up in the woods, or wherever they
could be found. His hanks were made flat, and three
feet wide at the top, with a sloping side next the ditches,
which last were dug only two feet below the surface,
and one foot wide at bottom. The turfs were regu¬
larly laid, with the grass downwards, on that side of
the ditch on which the hedge was to be raised, and
the best of the mould laid at top. The sets were
straight, long, smooth, and even growing ones, plant¬
ed as soon as possible after taking up. They were
planted at a foot distance ; and about every 40 feet
young fruit-trees, or those of other kinds, such as ash,
oak, elm, beech, as the soil suited them. A second
row of quicksets was then laid on another bed of fresh
earth at the same time, and covered with good mould ;
after which the bank was finished and secured properly
from injuries by a dead hedge well wrought together,
and fastened by stakes of oak trees, on the top of the
bank at three feet distance. Wherever any of the
quicksets had failed or were of a dwindling appearance,
he had them replaced with fresh ones from the nur¬
sery, as well as such of the young trees as had been
planted on the top of the bank ; and cleared the whole
from weeds. Those most destructive to young hedges
are the white and black bryony, bindweed, and the
traveller’s joy. The root of white bryony is as big as
a man’s leg, and runs very deep : that of black bryony
often grows to 30 feet long, and with a kind of ten¬
drils takes hold of the root of the young quick, and
chokes it. This root must be dug very deep in order
to destroy it. The third is still more destructive to
young quicks than the other two, overshadowing the
hedge like an arbour. Its root is smaller than that of
the two former, but must be dug out very clean, as the
least piece left will send up fresh shoots. It is very
destructive to hedges to allow cattle to browse upon
them, which they are very apt to do ; but where cattle
of some kind must be allowed access to them, horses
will do by far the least mischief.
With regard to the advantages arising from hedges, Cyder fruit
our author observes, that if they were of no farthertre^^-
comraend-
ed in
use than as mere fences, it would be the farmer’s inte¬
rest to keep them up carefully ; for the better they are,
the more secure are his cattle and crops. But if a ju¬
dicious mixture of cyder fruit-trees were planted in
hedges, the profit arising from them only would abun¬
dantly repay the cost of the whole without any loss of
ground. It may possibly be objected by some, that
the hedges would often be hurt by the boys climb¬
ing up to get the fruit; but those who make it
should remember, or be told, that the best kinds of
cyder-fruit are so hard and austere at the time of their
being gathered, that nobody can eat them, and even
hoes
Fences. ho&s w*11 hardly touch them. But the greatest bene-
 ‘ , i fit, where no fruit-trees are planted, arises from the
thorns and wood which quick hedges yield for the fire
and other purposes.
Method of ^ he author of the Essays on Husbandry recommends
aising the hornbeam plant as one of the best yet known for
torubeam making fences, according to the method practised in
"erraany Germany, where such fences are common. “ When
the German husbandman (says'he) erects a fence of
this nature, he throws up a parapet of earth, with a
ditch on each side, and plants his hornbeam sets in such
a manner, that every two plants may be brought to in¬
tersect each other in the fox’m of St Andrew’s cross. In
that part where the two plants cross each other, he
gently scrapes off the bark, and binds them with straw
thwartwise. Here the two plants consolidate in a kind
of indissoluble knot, and push from thence horizontal
slanting shoots, which form a sort of living palisado or
chevaux de/rise ; so that such a protection may be call¬
ed a rural fortification. The hedges being pruned an¬
nually, and with discretion, will in a few years render
the fence impenetrable in every part.
)i Ander- “ It sometimes happens (says Hr Anderson) that a
an’s me- hedge may have been long neglected, and be in general
hod of ]n a healthy state, but full of gaps and openings, or so
ecay«(f atu^ straggling, as to form but a very imperfect
edges. 9ort °f fence. On these occasions, it is in vain to hope
to fill up the gaps by planting young quicks j for these
would always be outgrown, choked, and starved, by
the old plants: nor could it be recovered by cutting
clear over by the roots, as the gaps would still conti¬
nue where they formerly were. The only methods
that I know of rendering this a fence are, either to
mend up the gaps with dead wood, or to plas/i the
hedge; which last operation is always the most eli¬
gible where the gaps are not too large to admit of be¬
ing cured by this means.
“ The operation I here call plashing, may be de¬
fined, “ a wattling made of living wood.” To form
this, some stems are first selected, to be left as stakes
at proper distances, the tops of which are all cut over
at the height of four feet from the root. The straggling
side-branches of the other part of the hedge are also
lopped away. Several of the remaining plants are then
cut over, close by the ground, at convenient distances $
and the remaining plants are cut perhaps half through,
so as to permit them to be bent to one side. They
are then bent down almost to a horizontal position,
and interwoven with the upright stakes, so as to retain
them in that position. Care ought to he taken that
these be laid very low at those places where there were
formerly gaps *, which ought to be farther strengthened
by some dead stakes or truncheons of willows, which
will frequently take root in this case, and continue to
live. And sometimes a plant of eglantine will be able
to overcome the difficulties it there meets with, strike
root, and grow up so as to strengthen the hedge in a
most effectual manner.
“ The operator begins at one end of the field, and
proceeds regularly forward, bending all the stems in
one direction, so that the points rise above the roots of
the others, till the whole wattling is completed to the
same height as the uprights.
“ An expert operator will perform this work with
much greater expedition than one who has not seen it
done could easily imagine. And as all the diagonal
wattlings continue to live and send out shoots from
many parts of their stems, and as the upright shoots
that rise from the stumps of those plants that have been
cut over quickly rush up through the whole hedge,
these serve to unite the whole into one entire mass,
that forms a strong, durable, and beautiful fence.
1. Ins is the best method of recovering an old
neglected hedge that hath as yet come to my know¬
ledge.
In some cases it happens that the young shoots of
a hedge are killed every winter j in which case it soon
becomes dead and unsightly, and can never rise to any
considerable height. A remedy for this disease may
therefore be wished for.
“ Young hedges are observed to he chiefly affected
with this disorder} and it is almost always occasioned
by an injudicious management of the hedge, by means
of which it has been forced to send out too great a
number of shoots in summer, that are thus rendered so
small and weakly as to be unable to resist the severe
weather in winter.
“ It often happens that the owner of a young hedge,
with a view to render it very thick and close, cuts it
over with the shears a few inches above the ground the
first winter after planting} in consequence of which,
many small shoots spring out from each of the stems
that has been cut over :—Each of which, being after¬
wards cut over in the same manner, sends forth a still
greater number of shoots, which are smaller and smaller
in proportion to their number.
“ If the soil in which the hedge has been planted is
poor, in consequence of this management, the branches,
after a few years, become so numerous, that the hedge
is unable to send out any shoots at all, and the utmost
exertion of the vegetative powers enables it only to
put forth leaves. These leaves are renewed in a sicklv
state for some years, and at last cease to grow at all—
the branches become covered with fog, and the hedge
perishes entirely.
“ But if the soil be very rich, notwithstanding this
great multiplication of the stems, the roots will still
have sufficient vigour to force out a great many small
shoots, which advance to a great length, but never
attain a proportional thickness. And as the vigour
of the hedge makes them continue to vegetate very
late in autumn, the frosts come on before the tops of
these dangling shoots have attained any degree of
woody firmness, so that they are killed almost entirely
by it; the, whole hedge becomes covered with these
long dead shoots, which are always disagreeable to
look at, and usually indicate the approaching end of
the hedge.
“ The causes ol the disorder being thus explained, it
will readily occur, that the only radical cure is amputa¬
tion : which, by giving an opportunity to begin with
training the hedge anew, gives also an opportunity of
avoiding the errors that occasioned it. In this case,
care ought to be taken to cut the plants as close to the
ground as possible, as there the stems will be less nume¬
rous than at any greater height. And particular at¬
tention ought to be had to allow very few shoots to
arise from the stems that have been cut over, and to
guard carefully against shortening them.
“ But as the roots, in the case here supposed, will
3 U 2 be
AGRICULTURE.
Practice.
*45
Lord
Karnes’s
observa¬
tions.
646
Fence for
deer-park.
he very strong, the shoots that are allowed to spring
from the stems will be very vigorous, and there will be
some danger of their continuing to grow later in the
season than they ought in safety to do; in which case,
some part of the top of the shoot may perhaps be killed
the first winter, which ought if possible to be prevent¬
ed. This can only be effectually done by giving a
check to the vegetation in autumn, so as to allow the
young shoots to harden in the points before the winter
approaches. If any of the leaves or branches of a ti'ee
are cut away while it is in the state of vegetation, the
whole plant feels the loss, and it suffers a temporary
check in its growth in proportion to the loss that it
thus sustains. To check therefore the vigorous vege¬
tation at the end of autumn, it will be prudent to choose
the beginning of September for the time of lopping off
all the supernumerary branches from the young hedge,
and for clipping off' the side-branches that have sprung
out from it; which will, in general, be sufficient to
give it such a check in its growth at that season, as
will prevent any of the shoots from advancing after¬
wards. If the hedge is extremely vigorous, a few buds
may be allowed to grow upon the large stumps in the
spring, with a view to be cut off at this season, which
will tend to stop the vegetation of the hedge still more
effectually.
“ By this mode of management, the hedge may be
preserved entire through the first winter. And as the
shoots become less vigorous every successive season,
there will be less difficulty in preserving them at any
future period. It will always be proper, however, to
trim the sides of a very vigorous hedge for some years
while it is young, about the same season of the year,
which will tend powerfully to prevent this malady.
But when the hedge is advanced to any considerable
height, it will be equally proper to clip it during any
of the winter-months, befoi’e Candlemas.”
Lord Karnes, in his work entitled the Gentleman
Farmer, gives several directions for the raising and
mending of hedges considerably different from those
above related. For a deer-park he recommends a wall
a of stone coped with turf, having laburnums planted
close to it. The heads of the plants are to be lopped
off, in order to make the branches extend laterally, and
interweave in the form of a hedge. The wall will pre-
vent-the deer from breaking through ; and if the hedge
be trained eight feet high, they will not attempt to
leap over. He prefers the laburnum plant, because
no beast will feed upon it except a hare, and that only
when young and the bush tender. Therefore, no ex¬
traordinary care is necessary except to preserve them
from the hare for four or five years. A row of alders
may be planted in front of the laburnums, which no
hare nor any other beast will touch. The wall he re¬
commends to be built in the following manner, as be¬
ing both cheaper and more durable than one construct¬
ed entirely of stone. Raise it of stone to the height
of two feet and a half from the ground, after which it
is to be coped with sod as follows. First, lay on the
wall, with the grassy side under, sod cut with the spade
four or five inches deep, and of length equal to the
thickness of the wall. Next cover this sod with loose
earth rounded like a ridge. Third, prepare thin sod,
cast with the paring spade, so long as to extend, be¬
yond the thickness of the wall, two inches on each side.
647
With these cover the loose earth, keeping the grassy Fencei.
side above ; place them so much on the edge, that
each sod shall cover part of another, leaving only about
two inches without cover: when 20 or 30 yards are
thus finished, let the sod be beat with mallets by two
men, one on each side of the wall, striking both at the
same time. By this operation the sod becomes a com¬
pact body that keeps in the moisture, and encourages
the grass to grorv. Lastly, cut off the ragged ends of
the sod on each side of the wall, to make the covering
neat and regular. The month of October is the pro¬
per season for this operation, because the sun and
wind, during summer, dry the sod, and hinder the
grass from vegetating. Moist soil affords the best sod*
Wet soil is commonly too fat for binding; and, at
any rate, the watery plants it produces will not thrive
in a dry situation. Dry soil, on the other hand, be¬
ing commonly ill bound with roots, shakes to pieces in
handling. The ordinary way of coping with sod,
which is to lay them flat and single, looks as if intend¬
ed to dry the sod and kill the grass ; not to mention
that the soil is liable to be blown off the wall by every
high wind.
The advantages of a thorn hedge, according to our Advan-
author, are, that it is a very quick grower, whentagesof
planted in a proper soil; shooting up six or seven feet£ tjlom
in a season. Though tender, and apt to be hurt by 1 ‘
weeds when young, it turns strong, and may be cut
into any shape. Even when old, it is more disposed
than other trees to lateral shoots ; and lastly its prickles
make it the most proper of all for a fence. None of
these thorns ought to be planted in a hedge till five
years of age, and it is of the utmost importance that
they be properly trained in the nursery. The best
soil for a nursery, his lordship observes, is between
rich and poor. In the latter the plants are dwarfish :
in the former, being luxuriant and tender, they are
apt to be hurt during the severity of the weather; and
these imperfections are incapable of any remedy. An
essential requisite in a nursery is free ventilation. “ How Qf a pro_
common (says his lordship) is it to find nurseries in per nurses
hollow sheltered places, surrounded with walls and for
high plantations, more fit for pine-apples than barren ^ie P'anU'
trees! The plants thrust out long shoots, but feeble
and tender : when exposed in a cold situation they de¬
cay, and sometimes die. But there is a reason for every
thing : the nurseryman’s view is to make profit by sav¬
ing ground, and by imposing on the purchaser tall
plants, for which he pretends to demand double price.
It is so difficult to purchase wholesome and well nursed
plants, that every gentleman farmer ought to raise
plants for himself.
“ As thorns will grow pleasantly from roots, I of raising
have long practised a frugal and expeditious method of them from
raising them from the wounded roots that must be cut^e^oU
off when thorns are to be set in a hedge. These ro°ts> hedges,
cut into small parts, and put in a bed of fresh earth,
will produce plants the next spring no less vigorous
than what are produced from seed ; and thus a perpe¬
tual succession of plants may be obtained without any
more seed. It ought to be a rule, never to admit into
a hedge plants under five years old ; they deserve all
the additional sum that can be demanded for them.
Young and feeble plants in a hedge are of slow growth ;
and, besides the loss of time, the paling necessary to
secure
Jart III.
Fences, secure them from cattle must be renewed more than
y—'once before they become a fence. A thorn hedge may
be planted in every month of winter and spring, unless
it be frost. But I have always observed, that thorns
planted in October are more healthy, push more vigor¬
ously, and fewer decay, than at any other time. In
preparing the thorns for planting, the roots ought to be
left as entire as possible, and nothing cut away but the
650 ragged parts.
roper me- “ As a thorn hedge suffers greatly by weeds, the
iod of ground where they are planted ought to be made per-
anting. fect]y clean. The common method of planting, is to
leave eight or nine inches along a side of the intended
ditch, termed a scarsement; and behind the scarsement
to lay the surface soil of the intended ditch, cut into
square sods two or three inches deep, its grassy surface
under. Upon that sod, whether clean or dirty, the
thorns are laid, and the earth of the ditch above them.
The grass in the scarsement, with what weeds are in
the moved earth, soon grow up, and require double di-
✓ ligence to prevent the young thorns from being cho¬
ked. The following method deserves all the additional
trouble it requires. Leaving a scarsement as above
of 10 inches, and also a border for the thorns, broad
or narrow according to their size; lay behind the
border all the surface of the intended ditch, champed
small with the spade, and upon it lay the mouldery
earth that fell from the spade in cutting the said sur¬
face. Cover the scarsement and border with the under
earth, three inches thick at least; laying a little more
on the border to raise it higher than the scarsement, in
order to give room for weeding. After the thorns are
prepared by smoothing their ragged points with a
knife, and lopping off their heads to make them grow
bushy, they are laid fronting the ditch, with their roots
on the border, the head a little higher than the root.
Care must be taken to spread the roots among the sur¬
face-earth, taken out of the ditch, and to cover them
with the mouldery earth that lay immediately below.
This article is of importance, because the mouldery
earth is the finest of all. Cover the stems of the thorns
with the next stratum of the ditch, leaving always an
inch at the top free. Tt is no matter how poor this
stratum be, as the plants draw no nourishment from
it. Go on to finish the ditch, pressing down careful¬
ly every row of earth thrown up behind the hedge,
which makes a good solid mound impervious to rain.
It is a safeguard to the young hedge to raise this
mound as perpendicular as possible ; and for that rea¬
son, it may be proper, in loose soil, when the mound
is raised a foot or so, to bind it with a row of the
tough sod, which will support the earth above till it
become solid by lying. In poor soil more care is ne¬
cessary. Behind the line of the ditch the ground in¬
tended for the scarsement and border should be summer
fallowed, manured, and cleared of all grass roots ; and
this culture will make up for the inferiority of the soil.
In very poor soil, it is vain to think of planting a thorn
hedge. In such ground there is a necessity for a stone
fence.
“ The only reason that can be given for laying
thorns as above described, is to give the roots space to
push in all directions ; even upwards into the mound of
earth. There may be some advantages in this j but,
in my apprehension, the disadvantage is much greater
525
of heaping so much earth upon the roots as to exclude Fences.
not only the sun, but the rain which runs down the 1 v— 1
sloping bank, and has no access to the roots. Instead
of laying the thorns fronting the ditch, would it not
do better to lay them parallel to it; covering the roots
with three or four inches of the best earth, which
would make a hollow between the plants and the slop¬
ing bank ? This hollow would intercept every drop of
rain that falls on the bank, to sink gradually among
the roots. Why, at any rate, should a thorn be put in¬
to the ground sloping ? This is not the practice with
regard to any other tree j and I have heard of no ex¬
periment to persuade me that a thorn thrives better
sloping than erect. There occurs, indeed, one objec¬
tion against planting thorns erect, that the roots have
no room to extend themselves on that side where the
ditch is. But does it not hold, that when, in their
progress, roots meet with a ditch, they do not push on¬
wards j but, changing their direction, push downward
at the side of the ditch P If so, these downward roots
will support the ditch, and prevent it from being moul¬
dered down by frost. One thing is evident without ex^
periment, that thorns planted erect may sooner be made
a complete fence than when laid sloping as usual. la
the latter case, the operator is confined to thorns that
do not exceed a foot or 15 inches 5 but thorns five or
six feet high may be planted erect j and a hedge of
such thorns, well cultivated in the nursery, will in
three years arrive to greater perfection than a hedge
managed in the ordinary way will do in twice that
time.” 6-r
After the hedge is finished, it is absolutely necessa- Of securing
ry to secure it for some time from the depredations of a hedge
cattle ; and this is by no means an easy matter. “ The after ^ 1S
ordinary melhod of a paling (says his lordship) is no^ante^°
sufficient defence against cattle : the most gentle make
it a rubbing post, and the vicious wantonly break it
down with their horns. The only effectual remedy is
expensive ; viz. two ditches and two hedges, with a
mound of earth between them. If this remedy, how¬
ever, be not palatable, the paling ought at least to be
of the strongest kind. I recommend the following as
the best I am acquainted with : Drive into the ground
strong stakes three feet and a half long, with intervals
from eight to twelve inches, according to the size of
the cattle that are to be enclosed j and all precisely of
the same height. Prepare plates of wood sawed out
of logs, every plate three inches broad and half an
inch thick. Fix them on the heads of the stakes with
a nail driven down into each. The stakes will be
united so firmly, that one cannot be moved without
the whole •, and will be proof accordingly against the
rubbing of cattle. But, after all, it is no fence against
vicious cattle. The only proper place for it is the side
of a high road, or to fence a plantation of trees. It
will indeed be a sufficient fence against sheep, and en¬
dure till the hedge itself becomes a fence. A fence
thus completed, including thorns, ditching, wood,
nails, &c. will not much exceed two shillings every
six yards.” _ _ ^ g52
His lordship discommends the ordinary method of Of training,
training hedges, by cutting off the top and shortening up hedges,
the lateral branches, in. order to make it thick and
bushy. This, as well as the method of cutting off the
stems two or three inches above the ground, indeed,
produces.
AGRICULTURE,
526
AGRICULTURE.
Fences
653
Plashinc
produces a great number of shoots, and makes a very
thick fence, but which becomes so weak when bare of
leaves, that cattle break through it in every part. To
determine the best method of proceeding in this case,
his lordship made an experiment on three hedges,
which were twelve years old at the time he wrote.
The first was annually pruned at the top and sides; the
sides of the second were pruned, hut not the top} and
the third was allowed to grow without any pruning.
The first, at the time of writing, was about four feet
broad, and thick from top to bottom j but weak
the stems, and unable to resist any horned beast: the
second was strong in its stems, and close from top to
bottom : the third was also strong in its stems, but
bare of branches for two feet from the ground j the
lower ones having been deprived of air and rain by the
thick shade of those above them. Hence he directs
that hedges should be allowed to grow till the stems
be five or six inches in circumference, which will be
in ten or twelve years; at which time the hedge will
be fifteen feet or more in height. The lateral branches
next the ground must be pruned within two feet of the
stem ; those above must be made shorter and shorter in
proportion to their distance from the ground; and at
five feet high they must be cut close to the stem, leav¬
ing all above full freedom of growth. By this dres¬
sing the hedge takes on the appearance of a very steep
roof j and it ought to be kept in that form by pruning.
This form gives free access to rain, sun, and air: eve¬
ry twig has its share, and the whole is preserved in vi¬
gour. When the stems have arrived at their proper
bulk, cut them over at five feet from the ground, where
the lateral branches end. This answers two excellent
purposes: the first is to strengthen the hedge, the sap
that formerly ascended to the top being now distri¬
buted to the branches ; the next is, that a tall hedge
stagnates the air, and poisons both corn and grass near
it. A hedge trained in this manner is impenetrable
even by a bull.
of With regard to the practice of plashing an old hedge
in reason
hedges dis- recommended by Dr Anderson, his lordship observes
commend- tJiaj « it makes a good interim fence, but at the long
run is destructive to the plants: and accordingly there
is scarcely to be met with a complete good hedge
where plashing has been long practised. A thorn is a
tree of long life. If, instead of being massacred by
plashing, it were raised and dressed in the way here
described, it would continue a firm hedge perhaps 50O
6. years.
Hedges “ ^ hedge ought never to be planted on the top of
ought to be the mound of earth thrown up from the ditcl}. It has
planted on indeed the advantage of an awful situation j but being
the side of p]ante(j In bad soil, and destitute of moisture, it ean-
‘ind no"5’ no^ ^irive : ^ is at best dwarfish, and frequently de¬
trees allow-cay3 dies. To plant trees in the line of the hedge,
cd in them.or within a few feet of it, ought to be absolutely pro¬
hibited as a pernicious practice. It is amazing that
people should fall into this error, when they ought to
know that there never was a good thorn hedge with
trees in it. And how should it be otherwise? An oak,
a beech, an elm, grows faster than a thorn. When
suffered to grow in the midst of a thorn hedge, it
spreads its roots everywhere, and robs the thorns of
their nourishment. Nor is this all: the tree, oversha¬
dowing the thorns, keeps the sun and air from them.
Practice,
At the same time, no tree takes worse with being over- Fences,
shadowed than a thorn. —v--—'
“ It is scarcely necessary to mention gaps in a hedge, 6S5
because they will seldom happen where a hedge is train-
ed as above recommended. But in the ordinary me-
thod of training, gaps are frequent, partly by the fai¬
lure of plants, and partly by the trespassing of cattle.
The ordinary method of filling up gaps, is to plant sweet
briar where the gap is small, and a crab where it is
large. This method I cannot approve, for an obvious
a hedge ought never to be composed of plants
which grow unequally. Those that grow fast, overtop
and hurt the slow growers j and with respect, in parti¬
cular, to a crab and sweet briar, neither of them thrive
under the shade. It is a better method to remove all
the withered earth in the gap, and to substitute fresh
sappy mould mixed with some lime or dung. Plant
upon it a vigorous thorn of equal height with the hedge,
which in its growth will equal the thorns it is mixed
with. In that view there should be a nursery of thorns
of all sizes, even to five feet high, ready to fill up gaps.
The best season for this operation is the month of Oc¬
tober. A gap filled with sweet briar, or a crab lower
than the hedge, invites the cattle to break through and
trample the young plants underfoot j to prevent which,
a paling raised on both sides is not sufficient, unless it
be raised as high as the hedge.
“ Where a field is too poor to admit of a thorn In wjjat
hedge, if there be no quantity of stones easily procu-cases whia
rable, whins are the only resource. These are com-are neces-
monly placed on the top of a dry earth dyke, in which sar.v‘
situation they seldom thrive well. The following seems
preferable. Two parallel ditches three feet wide and
two deep, border a space of twelve feet. Within this
space raise a bank at the side of each ditch with the
earth that comes out of it, leaving an interval between
the two banks. Sow the banks with whin seed, and
plant a row of trees in the interval. When the whins
are pretty well grown, the hedge on one of the banks
may be cut down, then the other as soon as it becomes
a fence, and so on alternately. While the whins are
young, they will not be disturbed by cattle, if passages
be left to go out and in. These passages may be
closed up when the hedge is sufficiently strong to be a
fence. A whin hedge thus managed, will last many
years, even in strong frost, unless very severe. There
are many whin hedges in the shire of Kincardine not so
skilfully managed, and yet the possessors appear not to
be afraid of frost. Such fences ought to be extremely
welcome in the sandy grounds of the shire of Moray,
where there is scarcely a stone to be found. The few
earth fences that are there raised, composed mostly of
sand, very soon crumble down.”
In the fourth volume of Mr Young’s Northern Tour, ^nmi3 nj
the author recommends the transplanting of old hedges,
which his correspondent Mr Beverly says he has tried tore, vol.
with prodigious success. y1- P* 357‘
Mr Bakewell, we are told, is very curious in hislb‘
fences, and plants his quicks in a different manner from jyfr jMe*
what is common in various parts of the kingdom. He well's fen-
plants one row at a foot from set to set, and making hisceSi
ditch, lays the earth which comes out of it to form a
bank on the side opposite to the quick. In the com¬
mon method, the bank is made on the quick side above
it. Reasons are not wanting to induce a preference of
this
658
\ {hedges
stony
’art III. A C It I C U
Fences, this method. Hie plants grow only in the surface
earth uncovered from the atmosphere, which must ne¬
cessarily be a great advantage j whereas, in the usual
way of planting, that earth, which is always the best,
is loaded by a thick covering obliquely of the earth
out of the ditch. If the roots shoot in the best soil,
they will be out of the reach of the influences of the
air; the consequence of which is, that they cannot
have so large a space of that earth as if set on the flat.
I he way to have a tree or a quick thrive in the best
manner possible, is to set it on the surface without
any ditch or trench, that cuts off half its pasture. But
if a ditch is necessary, the next best way must of course
be still to keep it on the flat surface 5 and the worst
way to cover up that surface, by loading it with the
dead earth out of a trench, ffo say that there are good
hedges in the common method is not a conclusive argu¬
ment, unless both were tried on the same soil and expo¬
sure.
In the 7th volume of the same work, a correspon-
. dent, who signs himself IVT. M. observes, that notwith-
ad gravel-standing all the improvements that have been made
•ol in the construction of hedges and fences, there are
many soils in England, which, from their sandy and
gravelly natures, are little adapted to any of the plants
in common use, and are therefore subject to all the
inconveniences of dead hedges and gaps. Of this kind
are all the sandy and gravelly inclosures, which con¬
stitute so large a part of many districts in the island,
lor these our author recommends a triple row of furzej
though, notwithstanding its advantages, he says it is
liable to be destroyed by severe winters, contrary to
the assertion of Eord Kames above related. “ It is
liable (says he) to be so completely cut off by a severe
winter, that I have seen tracts of many hundred acres
laid open in the space of a few weeks, and reduced to
as defenceless a state as the surrounding wastes. On
such soils therefore he recommends the holly; the only
disadvantage of which, he says, is its slow growth. On
most of these soils also the black thorn will rise spon¬
taneously j and even the quick, though slowly, will ad¬
vance to a sufficient degree of perfection. The birch,
however, he particularly recommends, as growing
equally on the driest and on the wettest soils, propa¬
gating itself in such numbers, that, were they not de¬
stroyed, all the sandy wastes of this kingdom would
be quickly covei’ed with them. He recommends par-
659 ticularly the keeping ol a nursery for such plants as
aproper31’6 commonly used for hedges. “ I generally (says
lsttY» he) pick out a bit of barren land, and after plough¬
ing it three or four times to bury and destroy the
heath, I find it answer extremely well for a nursery.
Into this spot I transplant quick hollies, and every
tree which 1 use for fences or plantations. By esta¬
blishing such a nursery, a gentleman will always be
able to command a sufficiency of strong and hardy
plants which will not deceive his expectations. I look
upon thorns of five or six years old, which have been
twice transplanted from the seed-bed, to be the best
of all j but as it may be necessary to fill up casual gaps
in hedges that have been planted several years, a pro¬
vision should be made of plants of every age, to twelve
or fourteen years old. All plants which are intended
to be moved, should be transplanted every two, or at
most three years j without this attention, they attach
L T U R E.
themselves so firmly to the soil as renders a subsequent
operation dangerous. All who transplant quicks or
hollies ought to begin their labours as early as conve¬
nient in the autumn j for I have found, by repeated
experience, that neither of these plants succeed so well
in the spring.”
When the fences of a tract of ground are in a very 0f
ruinous condition, it is absolutely necessary to scour ing ruinous
the ditches, throw up the banks, and secure the whole hedges,
immediately by the firmest dead fences we can procure.
If there is a total want of living plants, the cultivator
can do nothing but plant new hedges ; but if, as is
generally the case, the banks are furnished with a mul¬
titude of old stems, though totally unconnected as a
fence, the time and labour requisite for the intended
improvement will be considerably abridged. All the
straggling branches which add no solidity to the fence
are to be cut off} after which the rest of the stems must
be shortened to the height of three or four feet. The
method of cutting down every thing to the ground,
which is now so general, our author highly condemns.
“ Such a fence (says he) has within it no principle of
strength and connection } it is equally exposed in every
part to depredations of cattle and sportsmen : and even
should it escape these, the first fall of snow will nearly
demolish it. On the contrary, wherever these vege¬
table palisades can be left, they are impenetrable either
for man or horse, and form so many points of union
which support the rest.”
Another method of strengthening defective fences is,
to bend down some of the lateral shoots in a horizon¬
tal direction, and to spread them along the line of the
fence, like espalier trees in a garden. A single stem,
when it rises perpendicularly, will not secure a space
of more than two or three feet, but when bent longi¬
tudinally, it will form a barrier at least sufficient to.
repel all cattle but hogs lor twelve or fourteen on one
side. By bending down, our author does not mean
the common plashing method, which is very injurious p]as^1*r
to the plants } but the spreading two or three of the ]ie(jges dis.
most convenient branches along the hedge, and fasten-commend¬
ing them down either by pegs or tying, without iu-e<**
jury to the stem, until they habitually take the pro¬
posed direction. Those who make the experiment for
the first time will be astonished how small a number
of plants may be made to fill a bank, with only trifling
intervals. The birch is particularly useful for this pur¬
pose } being of so flexible a nature, that shoots of ten
or twelve feet in length may be easily forced into a
horizontal direction ; and if the other shoots are pru¬
ned away, all the juices of the plant will be applied to
nourish the selected few : by which means they will
in a few years acquire all the advantages of posts and
rails, with this material difference, that instead of de¬
caying, they become annually better. It is besides
the property of all inclined branches to send up a mul¬
titude of perpendicular shoots } so that by this hori¬
zontal inclination, if judiciously made, you may ac¬
quire almost all the advantages of the thickest fence}
but when the stems are too old and brittle to bear this
operation, it will be adviseable to cut off all the useless
ones close to the ground, and next spring they will be t
succeeded by a number of young and vigorous ones. .
Select the best of these to be trained in the manner
already directed, and extirpate all the rest, to increase
their;
528
AGRICULTURE.
Practice,
Fences.
662
Of thicken¬
ing hedges
by laying
down the
young
shoots.
663
In what
ease the
cutting
down of
fiedges is
proper.
their vigour. The shoots of such old stems as have
been just now described, will attain a greater size in
three or four years than any young ones that can be
planted will do in twelve.
Another method which our author has practised
with the greatest success is the following. The ten¬
der shoots of most trees, if bended downwards and co¬
vered with earth, will put forth roots, and being divid¬
ed from the parent stem at a proper time, become
fresh plants 5 an operation well known to gardeners,
under the name of laying. This may be as advanta¬
geous to the farmer, if he will take the very moderate
trouble of laying down the young and flexible branches
in his fences. Most species of trees, probably all,
will be propagated by this method, but particularly
the withy j the birch, the holly, the white thorn, and
the crab, will also take root in this method, though
more slowly *, the latter being an excellent plant for
fences, and not at all nice in the soil on which it
grows. The advantage of laying down branches in
this manner over the planting of young ones is, that
when you endeavour to fill up a gap by the latter me¬
thod, they advance very slowly, and are in danger of
being stifled by the shade of the large trees j whereas,
if you fortify a gap by spreading the branches along it
in the manner just mentioned, and at the same time in¬
sert some of the most thriving shoots in the ground,
they will advance with all the vigour of the parent
plant, and you may allow them to grow until they
are so fully rooted as to be free from danger of suffoca¬
tion.
It frequently happens, that the fences of an estate
have been neglected for many years, and exhibit no¬
thing but ragged and deformed stems at great inter¬
vals. In this case it will be proper to cut them all off
level with the ground : the consequence of this is, that
next year they will put forth a great number of shoots,
which may be laid down in every direction, and train¬
ed for the improvement of the fence. When this ope¬
ration is performed, however, it ought always to be
done with an axe, and not with a saw j it being found
that the latter instrument generally prevents the vege¬
tation of the plant. All the shoots laid down in this
manner should be allowed to remain for several years,
that they may be firmly rooted. Thus they rvill make
prodigious advances; and it is to be observed, that the
more the parent plant is divested of all superfluous
branches, the greater will be the nourishment transmit¬
ted to the scions.
Our author, however, is inclined to suspect that
the most perfect form of a hedge, at least in all but
those composed of thorns and prickly plants, is to
train up as many stems as will nearly touch each other.
The force of every fence consists chiefly in the up¬
right stems: where these are sufficiently near and
strong, the hedge resists all opposition, and will equally
repel the violence of the bull, and the insidious at¬
tacks of the hogs. It is absolutely proper that all
hedges should be inspected once a-year; when not
only the ditch ought to be thrown out, and the bank
supported, but the straggling shoots of all the live
plants ought to be pruned. By these are meant all
such as project over the ditch beyond the line of the
hedge, and which add nothing to its strength, though
they deprive the useful stems of part of their nourish¬
ment. Where a hedge is composed of plants of in- Fences,
ferior value, it will be proper to train those in the
manner just now recommended, and to plant the bank
with quick or holly. When these last have attained
a sufficient size, the others may be extirpated j which
is best done by cutting down all the shoots repeated¬
ly in the summer, and leaving the roots to rot in the
hedge. . 664
In the 13th volume of the Annals, W. Erskine, Esq. Mr Er-
gives an account of a method of fencing Very much skiue’s me-
resembling that recommended by Lord Karnes, andtilotJ O.fco,i'
which has been already described. That gentleman is hedges/
of opinion, that in some cases dead stone walls, as they
are called, are more advantageous than hedges. “ That
hedges (says he) are more ornamental, cannot be de¬
nied j and they are generally allowed to afford more
shelter: but the length of time, the constant attention,
and continual expence of defending them until they bear
even the resemblance of a fence, induces many people, in
those places where the materials are easily procured, to
prefer the dry stone walls j for though the first cost is
considerable, yet as the farmer reaps the immediate be¬
nefit of the fence (which is undoubtedly the most secure
one), they are thought on the whole to be the least ex¬
pensive $ besides, the cattle in exposed situations, and
especially in these northern parts, are so impatient of
confinement at the commencement of the long, cold,
wet nights, that no hedges I have ever yet seen,
in any part of this island, are sufficient to keep them
From considerations of this kind, the late Sir George
Suttie of East Lothian was induced to think of a fence
which might join the strength of the wall to the or¬
nament of the hedge. His thorns were planted in the
usual manner on the side of the ditch : but instead of
putting behind them a post and rail or paling on the
top of the bank, be erected a Avail two feet and a
half high ; and being well situated for procuring lime,
he used it in the construction of these walls, which Mr
Erskine greatly recommends; “ as the satisfaction they
afford, by requiring no repairs, and the duration of
them, more than repay the expence : but Avhere the
price of lime is high they may be built Avithout any ce¬
ment, and ansAver the purpose very Avell if the work is
properly executed.”
In making a neAV fence of this kind, the surface of
the ground should be pared off the breadth of the
ditch, and likeAvise for Iavo feet more, in order to pre¬
vent as much as possible the thorns from being injured
by the groAvth of grass and Aveeds. The ditch should
be five feet broad, tAvo and a half in depth, and one
foot broad at the bottom. Leav^e one foot for an
edging or scarsement, then dig the earth one spit of
a spade for about one foot, and put about three inches
of good earth below the thorn, Avhich should be laid
nearly horizontal, but the point rather inclining up-
Avards, in order to let the rain drip to the roots ; then
add a foot of good earth above it: leave three or four
inches of a scarsement before another thorn is planted;
it must not be directly over the lorver one, but about
nine inches or a foot to one side of it; then throw a
foot of good earth on the thorn, and trample it well
doAvn, and level the top of the bank for about three
feet and a half for the base of the wall to rest on. This
base should be about nine or ten inches, but must not
exceed
Part III.
Fences, exceed one foot from the thorn. The wall ought to
 v  be about two feet thick at the bottom and one foot at
the top : the cope to be a single stone laid flat j then
covered with two sods of turf, the grass of the under¬
most to be next the wall, and the other sod must have
the grass side uppermost. Hie sods should be of some
thickness, in order to retain moisture ; so that they may
adhere together, and not be easily displaced by the
wind. The height of the wall to be two feet and a
half, exclusive of the sods ; which together should be
from four to six inches, by which means the wall would
be near to three feet altogether. The expence of the
fences cannot so easily be counted, on account of the
differences of the prices of labour in different parts. Mr
Erskine had them done with lime, every thing included,
from lojd. to 13d. per ell (which is equal to 37 inches
2 parts), according to the ease or difficulty of working
the quarry, and the distance of it from the place where
the fence is erected. The lime is about 6d. per boll
of about 4.0872667 bushels ; and from 15 to 16 bolls
of lime are used to the rood of 35 square ells Scots
measure; and there are upwards of 43 Scots ells, or
44 English yards. When the common round or flint
stones are made use of, as they require more lime, it is
necessary to use 30 or 35 bolls of lime to the rood.
The thorns are sold from five to ten shillings per thou¬
sand, according to their age, reckoning six score to the
hundred. Making the ditch, laying the thorns, and
preparing the top of the wall, generally cost from yd.
to 8d. every six ells. About 50 carts of stones, each
cart carrying from seven to nine cwt. will build a
rood $ the carriage at 2d. per cart for half a mile’s di¬
stance.
Warmth is undoubtedly extremely beneficial to
hedges ; and the walls give an effectual shelter, which
in exposed situations is absolutely necessary for rearing
young hedges ; and they likewise preserve a proper de¬
gree of moisture about the roots. If the hedges have
been planted for six or seven years before the wall is
built, cut them over to two or three inches above the
ground with a sharp tool, either in October or Novem¬
ber, or early in the spring} and erect the wall as
quickly in that season as possible (the spring in this
country can scarcely be said to begin till the end of
March). It is almost impossible to imagine the rapi¬
dity with which hedges grow in favourable situations.
Mr Erskine had one cut over in the spring, and by the
end of the year it was almost as high as the wall. In
three years he supposed, that not even the Highland
sheep, who easily overleap a wall of four feet and a
half in height, would have been able to break through
«S lt- . .
asons for Notwithstanding the reasons that have been given
nt‘ng already against the planting of timber trees in hedges,
we find the practice recommended by some authors as
one of the best situations for raising ship-timber. The
reasons are, that the roots have free range in the ad¬
joining inclosures, and the top is exposed to the ex¬
ercise of the winds ; by which means the trees are at
once enabled to throw out strong arms, and have a
large spreading head at the same time; so that we
thus at once obtain quickness of growth with strength
and crookedness of timber. Well trained timber trees
it is alleged are not prejudicial to hedges, though pol¬
lards and low spreading trees are destructive to the
Vol. I. Part II. f
AGRICULTURE.
trees
hedges.
hedge-wood which grows under them; neither are
high trees prejudicial to corn-fields like high hedges
and pollards, which prevent a proper circulation of
air 5 and in Norfolk, where the cultivation of grain
is carried on in great perfection, such lands are said to
be wood-bound. But when a hedge is trimmed down
to four or five feet high, with oaks interspersed, a cir¬
culation of air is rather promoted than retarded by it ;
and a trimmed hedge will thrive quite well under tall
stemmed trees, particularly oaks. For arable inclo¬
sures, therefore, hedges are recommended of four or
five feet high, with oak-timbers from 15 to 25 feet
stem. Higher hedges are more eligible for grass-lands :
the grasses affect warmth, by which their growth is
promoted, and consequently their quantity is increased,
though perhaps the quality may suffer some injury.
A tall fence likewise affords shelter to cattle, provided
it be thick and close at the bottom} but otherwise, by
admitting the air in currents, it does rather harm than
good. The shade of trees is equally friendly to cattle
in summer : for which reason it is recommended in
grass inclosures to allow the hedge to make its natural
shoots, and at the same time to have oak trees planted
in it at proper intervals. Upon bleak hills, and in ex¬
posed situations, it will be proper to have two or even
three rows of hedge-wood, about four feet distant from
each other} the middle row being permitted to reach,
and always to remain at, its natural height: whilst the
side rows are cut down alternately to give perpetual
security to the bottom, and afford a constant supply of
materials for dead hedges and other purposes of under¬
wood.
Much has been said of the excellency of the holly Best me
material for hedges } and indeed the beauty oftIlwl .Gf
666
as a
a, jui ucuges , auu iiiuceu me oeauty 01 y1
the plant, with its extreme closeness, and continuing pla.,ntin.g.
 xi. and raisnij
green throughout the winter, evidently give it the pre- holl/for
ference to all others} and could it be raised with equal hedges,
ease, there is no doubt that it would come into uni¬
versal practice. Besides the above properties, the
holly will thrive almost upon any soil} but thin-soiled
stony heights seem to be its natural situation } and it
may properly enough be said, that holly will grow
wherever corn will. Its longevity is likewise exces¬
sive } and being of slow growth, it does not suck the
land, as the farmers express it, or deprive the crop of
its nourishment, as other hedges do. The difficulty
of raising holly may be obviated by planting it under
crabs, which have a tendency to grow more upright
than hawthorns, and consequently affording more air,
will not impede its progress though they afford shel¬
ter. It may even be raised alone without any great
difficulty } only in this case the dead fence, to secure it,
must be kept up at least ten or twelve years, instead
of six or seven, as in the other case } and indeed, con¬
sidering the advantages to be derived from fences of
this kind, they seem to merit all the additional trouble
requisite.
The holly may be raised .either under the crab or
hawthorn in two ways, viz. by sowing the berries
when the quick is planted, or by inserting the plants
themselves the ensuing midsummer. The former is by
much the more simple, and perhaps upon the whole
the better method. The seeds may either be scat¬
tered among the roots of the deciduous plants, or
be sown in a drill in front: and if plants of holly
3 X be
DJ
O
Fences.
66'j
Hedges of
vhins or
furze.
AGRICULTURE.
Practice
be put in, they may either be planted between those
of the crab, or otherwise in front in the quincunx man¬
ner.
“ Whins (furze) have been often employed, says Dr
Anderson, as a fence, when sown upon the top of a
bank. They are attended with the convenience of
coming very quickly to their perfection, and of grow¬
ing upon a soil on which few other plants could be
made to thrive $ but in the way that they are common¬
ly employed, they are neither a strong nor a lasting
fence. The first of these defects may, in some mea¬
sure, be removed, by making the bank upon which
they are sowed (for they never should be trans¬
planted) of a considerable breadth ; in order that the
largeness of the aggregate body, considered as one
mass, may, in some measure, make up for the want of
strength in each individual plant. With this view, a
bank may be raised of five or six feet in breadth at
the top, with a large ditch on each side of it ; raising
the bank as high as the earth taken from the ditches
will permit j the surface of which should be sowed
pretty thick with whin seeds. These will come up
very quickly: and in two or three years will form a
barrier that few animals will attempt to break through,
and will continue in that state of perfection for some
years. But the greatest objection to this plant as a
fence is, that, as it advances in size, the old prickles
always die away j there being never more of these alive
at any time upon the plant, than those that have been
the produce of the year immediately preceding •, and
these thus gradually falling away, leave the stems na¬
ked below as they advance in height 5 so that it very
soon becomes an exceeding poor and unsightly fence j
the stems being entirely bare, and so slender withal as
not to be able to make a sufficient resistance to almost
any animal whatever. To remedy this great defect,
either of the two following methods may be adopted.
The first is to take care to keep the bank always stor¬
ed with young plants ; never allowing them to grow
to such a height as to become bare below; and it was
principally to admit of this, without losing at any
time the use of the fence, that I have advised the bank
to be made of such an unusual breadth. For if one
side of the hedge be cut quite close to the bank, when
it is only two or three years old, the other half will
remain as a fence till that side become strong again j
and then the opposite side may be cut down in its turn j
and so on alternately as long as you may incline: by
which means the bank will always have a strong hedge
upon it without ever becoming naked at the root. And
as this plant, when bruised, is one of the most valuable
kinds of winter food yet known for all kinds of domes¬
tic animals, the young tops may be carried home and
employed for that purpose by the farmer $ which will
abundantly compensate for the trouble of cutting, and
the waste of ground that is occasioned by the breadth
of the bank.
“ The other method of preserving a hedge of whins
from turning open below', can only he practised where
sheep are kept 5 hut may be there employed with great
propriety. In this case will be proper to sow the
seeds upon a conical bank of earth, shoved up from the
surface of the ground on each side without any ditches.
If this is preserved from the sheep for two or three
years at first, they may then be allowed free access to
3
it} and, as they can get up close to the foot of the Feneei.
bank upon each side, if they have been accustomed to ' \r—-
this kind of food, they will eat up all the young shoots
that are within their reach, which wrill occasion them
to send out a great many lateral shoots : and these be¬
ing continually browsed upon, soon become as close as
could be desired, and are then in no sort of danger of
becoming naked at the root, although the middle part
should advance to a considerable height.
Where furze or w hins are to be used either as a fence
by themselves, or in assistance to another, it is perhaps
more proper to use the French seed than that produced
in Great Britain, as the former seldom ripens in this
country, and consequently cannot like the latter over¬
run the adjacent inclosure. It may be had at the seed-
shops in London for about I5d. per pound, and one
pound will sow 40 statute roods. When used as an
assistant to a hedge, it is more proper to sow it on the
back of the bank than on the top of it ’, as in this case
it is more apt to overhang the young plants in the face
of the bank 5 whilst in the other it is better situated
for guarding the bank, and preventing it from being
torn down by cattle. The method of sowing is as
follows : Chop a drill with a sharp spade about two-
thirds of the way up the back of the bank, making the
cleft gape as wide as may be without breaking off the
lip j and having the seed in a quart bottle, stopped with
a cork and goose quill, or with a perforated wooden stop¬
per, trickle it along the drill, covering it by means of
a broom drawn gently above and over the mouth of the
drill. Closing the drill with the back of the spade,
shuts up the seeds too much from the air, and thus
keeps them too long from rising. ^
We do not know that any person has yet attempted Gooseberr
to make use of the gooseberry for the purpose of ma-hedge,
king hedges, though few plants seem better adapted
for that purpose. It grows readily. Some varieties
of it rise to a considerable height, and by the strength
and number of its prickles, it would effectually prevent
any animal from breaking through.—It is said that
some species of the mulberry not only grow and thrive
in England, but are capable of being reared to per¬
fection in Scotland, as has been experienced at Dal¬
keith. As the leaves of this plant are the food of the
silk-worm, which produces the most beautiful and va¬
luable of all the materials that can occupy the loom, it
is perhaps worthy of attention how far it might be
worth while to rear it as a fence in hedge-rows, with a
view to its becoming the basis of a valuable manu¬
facture. 66
Dry stone walls are sometimes erected of those round Fences of
and apparently water-worn stones which the plough stone wall
throws out, and which may be gathered in every
field. They are usually coped with sod. This, how¬
ever, is a very indifferent fence. In most instances it
is erected by common labourers, and is therefore ill
constructed, so as not even to be of an uniform thick¬
ness from top to bottom. The round figure of the
stones also prevents the building from being well
bound together. Even the cattle rubbing themselves
against it are apt to make considerable gaps, which
render constant attention necessary to keep it in re¬
pair. It is cheaply executed, however, and affords the
means of at once fencing the land and clearing it
of stones. When dry stone walls are skillfully huilt
b7
Fences.
’art III. A G R I C
by masons, and made with quarried stones finished with
a good coping, they look well and last for many
years j but the coping ought to be of stone and not of
turf or mud.
To render stone and lime walls valuable as fences,
they should have a broad base, and have a foundation
sufficiently deep to prevent their being injured by the
loosening of the soil which is produced by frost. This
fence is very durable, but it is also very expensive. To
be in perfection, it ought to be executed not with com¬
mon stones gathered from the fields, but with stones
from the quarry : It ought to be secured at the top
with a coping of stone of the flag kind, laid together in
such a way as to render the wall narrow at top like
the roof of a house. If the coping is neglected, the
moisture soon finds its way into the heart of the wall,
and it is also liable to various accidents from idle per-
sons climbing over it.
ie Gallo- The Galloway dike owes its name to the county in
lydike. which it was first used. It consists of a broad building
of dry stones tapering upwards. Large flat stones are
then laid on like a coping, and project over the wall
on each side. Above these stones large rugged round
stones are laid, and smaller stones above these, so as to
admit a free passage to the winds which whistle through
them. The Galloway dike is never raised very high,
but its tottering appearance so terrifies the cattle and
sheep, that they dare not touch it j so that it is a very
effectual fence, though it neither affords shelter nor
ornament to the country. It has the advantage, how¬
ever, of being erected at a very trifling expence ; it
is not unsuitable to those lower parts of the country in
which the shelter of high trees and hedges would prove
pernicious to the corn crop, and where the confinement
of the stock is all that is required.
Clay is sometimes used instead of lime for binding
stone walls ; but it is a very defective cement: for if
frost suddenly succeed to wet weather, it is apt to swell
and to tumble down at the next thaw. To guard
against the effects of moisture, these stone and clay
walls are sometimes rough-cast or coated over with
lime. If the coating is very thick and the wall pro¬
perly coped, it may last in this way as long as a wall
of stone and lime.
For the sake of the appearance, dry-stone walls have
sometimes two or three inches at the top of them on
each side lipped or washed with lime, which adds no¬
thing to their strength, but gives them the appearance
of being built entirely with stone and lime. With
the same view, and with the same effect, they are some¬
times also broad-cast or coated with lime over their
whole surface. Dry-stone walls after they are finished
are sometimes pinned and harled, or rough-cast, that is,
the mason fills up all the interstices of the building
with small stones, and afterwards coats it over with
lime, which adds considerably to its durability.
Low dry-stone walls have sometimes a light paling
at the top, which gives them a handsome appearance.
Brick walls are sometimes used where stones are
extremely scarce, but they are chiefly employed for
facing garden walls.
Frame walls are constructed in the following man¬
ner. A frame of boards of the width and height in¬
tended for the future wall is placed upon the line that
has been dug for a foundation. The frame is filled to
671
me
U L T U R E.
the top with stones gathered from the adjoining fields,
and a quantity of liquid mortar is poured in amongst
them sufficient to fill up every interstice. The whole
is allowed to remain for a day or two, or longer-, till
the building is dried so far as to have acquired some
stability. The frame is then removed, and placed a
little farther on in the same line, but in contact with
the last-made piece of wall, and the operation is re¬
newed. Ihis is supposed to have been a very ancient
mode of building.
Turf walls are found very useful in upland districts
for temporary purposes, such as for folds, or for pro¬
tecting young plantations or young hedges. Their
strength is sometimes increased, without augmenting
the expence of the construction, by intermingling them
with stones, that is, by forming the wall of alternate
layers of turf and stone. 6_2
Mud walls, with a mixture of straw, are very frequent Mud walls;
in many places both of England and Scotland, and
they are used not only for fences, but also for con¬
structing the walls of farm houses and offices, in the
poorer parts of the country. They are formed in
the following manner. Straw and clay are incor¬
porated with each other, like hair with plaister lime,
and formed into large pieces. A stratum of these is
laid at the bottom of the intended wall. The different
pieces are then firmly kneaded with the hand, and
pressed at each side with a flat board, which not only
consolidates, but gives smoothness and uniformity to
the work. Successive strata are added till the wall is
reared to its intended height. If walls thus constructed
are properly coated with lime, to protect them against
moisture, they become very durable j and their appear¬
ance is not inferior to that of a stone and lime building. 6
Of compound fences, the most ordinary is the single Compound
hedge and ditch, with or without paling. The modefcncey.
of planting these hedges has been already stated on the
authority of Lord Kames and others j and we shall only
add, that if a hedge is wished to rise with rapidity, the
spot in which it is planted ought to be enriched with
lime, compost, or other manures, as hedge plants cannot,
any more than other plants, spring rapidly without culti¬
vation. When a hedge is planted at the top of a ditch,
it may also be remarked, that it is doubly necessary to
give the ditch a proper degree of slope, that it may
not be undermined by any accident, which would have
the effect to lay bare the roots of the hedge, or entire¬
ly to bring it down. Where it is wished to renderlands
inclosed with hedge and ditch fencible at once, a kind
of Galloway dike, consisting of some rows of large
coarse loose stones, may be placed upon the top of the
bank, which will have the effect of protecting the hedge
against cattle.
The double ditch, with a hedge in the front of each,
is now practised, particularly on cold lands, in many
parts of Great Britain. It may be remarked, that
where these double ditches are wanted for drains, it is
undoubtedly a proper practice j but in other situations it
is exceptionable, as laying out unprofitably a large por¬
tion of the soil.
When a hedge and ditch is used, whether single or
double, the hedge is sometimes placed not at the bot¬
tom of the bank, which is the usual way, but in the
middle of it, at some height above the ordinary surface
of the field. In such a mode of planting, the hedge is
3X2 exposed
674
Hedge and
A G R I C U
exposed to great injury from the bank mouldering down,
and from want of proper nourishment j but the practice
is sometimes necessary upon wet lands, where hedges
would not thrive, if placed upon the common surface.
Sometimes the face of a natural declivity is cut down,
in a sloping direction, to within 18 or 20 inches of the
bottom. Here a bed is made and covered with good
earth, in which the plants are inserted. A hedge plant¬
ed in this way looks formidable from the side facing
the bank; but it is exposed to more accidents, from a
failure of its soil in consequence of frosts, than if plant¬
ed at the bottom of the banks.
Sometimes what is called a hedge and bank, or hedge
bank fences on the top of a bank, is made use of. It consists of a
bank of earth taken from the adjoining grounds, broad
at bottom and tapering towards the top, along the sum¬
mit of which the hedge is planted. Such hedges are
extremely liable to decay, in consequence of the artifi¬
cial mound, on which they stand, being unable to re¬
tain sufficient moisture for their support, or being wash-
^ , ed away from about their roots.
Devonshire The Devonshire fence resembles the one now describ-
feaces. ed. It consists of an earthen mound seven feet wide at
bottom, and four at the top, and five feet in height. In
the middle of the top of it a row of quicks is planted,
and on each side at two feet distance a row of willow
stakes, of about an inch in diameter each, and from 18
inches to two feet in length, is stuck in, sloping a little
outwards. These stakes take root, and form a kind
of live fence for the preservation of the quicks in the
middle.
Palings are frequently employed for the protection
of young hedges, whether planted on the plain soil or
on the top of a ditch : dead hedges, of the kinds for¬
merly mentioned, are also employed for the same pur¬
pose. The dead hedge is preferable to the paling, as
it shelters the young plants from the inclemency of
the weather. The dead hedge, however, ought al¬
ways to be at some distance from the living one, to al¬
low the latter freely to put forth its branches. As al¬
ready noticed, walls of different kinds are sometimes
erected, whether Galloway dikes or of stone and lime,
676 for the protection of young hedges 5 but there is a
Hedges in mode of making a hedge in the middle or in the face
tlie face of a wa]j deserves attention. It is executed in
the following manner: The face of the bank is first
cut down not quite perpendicular, but nearly so.
A facing of stone is then begun at the bottom,
and carried up regularly in the manner that stone
walls are generally built. When it is raised about 18
inches or two feet high, according to circumstances, the
space between the wall and the bank is filled up with
good earth, well broke and mixed with lime or com¬
post. The thorns are laid upon the earth in such a
manner, as that at least four inches of the root and stem
shall rest upon the earth, and the extremity of the top
shall project beyond the wall. When the plants are thus
regularly laid, the roots are covered with earth, and
the wall continued upwards, a hole having been left
which each plant peeps through. As the wall ad¬
vances upwards, the space between it and the bank is
gradually filled up : when completed, the wall is finished
with a cope of sod or of stone and lime. When the
plants begin to vegetate, the young shoots appear in
the face of the wall, rising in a perpendicular direction. ,
2
a wall.
L T U R E. Practice.
It is said, that Sir James Hall of Dunglass has adopted Fences,
this mode of inclosing to a considerable extent in East '-—-y-—'
Lothian ; that the hedges have made gi’eat progress ;
and that they exhibit, upon the whole, an extremely
handsome appearance.
Whatever may be thought of the propriety of plant- peifs7of
ing trees in hedge-rows, there can be no doubt, that in planting,
certain situations the addition to a hedge or hedge and
ditch of a belt of planting is a valuable acquisition to
its owner and to the country. It is certain, however,
as formerly stated, that in low rich soils where corn is
chiefly cultivated, particularly when surrounded by
hills, belts of planting are not only unnecessary, but
even hurtful to the crop. But there are other situa¬
tions in which they are of the highest value.. The
peninsula, which forms the county of Caithness, is said
to be a proof of this. Its soil is of a good quality, but
its value is greatly impaired by its being exposed to
sea winds, whose severity checks all vegetation. Many
tracts throughout the island are nearly in the same si¬
tuation ; and in all of them nothing more is wanted to
improve the country than to intersect it in a judicious
manner with hedges and belts of planting. Where
belts of planting are meant to remain as an efficient
fence, they ought to be of considerable breadth. In
poor and cold situations the breadth ought to be such
as to allow space for planting a great number of trees,
which, from the shelter they mutually afford, may pro¬
tect each other’s growth against the severity of the cli¬
mate. With the same view, in cold and exposed situa¬
tions the young trees should be planted very thick $
perhaps four or five times the number that can grow
to a full size should be planted. This practice affords
a choice of the most healthy plants to be left when the
plantation is thinned. In belts of planting an error is
sometimes committed of mingling firs, larches, and pines,
with oaks, ashes, &c. with the intention that the ever¬
greens should protect for a certain time the other trees,
and thereafter be removed. The effect of which too
frequently is, that when the evergreens are taken awayT,
their growth is not only checked for several years j
but being unable, after experiencing so much shelter,
to resist the severity of the climate, they die altoge¬
ther. This is the more likely to happen in conse¬
quence of the rapidity with which the firs and larches
grow} for the oaks and other trees are drawn up along
with them, and acquire, in some measure, the nature of
hot-house plants, unfit to encounter the blasts of a
northern climate : hence belts of planting should either
be made altogether of evergreens or altogether of de¬
ciduous plants, such as oak, ash, &c. , If the ever¬
greens are at all introduced among these last, it
ought to be sparingly, and at the outside of the belt,
with the view to afford only a moderate degree of
shelter.
Where fields are meant to remain constantly in pa¬
sturage, the belts may be made in a serpentine, and
sometimes in a circular form, both for the sake of or-,
nament, and to afford more complete shelter j but this
cannot be done where the plough is meant to be in¬
troduced. Upon a north exposure, the belts should
ci'oss each other, at proper distances, to afford more
complete shelter. Upon a south exposure, they ought
to run from south to north, to afford a defence against
the east and west winds, which are the strongest in this
country.
lie reed
ace.
A G R I C U
country. Belts of planting require themselves to be
fenced. A fence, which is merely intended to protect
their growth, may consist of a mud wall ; but if a per¬
manent security is wanted, a hedge and ditch will be
necessary.
In some situations, instead of the belt of planting, it
is customary to plant only the corners of the fields 5
and this plan is advisable where the country requires
but a moderate degree of shelter, added to that which
it may derive from thriving hedges.
It has been proposed, that on all sheep farms of any
extent, there ought to be one or more circular belts of
planting, inclosing a space of about an acre or an acre
and a half in the centre, with a serpentine road leading
through the belt into this inclosure, the use of which is
evident. In heavy falls of snow numerous flocks are
sometimes buried, and the lives of the shepherds are not
unfrequently lost in attempting to drive them to a place
of safety. On such occasions, the inclosures we have
now mentioned, would be of the utmost value. When
a storm threatened, the sheep might be driven to these
inclosures, where the snow could never be piled up by
driving vyinds ; and they might there be fed and remain
with entire safety. If due care were taken to litter the
place, a quantity of valuable dung might be collected,
if the storm should remain for any length of time.
The reed fence has hitherto been only used in gar¬
dens. It consists of a kind of wall, formed by sewing
with wrought yarn bundles of reeds, applied perpendi¬
cularly to a railing. This fence seems well adapted for
giving temporary shelter to cattle ; but as the materials
of it cannot be everywhere found, its use must be very
limited.
The entry to every inclosure ought to be secured by
gate-posts j which, if circumstances will permit, ought
T U R E. 533
always to be of stone, and if possible, of hewn stone, as ;penccs
these, when properly constructed, will never fail. Trees ' y- ‘ •
are sometimes planted for this purpose, and when they 67p
have acquired a certain size, they are cut over about ten Gate-posts^
feet above the surface of the ground. These form the
most durable of all gate-posts. They sometimes, how¬
ever, misgive ; in which case it is difficult to repair the
defect. When gate-posts are made of dead timber they
should be sti’ong, and the wood well prepared by a coat
of oil paint, as already mentioned.
gates for inclosures there are different kinds. r
What is called the swing-gate, that crosses the wholeGrates*
breadth ol a carriage road, and is of one piece, is by no
means an advisable form. The length of its bars ren¬
ders it expensive, and its great weight, with which it
pulls against the gate-post, overstrains its own hinges,
and is apt to bring down the side of the gate, unless it
is erected in a very costly and solid manner. For this
reason, a gate with two folding doors is preferable : it
hangs upon the gate-post only with half its weight, in
consequence of its being divided into two parts. Its
hinges are not so liable to be hurt by straining, nor are
its joints so liable to be broke. What is called the slip,
bar-gate, consisting of three separate bars, which are
taken out and put into the gate-posts every time the en¬
try to the fields is opened and shut, is the best kind of
gate, so far as cheapness and durability are concerned ;
but it does not admit of being locked, which renders it*
unfit for use near a public road, and the opening and
shutting of it are also attended with a considerable de¬
gree of trouble.
For an account of the latest improvements in agri¬
culture, see the article Agriculture, in the Supple¬
ment.
CHILLEA millefolium, N° 62
'^riculture defined, 1
wherein it differs from gar¬
dening, 2
is a separate art or employ¬
ment, ^
includes the rearing of cat¬
tle, 4
general importance of, 5
advantage of, to the farmer, 6
history of, 7
board of, 8
theory defective, II
practice of, division of the
subject, HO
gm;M/iMri3/improvement,obstaclesto, 109
grostis cornucopiee, 370
capillaris, 364
wa flexuosa, 365
caryophillea, 366
lopecurus bulbosus, 338
nderson's. Dr, opinion of the nature
°f moss, 184
INDEX.
Angora breed of rabbits, N° 556
Anthoxanthum odoratum, 361
Arsenic used to prevent the mildew, 97
B
Bank of earth fence, 623
Barley, culture of, 236
ribbing, 237
better mode of, 238
advantages of, 239
seed, how managed in a dry
season, 240
experiments on, 241
time of sowing, 242
general remarks on the culture
of, _ 243
culture in Norfolk, 244
vale of Gloucester, 245
Cotswold, 246
midland district, 247
culture difficult, 248
in Yorkshire, 249
importance of, to the reve-
nue, 250
Barley, its chief value, from being ea¬
sily converted into a saccha¬
rine substance, N° 20
Beans, culture of, by broadcast, 257
in drills, 258
Beet, white, recommended, 46
Black cattle, a good breed desirable,. 546
properties requisite of,, 547
Blight, a disease of wheat, „ 91
Board of Agriculture, 8
commences its sittings, 9
Brake,
its uses,
Broom, how destroyed,
Bulbous foxtail-grass,
Burnet,
recommended,
disapproved of,
culture of,
Butter, history of,
qualities of,
rules for making,
cream for making, not to iae
new.
149
3 5CT
88
3J8
43
44
45
357
575
576
577
578
Butter
534
Butter churn, 579
not to be put into water, 580
compositions for preserving, 581
how prepared for warm cli¬
mates, 5 ^ 2
preserved by honey, 583
Essex or Epping, 584
West of England, 585
Cambridgeshire, 5^6
Yorkshire and Suffolk, 587
frauds in the sale of, 588
how kept untainted by cabba¬
ges, _ 589
trade in, extensive, ib.
Butterfly, corn, 106
Buck-wheat, 41
culture of 251
advantages of cropping, 252
Cabbages, their properties, 35
render air noxious, 36
turnip-rooted, 37
culture of, 335
quantity produced on an
acre, 336
of watering them, 337
cultivated in the midland
district, 338
distance at which they ought
to be planted, 339
how transplanted or earth¬
ed, 340
how protected from cater¬
pillars, 341
Canary-seed, 482
Calves reared without milk, 548
by Mr Young, 549
mode of rearing in Cornwall, 550
by Mr Crook, 551
in Norfolk, 552
by Mr Bradfute, 553
Cattle, see Black Cattle, 548
rearing of, included under agri¬
culture, 4
qualities, requisite, of their food, 34
are pastured, 554
or stall-fed, 555
stall-feeding in Germany, 556
♦tall-fed in two ways, 557
should receive all roots in a
boiled state, 558
rules for fattening, 560
Carrots, 39
culture of, 307
cultivated in Suffolk and Nor¬
folk, 308
culture of, why not extended, 309
superiority of, to turnips, 310
difficulty of ascertaining the
value of, 311
experiments with, recommend-
ed, $12
feeding lambs with, 313
AGRICULTURE.
Carrots, compared with cabbages, N° 314
preferred to potatoes, 315
superior to turnips and oats, 316
how used to give colour to but¬
ter, 31?
sown in young plantations, 318
Carse of Cowrie, mode of draining in, 165
Cheese described, 591
making, 5 9 2
defects of, 593
runnet for, how prepared, 594
Mr Hazard’s receipt for run-
net, 595
particulars to be observed in
making, 59^
different kinds of, 597
double Gloucester, 598
Chedder, 599
Cheshire, 600
Stilton, 601
Parmesan, 602
Chicory, 371
Clover, red, 351
sowing of, with grain, 352
white and yellow, 353
Cynosurus cristatus, 362
Cole-seed, see Rape-seed.
Coriander-seed, experiments on, 481
Corn butterfly, ic6
Coulter of the plough, 124
Cultivator described, 148
Curl in potatoes, 107
modes of prevention, 108
Cyder, excellence of 604
different kinds of, ib.
art of making, imperfect, 605
errors in making, 606
means of improving, 607
mill and house described, 608
Cyderkin, 608
Cyder-wine, Dr Rush’s receipt for, 609
D
Daily, importance of, 571
principles on which it ought to
be managed, 572
described, 573
wooden vessels to be used in
the, # 574
Diseases of vegetables ill understood, 90
of wheat, 91
Ditches, 611
Drainage of quarries and mines, 183
Draining, importance of, 160
principles of, as to springs, 173
discoverer of the new mode, 174
practical rules in the case
of springs, 175
the side of a hill, 176
a bog, by letting the water
ascend freely, 177
Dr Anderson’s rules, • 178
Mr Wedge’s mode, 179
of landlocked bogs, 180
Index,
Drawing, landlocked bogs in Germa¬
ny, N° 181
in Roxburghshire, 182
Drains are open or hollow, 162
hollow, when inapplicable, 163
fit for clay soils, 164
in the Carse of Gowrie, 16;
open, rales for making, 166
hollow, nature and history of, 167
rules for making, 168
materials for filling, 169
pipe or sod, 170
hollow, duration of, 171
when the wetness is caused by
springs, 172
Drill-husbandry, advantages of, 453
mode of sowing in, 454
different hoeings in, 455
instruments of the, 456
of the profits of, 458
arguments for the, 459
objections to, and
answers, 460
where improper, 461
Sir J. Anstruther on, 462
compared with broad¬
cast, 463
is not a modern in¬
vention, 464
Durno, Mr, his report on flax and
hemp, 509
E
Erskine of Marr’s mode of preventing
smut in wheat, 99
Fallow-cleansing machine, 156
Farmers ignorance formerly, 142
Fences, kinds of, enumerated, 621
in grassy places, 639
for deer-parks, 646
of stone walls, 669
Galloway dikes, 670
of frame walls, 671
of mud walls, 672
compound, 673
of a hedge and bank, 674
Devonshire, 675
of a hedge in the face of a wall, 676
belt of planting, 677
Fertility of certain soils, 79
of the earth limited, 83
Fur%e, how destroyed, 88
Fescue, sheep’s, 4^
described, 51
purple, 49
its appearance cultivated, 50
sheep’s, appearance cultivated, 52
soil proper for, 53
Festuca fluitans,
Flax, 464
seed-cake, and oil for fattening
cattle, 465
Flax,
Index.
Flax, culture of, in Yorkshire, N° 466
Mr Marshall on, 467
Mr Bartley’s experiments on, 468
a Dorsetshire gentleman on, 469
may be cultivated by the poor, 470
vast quantities imported, 471
culture of, in Prussia, &c. 472
culture of, in Ireland, 473
weeded by sheep, 474
Flooding land, see Watering.
Fly, turnip, 104
how prevented, 105
Fontana's opinion about the cause of
mildew, 95
Forsyth, Mr, his process for convert¬
ing roots into flour, 32
his steam apparatus, 33
Four-coultered plough, 146
Frost, effect of, on ploughed land, 226
^oxtail-grass, bulbous, 338
Fruits not trusted to as human food, 16
ripen slowly, and are liable to
be destroyed in rvars, 17
xuit-trees, how recovered, 497
culture of, 498
in Herefordshire, 8cc. 499
indolence of cultivators of, 500
excess of wood on, 501
misletoe on, how destroy¬
ed, 502
moss on, 303
spring-frosts hurtful to, 304
blights on, 303
to destroy w'asps on, 306
excess of fruit on, 307
duration of, how lengthen¬
ed, 308
Marshall on the culture of, 309
xuit-liquors, 303
management of fruit for, 509
3° 2
5°5
306
5°7
5l°
511
512
513
489
490
491
492
493
494
fermentation of,
correcting of,
cashing,
bottling,
ruit, mode of gathering,
maturing,
grinding,
pressing,
ruits, where cultivated chiefly,
varieties of, artificial,
not permanent,
how procured,
nursery-ground for,
how to choose plants for,
AGRICULTUR
Grain, commonly used as human food,
£.
degeneracy of,
G
495> 496
alloway dikes, 670
arden mould, the nature of, 70
ardening, wherein different from a-
griculture, 2
ates, 680
ate-posts, 679
eese, management of, in Lincolnshire, 370
owrie, Carse of, drains, 165
N° 18
different kinds not essentially
different, 21
why in certain cases postponed
to rearing of cattle, 67
carrying from the field, 427
Grass, laying down fields in, 343
different kinds of, 344
to improve upland pasture, 343
how to sow upland pastures
with, 346
advantage of rolling, 347
culmiferous, 348
624
43°
431
different mode, 432
its advantages, 433
cautions requi¬
site in, 434
Hay stacks, 433
Headrick, Mr, his opinion of the na¬
ture of moss, 184
Hedges, directions for planting, 626
of hawthorn, 627
black thorn, 629
holly, 630
garden, 631
flowering shrubs for, 632
Dr Anderson’s directions for
raising,
willow,
how planted in exposed
tuations.
si-
633
634
635
Hedge
negligence about right kinds of, 349
kinds of, commonly sown, 330
bulbous foxtail, 338
great meadow, 339
creeping meadow, 360
vernal, 361
crested dog’s-tail, 362
cock’s-tail or feather, 363
fine bent, „ 364
mountain-hair, 365
silver-hair, 366
flote fescue, 367
meadow foxtail, 368
annual meadow, 369
tall oat, 372
yellow’ oat, 373
rough oat, 374
upright broom, 373
blue dog’s-tail, 376
rough cock’s-foot, 377
tall fescue, 378
hard fescue, 379
meadow cat’s-tail, 380
how to make experiments w’ith, 381
Grazing compared with the plough, 64
Grenet's mode of granulating potatoes, 31
Grubs, 102
H
Ha-ha, or sunk fence,
Harrow, improved,
properties of new,
Haymaking,
of red clover,
535
, black alder, N° 636
birch, 637
on the top of stone fences, 638
elms, 640
quick, 641
of fruit-trees, 642
hornbeam in Germany, 643
Dr Anderson on mending de¬
cayed, 644
Karnes on, 645
thorn, 647
nursery for, 648, 639
raised from old roots, 649
mode of planting thorn, 630
securing, 631
training, 632
plashing, disapproved
on the side of the bank,
filling gaps of,
whins for, when necessary,
Bakewell’s,
in stony soils,
repairing,
thickening of,
cutting down,
of,
653, 661
654
when
impro¬
per,
Mr Erskine’s
oak trees in,
raising holly for,
of whins or furze,
of gooseberries,
in the face of a wall,
Hemp, 470,
culture of, in Prussia, &c.
History of agriculture,
Hogs, experiments on fattening,
Hog-sty described,
Holcus lanatus,
Hops, once forbidden in malt liquors, 484
655
636
657
638
660
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
676
47 r
472
7
561
362
54
expence of cultivating,
in Essex,
profit of, precarious,
in Norfolk,
Horses and oxen compared,
supposed loss by keeping,
gradually gaining a preference
over oxen.
calculation in favour of,
black cart,
Bakewell’s,
prices of stallions,
Marshall on the breed of,
Norfolk breed of,
Suffolk breed of,
Yorkshire,
Lanarkshire,
Norfolk management of
followed in Scotland,
expence of keeping,
roots used for feeding,
whins used,
Husbandmen, why led sometimes to
prefer cattle to corn,
Husbandry, horse-hoeing,
485
486
487
488
J2*
525
C32
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
42
67-
453 .
Insects
536
I
Insects destroy vegetables, N° ioi
destroyed by lime-water, 102
K
Kincardine, moss of, improved, 187
Levelling of ridges, 193, 194, 195, 196
Lime destroys one kind of poor soil, 74
enriches another, 73
Anderson’s opinion concerning, 77
what a proper soil for, 78
Lord Karnes’s theory of, incon¬
sistent, 80
water destroys insects, 102
Lucerne, ■ 62
culture of, 356
M
Manure, M. Parmentier upon, 436
practical rule for forming, 437
Lord Meadowbank’s mode of
converting moss into, 438
more common kinds of, 439
used in Norfolk, 440
Midland district, 441
Mr Marshall’s rules for raising, 441
lime as a, 443
operation of lime, 444
time of using lime, 445
quantity of lime, 446
lime on pasture fields, 447
limestone reduced to powder, 448
shell -marl, 449
clay and stone marls, 450
gypsum, 451
sea-sand, 432
Meadows watering, see Watering.
Mildew, a disease of wheat, 93
opinions concerning its causes, 94
Milk-vetch, 33
qualities of, 36
Moor, how to be cultivated, 189
Moss, nature and origin of, 184
black and yellow, 183
of Kincardine, removed by hu¬
man labour, 187
mode of improvingby Mr Smith, 188
Mosses, produced by cutting down fo-
rests, I85
Mould-hoard of the plough, 123
how to be formed, 126
N
Mature, process by which she fertilizes
the earth.
71
O
f)ats, valuable as human food, 19
culture of, 227
in Norfolk, 228
ploughed down, 229
wild, a weed in vale of Glou¬
cester, 230
AGRICULTURE.
Oats, not cultivated in vale of Glou¬
cester, N° 231
culture of, in the midland district
Yorkshire, 233
mode of threshing, 234
black, experiment on, 235
Obstacles to agricultural improve¬
ment, 109
Opiniotis about the cause of mildew, 94
Oxen and horses compared, 321
preferred to horses, 322
difficulty of shoeing, 323
calculations in favour of, 324
loss by not keeping, 323
not used in Norfolk, 326
objection to, in the vale of Glou¬
cester, 327
used in Cotswold, 328
moveable harness house of, 329
why the use of, declines in York¬
shire, 330
superiority of, to horses, 331
gradually going into disuse, 332
calculations against, 333
Palings, 625
Paring and burning, how far useful, 191
Parsnips, the culture of, too much ne¬
glected, 319
Mr Hazard’s mode of cul¬
ture, 320
culture of, with beans in Jer¬
sey, 321
Pasturage and agriculture, 66, 67
Pea, everlasting, 60
Pease, culture of, 253
setting in drills, 254
crops of, must not be repeated, 255
Marshall’s observations on, 236
drying of, 425
Poultry ought to be confined, 367
proper mode of keeping, 368
Perry, excellence of, 604
art of making, imperfect, 605, 606,
6°7
Pickles, to prevent smut or mildew in
wheat, 96
Plants, culmiferous, 200
leguminous, 201
their diseases ill understood, 90
Plough,. 112
its value, 113
may be improved, 114
the task it performs, 113
its general form, 116
advantages of this form, 117
its several parts, 119
its socks, 120
breadth of the sole of, 121
sole should be level, 122
length of, 123
slope of the coulter, 124
mouldboard of, 125
how to be formed, 126, 129
Index.
Plough, instrument for forming the
mouldboard, N°
position of the sod turned by
the plough,
mode of its action,
point of its draught,
in trim,
of Argyleshire,
objections to,
Scots,
described,
its properties,
where improper,
chain,
small single-horse,
Rotheram,
paring,
four-coultered,
Poa annua,
pratensis,
compressa.
Potato starch,
Potatoes,
granulated by Mr Grenet,
not prejudicial to mankind,
general culture,
particular culture,
to prevent the grub in,
cheap preparation of,
culture on small spots,
small farms,
mode for which a premium
was granted,
mode of taking up,
preserving,
clustered, experiments on,
greater experiments,
advantageous,
varieties of, endless,
the curl in,
modes of prevention,
how raised from seed,
by Dr Anderson, 275
if they degenerate, 276
how to obtain an early crop of, 277
planted by scooping out the
eyes, 278
Process, by which nature fertilizes the
127
128
130
132
J33
J34
J35
136
J37
*38
139
140
143
144
145
146
369
359
360
30
4C
31
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
107, 273
108
274
earth,
R
7i
Rabbits, value of, 364
enemies of, how destroyed, 565
Angora breed of, 366
Rape-seed, advantages of cultivating, 475
cutting and threshing of, 476
sowing of, 477
transplanting, 478
sheep fed on, in spring, 479
culture of, in Brabant, 480
Reapers, 423
Reaping, manner of, x 424
Ridges, high, for draining clay soils, 164
how formed, 192
inconvenient modes oflevelling, 193
when not to be levelled, 195
Ridges,
ndex.
lidges, proper direction of, N° 196, 197
narrow, advantageous, 198
lipeness, 422
toiler, ' 153
lolling, season for, 154
effects of, 155
loot of scarcity, culture of, 342
loota baga, see Swedish turnip:
loots used as human food, 22
more profitable than grain,
when used as food, 23
their defects as food, 24
are unfit for long preservation, 26
are too bulky for the stomach, 27
' how they differ from grain, 28
how rendered equal in value to
grain, 29
Forsyth’s process for reducing to
flour, 3 2
when given to cattle, should be
boiled, 558
cheap mode of boiling by steam, 559
lotation of crops, 416
dift’erent kinds of plants, 417
nature of the soil to be consi¬
dered, 418
exceptionable, 419
from pasture advisable, 420
examples of, 421
lotheram plough, 144
lunnet for cheese, 583, 584
S
ainfoin, culture of, 354
in England, 355
carcity, root of, 47
how cultivated, 342
cots plough, 137
properties of, 138
where improper, 139
heaves, size of, 426
keep, experiments on feeding with
^ roots, 563
keep's fescue grass, 48
hrubs, destroyed by flooding the
land, 89
ingle-horse plough, 143
mith, Mr, his mode of improving
moss, 188
mut, account of, 93
ock of the plough, 120
oils, four kinds of, 69
conjecture about the cause of
their being exhausted, 72
process, by which they are fer¬
tilized, 71
when poor, how Restored, 76
supposed perpetually fertile, 79
but never are so, 81
clay and sandy, 82
fertility of, limited, 83
pulverized by certain vegetables, 84
seemingly enriched by some, 85
'ole of the plough, 121
hmerville, Robert, Esq. account of
blight and smut, 91
Vol. I. Part II.
AGRICULTURE.
Sowing machine, universal, N° 157
Springs, the nature of, 173
Stacking, 428
Stacks, covering, 429
hay, _ 430
Stones, importance of removing, 158
mode of removing, 159
Swampy lands, how cultivated, 190
Swedish turnip, 332
culture of,in Nottinghamshire, 333
T
Tare, blue, 58
Theory of agriculture, first, defective, 10
difficulty of forming it, 11
what it ought to contain, 12
Timber trees, 510
which most profitable, 511
advantage of planting, 512
ameliorate the soil, 513
culture of, recommended, 514
increase of oak, 515, 516
underwood among, 517
mode of sowing, 518
Earl of Fife’s plantations of, 519
where plantations of, eligible
or otherwise, 520
Timothy-grass, 63
Trees for fruit, see Fruit trees.
Turkeys, how reared in Norfolk, 569
Turnip)-rooted cnSbagzs, culture of, 322
value of, 323,324
how raised for transplanting, 325
quantity of food, 326
experiment with, 3 27
disadvantages attending, 328
why to be cultivated, 329
number of sheep on an acre of, 330
experiments with, at Cullen
house, 331
Turnip, Swedish, see Swedish turnip.
cabbage, culture of, 334
Turnip-rooted cabbage, 37
Turnip-fly, 104
remedies against, 105
Turnips, 38
method of preserving, 306
culture of, 279
time and mode of sowing, 280
different sorts of, 281
seed, remarks on, 282
culture in Norfolk, 283
by drill and broad cast,
compared, 284
value of, as cattle’s food, 285
mode of preserving, 286
the fly injurious to, 287
seed, steeps for, if useful, 288
fumigation of, 289
to be rolled, 290
much seed ought to be sown, 291
when to be manured, 292
seed, the quality of, 294
instrument for transplanting, 293
Norfolk culture of, 296
t
537
Turnips, marl with, in Norfolk, N° 297
different manures with, in Nor¬
folk, . ^ 298
early, how raised in Norfolk, 299
mode of sowing and culture in
Norfolk, 300
raised for seed, 301
mode of planting, 302
scaring birds from, 303
drawing, 304
snow-sledge for, 305
Vegetable mould, apt to be buried, 194
Vegctables, their value is absolute or
relative, 13
are useful, directly or indi¬
rectly, ib.
produce fruit or roots, 15
profit of, limited by circum¬
stances, 65
nature of their growth, 68
are the food of each other, 73
some pulverize the soil, 84
some seem to enricji the soil, 85
diseases of, are ill-understood, 90
destroyed by insects, 101
cultivation of, divided into
four heads, ill
Vetch, bush, 59
Vetchling, yellow, 57
w
Watering meadows, when first prac¬
tised, 382
advantages of, 383
improves the land, 384
increase of produce from, 385
ought to be extended, 386
land capable of, 3^7
by springs and rivulets, if
preferred, 388
terms used in, 389
principles of, 39°
Mr Wright’s mode of, 391
objections answered, 392
used water, not good for, 393
repairing works, used in, 394
with muddy water, when
preferred, 395
good effects of, 396
Mr Wimpey’s opinion of, 397
Mr Forbes’s opinion of, 398
Mr Boswell’s ditto, 399
with land floods, 400
makes pasture preferable to
ploughed land, 401
Mr Wright’s directions for, 402
how grass consumed after, 403
how it may cause the rot in
sheep, 404
Mr Boswell’s rule for, 405
springy meadowimproved by, 406
hill sides improved by, 407
coarse lands, 408
. 3Y Watering
538
Watering, management of meadows af¬
ter, N° 409
how long to be continued, 410
spring feeding while, 411
from autumn to Candle¬
mas, 412
not to be too longcontinued, 413
advantage of rolling while, 414
explained by Mr Findlater, 415
Weeds, annual and perennial, 86
perennial, how destroyed, 87
Wetness is caused by rain or springs, 161
Wheat, the best kind of bread, 18
diseases to which it is liable, 91
fallowing for, 202
dressing, 203
AGRICULTURE.
Wheat, dressing, on sandy soil, N° 204
time for sowing, 205
propagated by dividing the
roots, 206
culture of, in Norfolk, 207
succession of crops in Norfolk, 208
rice-balking of, 209
manuring for, in Norfolk, 210
time of sowing, in Norfolk, 211
Norfolk mode of preparing the
seed, 212
sowing, 213
Norfolk mode of ploughing un¬
der furrow, 214
instruments for dibbling, 215
dibbling, objected to, 216
Index.
Wheat, midland district, culture of, N° 217
in vale of Gloucester, culture
°f» 218
small sheaves, 219
in Cotswold hills, 220
hoeing, good effects of, 221
cutting mildewed, very green, 222
in Yorkshire, culture of,
varieties of, raised,
prepared with arsenic,
Whins, food for horses,
Wo ad, culture of,
225
224
225
42
483
1
Young, Arthur, Esq. his experiments
to prevent the smut in wheat,
98
A G R
Agfifoihim AGRIFOLIUM, or Aquifolium. See Ilex,
H Botany Index.
AGRIGAN, or island of St Francis Xavier, in Geo-
l . graphy, one of the Ladrone or Marianne islands. It
is 50 miles in circumference, is very mountainous, and
has a volcano in it j situated in N. Lat. 19. 4. E. Long.
146.
AGRIGENTUM, in Ancient Geography, a city of
Sicily, part of the site of which is now occupied by
a town called Girgenti from the old name. See Gir-
GENTI.
According to ancient authors, Dedalus, the most fa¬
mous mechanician of fabulous antiquity, fled to this
spot for protection against Minos, and built many won¬
derful edifices for Cocalus king of the island. Long
after his flight, the people of Gela sent a colony hither
600 years before the birth of Christ j and from the
name of % neighbouring stream called the new city J-
cragas, whence the Romans formed the word Agrigen-
tum. Tiiese Greeks converted the ancient abode of the
Siculi into a citadel to guard the magnificent city which
they erected on the hillocks below.
An advantageous situation, a free government with
all its happy effects, and an active commercial spirit,
exalted their commonwealth to a degree of riches and
power unknown to the other Greek settlements, Syra¬
cuse alone excepted. But the prosperity of Agrigentum
appears to have been but of short duration, and tyranny
soon destroyed its liberties.
Phalaris was the first who reduced it to slavery. His
name is familiar to most readers on account of his
cruelty, and the brazen bull in which he tortured his
enemies. (See Phalaris.)—-Phalaris met with the
common fate of tyrants, and after his death the Agri-
gentines enjoyed their liberty for 150 years; .at the
expiration of which term Thero usurped the sovereign
authority. The moderation, justice, and valour of this
prince preserved him from opposition while living, and
have rescued his memory from the obloquy of posteri¬
ty. He joined his son-in-law Gelo, king of Syracuse,
in a war against the Carthaginians ; in the course of
A G R
which victory attended all his steps, and Sicily saw Agrigen.
herself for a time delivered from her African oppres- turn,
sors. Soon after his decease, his son Thrasydeus was » -
deprived of the diadem, and Agrigentum restored to
her old democratical government. Hucetius next di¬
sturbed the general tranquillity. He was a chief of
the mountaineers, descendants of the Siculi; and was
an overmatch for the Agrigentines while they were un¬
supported by alliances, but sank under the weight of
their union with the Syracusans. Some trifling alter¬
cations dissolved this union, and produced a war, in
which the Agrigentines were worsted, and compelled
to submit to humiliating terms of peace. Resentment
led them to embrace with joy the proposals of the A-
thenians, then meditating an attack upon Syracuse.
Their new friends soon made them feel that the sa¬
crifice of liberty and fortune would be the price of
their protection ; and this consideration brought them
speedily back to their old connections. But as if it
had been decreed that all friendship should be fatal to
their repose, the reconciliation and its effects drew up¬
on them the anger of the Carthaginians. By this ene¬
my their armies were routed, their city taken, their
race almost extirpated, and scarce a vestige of magnifi¬
cence was left. Agrigentum lay 50 years buried un¬
der its own ruins, when Timoleon, after triumphing
over the Carthaginians, and restoring liberty to Sici¬
ly, collected the descendants of the Agrigentines, and
sent them to re-establish the dwellings of their forefa¬
thers. Their exertions were rewarded with astonishing
success ; for Agrigentum rose from its ashes with such
a renewal of vigour, that in a very short time we find
it engaged in. the bold scheme of seizing a lucky mo¬
ment, when Agathocles and Carthage had reduced Sy¬
racuse to the lowest ebb, and arrogating to itself'supre-
macy over all the Sicilian republics. Xenodicus was
appointed the leader of this arduous enterprise ; and
had his latter operations been as fortunate as his first
campaign, Agrigentum would have acquired such a
preponderance of reputation and power, that the rival
states would not have even dated to attack it. But a
few
AORICrLTTJRE .
IJ£^17 \E \ 7.
7. A7 J
Fig.J.
Fy. 3. J\rc 2.
Sty/A’ t>/ AW7 /or S/Nt///r /'/<<//t//t
//. Milc/u// /?u//i C
Plate vtl
AO It I CULT IT RE
agricttl true
PLATE / 7//
'3. /irsl JTarrow
E. MMiM/f/t/ji!
aorictjlture
PLjITE IX.
i </■ 2. Dri// JtaAu
Fig 4. Faruig Floug/i
Fig. <3. Jict/ieram or Jh/ni/F/ougA
Fig. H. FalrnF Sira/v/ cnffer
FTP 2
FTP J
FTP 3
r, i>
£
St, y
^F6
-E. Milch/’//^/civtyb f'
AGRIC ULT IJKE
Plate X.
W-Arc/iibnld' jt/r ■
AGRIC UI/TURE
PLATE XL
PLATE XII.
AGRICULTURE.
»
. J ' _ : ■ ' " •
' ■ •; v * ,
!• ■ , ■
4
S/'eti'h ot' the < ’ISTEKXox,v<v // /hwi tifii'Vf.
ACiUK ULTI11E.
sketch ,'i'th,- Wheel ii‘i ■ / 11:1 zee -h />/.. \n; hiu.u \n>. 11>.
PLATE XIIL
Belle sculp {
A G R C 539 ] A G R
A^rigen- ^eW brilliant exploits were succeeded by a severe over¬
turn. throw; the Agrigentines lost courage, disagreed in
■■■—v council, and humbly sued for peace to Agathocles.
This commonwealth afterwards took a strong part with
Pyrrhus $ and when he left Sicily to the mercy of her
enemies, threw herself into the arms of Carthage. Du¬
ring the first Punic war Agrigentum was the head
quarters of the Carthaginians, and was besieged by the
Roman consuls, who after eight months blockade took
it by storm. It nevertheless changed masters several
times during the contest between these rival states, and
in every instance suffered most cruel outrages. After
this period very little mention of it occurs in history,
nor do we know the precise time of the destruction of
the old city and the building of the new one. See Gm-
GENTI.
The principal part of the ancient city lay in the
vale j the present town, called Girgenti, occupies the
mountain on which the citadel of Cocalus stood.
It was difficult to be more judicious and fortunate
in the choice of situation for a large city. The in¬
habitants were here provided with every requisite for
defence, pleasure, and comfort of life ; a natural wall,
formed by abrupt rocks, presented a strong barrier
against assailants j pleasant hills sheltered them on
three sides without impeding the circulation of air j
before them a broad plain, watered by the Acragas,
gave admittance to the sea breeze, and to a noble pro¬
spect of that awful element; the port or emporium lay
in view at the mouth of the river, and probably the
road across the flat was lined with gay and populous
suburbs.
The hospitality and parade for which the Agrigen¬
tines are celebrated in history were supported by an ex¬
tensive commerce 5 by means of which, the common¬
wealth was able to resist many shocks of adversity, and
always to rise again with fresh splendour. It was,
however, crushed by the general fall of Grecian liber¬
ty ; the feeble remnants of its population, which had
survived so many calamities, were at length driven out
of its walls by the Saracens, and obliged to lock them¬
selves up for safety among the bleak and inaccessible
rocks of the present city.
At the north-east angle of the ancient limits, upon
some foundations of large regular stones, a church has
been erected ; a road appears hewn in the solid rock
tor the convenience of the votaries who visited this
temple in ancient days. It was then dedicated to Ce¬
res and her daughter Proserpine, the peculiar patrones¬
ses of Sicily.
At the south-east corner, where the ground, rising
gradually, ends in a bold eminence, which is crowned
with majestic columns, are the ruins of a temple said to
have been consecrated to Juno. To the west of this
stands the building commonly called the temple of
Concord j the stone of which, and the other buildings,
is the same as that of the neighbouring mountains and
cliffs, a conglutination of sea sand and shells, full of
perforations, of a hard and durable texture, and a deep
reddish brown colour. This Doric temple has all its
columns, entablature, pediments, and walls entire j
only part of the roof is wanting. It owes its preserva¬
tion to the piety of some Christians, who have co¬
vered half the nave, and converted it into a church
consecrated under the invocation of St Gregory bishop Agrigen-
of Girgenti. . ^ min.
Proceeding in the same direction you walk between '
rows of sepulchres cut in the rock wherever it admit¬
ted of being excavated by the hand of men, or was so
aheady by that of nature. Some masses of it are hewn
into the shape of coffins ; others drilled full of small
square holes, employed in a different mode of interment,
and serving as receptacles of urns. One ponderous
piece of the rock lies in an extraordinary position j by
the failure of its foundation, or the shock of an earth¬
quake, it has been loosened from the general quarry,
and rolled down the declivity, where it now remains
supine with the cavities turned upwards. Only a single
column marks the confused heap of moss-grown ruins
belonging to the temple of Hercules. It stood on a
pi ejecting rock above a chasm in the ridge, which was
cut through for a passage to the emporium.
In the same tract, over some hills, is situated the
building usually called the tombofThero. It is sur¬
rounded by aged olive-trees, which cast a wild irregu¬
lar shade over the ruin. The edifice inclines to the
pyramidical shape, and consists at present of a triple
plinth, and a base supporting a square pedestal j upon
this plain solid foundation is raised a second order, ha¬
ving a window in each front, and at each angle two Io¬
nic pilasters crowned with an entablature of the Doric
order. Its inside is divided into a vault, a ground room,
and one in the Ionic story, communicating with each
other by means of a small internal staircase.
In the plain are seen the fragments of the temple of
Esculapius j part of two columns and two pilasters,
with an intermediate wall, support the end of a farm¬
house, and were probably the front of the cella. Pur¬
suing the track of the walls towards the west, you ar¬
rive at a spot which is covered with the gigantic re¬
mains of the temple of the Olympian Jupiter, minute-
ly described by Diodorus Siculus. It may literally be
said that it has not one stone left upon another j and
it is barely possible with the help of much conjecture,
to discover the traces of its plan and dimensions. Dio¬
dorus calls it the largest temple in the whole island :
but adds, that the calamities of war caused the work to
be abandoned before the roof could be put on j and
that the Agrigentines were ever after reduced to such
a state of poverty and dependence, that they never had
it in their power to finish this superb monument of the
taste and opulence of their ancestors. The length of
this temple was 370 Greek feet, its breadth 60, and
its height 220, exclusive of the foundations or basement
story : the extent and solidity of its vaults and under- -
works were wonderful 3 its spacious porticoes and ex¬
quisite sculpture were suited to the grandeur of the
whole. It was not built in the usual style of Sicilian
temples, with a cella of massive walls and a peristyle, but
was designed in a mixt taste with half columns let into
the walls on the outside, the inside exhibiting a plain
surface.
'I he next ruin belongs to the temple of Castor aud
Pollux : vegetation has covered the lower parts of the
building, and only a few fragments of columns appear
between the vines. This was the point of the hill
where the wall stopt on the brink of a large fish-pond
spoken of by Diodorus: it was cut in the solid rock
3 Y 2 30
Agrigen ■
turn
II
Agnppa.
A G R [ 54°
30 feet deep, the water was conveyed to it from the
hills. In it was bred a great quantity of fish for the
use of public entertainments ; swans and various other
, kinds of wild fowl swam along its surface, for the a-
musement of the citizens 5 and the great depth of water-
prevented an enemy from surprising the town on that
side. It is now dry and used as a garden. On the
opposite bank, are two tapering columns without their
capitals, most happily placed in a tuft of carob trees.
Monte Toro, where Hanno encamped with the Car¬
thaginian army, before the Roman consuls drew him
Into an engagement that ruined his defensive plan, is a
noble back-ground to this picturesque group of objects.
 The whole space comprehended within the walls of
the ancient city abounds with traces of antiquity, foun¬
dations, brick arches, and little channels for the con¬
veyance of water j but in no part are any ruins that
can be presumed to have belonged to places of public
entertainment. This is the more extraordinary, as the
Agrigentines were a sensual people, fond of shows and
dramatic performances, and the Romans never dwelt
in any place long without introducing their savage
games. Theatres and amphitheatres seem better calcu¬
lated than most buildings to resist the outrages of time ;
and it is surprising that not even the vestiges of then-
form should remain on the ground.
AGRIMONIA, Agrimony. See Botany Index.
Hemp Agrimony. See Eupatorium, Botany
Index.
Water Hemp Agrimony. See Bidens, Botany
Index.
AGRIONIA, in Grecian antiquity, festivals annual¬
ly celebrated by the Boeotians in honour of Bacchus.
At these festivals the women pretended to search after
Bacchus as a fugitive and, after some time gave over
their inquiry, saying that he had fled to the Muses, and
was concealed among them.
AGEIOPHAGI, in antiquity, a name given to
those who fed on wild beasts. The word is Greek,
compounded of ctypo(, “ wild,” “ savage,” and
“ I eat.” The name is given, by ancient writers, to
certain people, real or fabulous, said to have fed alto¬
gether on lions or panthers. Rliny and Solinus speak
of Agr'iophagi in Ethiopia, and Ptolemy of others in
India on this side the Ganges.
AGRIPPA, Cornelius, born at Cologne in i486,
a man of considerable learning, and by common report
a great magician } for the monks at that time suspected
every thing of heresy or sorcery which they did not un¬
derstand. He composed his Treatise of the Excellence
of Women to insinuate himself into the lavour of Mar¬
garet of Austria, governess of the Low-Countries. He
accepted of the charge of historiographer to the empe¬
ror, which that princess gave him. The treatise of the
Vanity of the Sciences, which he published in 1530, en¬
raged his enemies extremely; as did that of Occult Phi¬
losophy, which he printed soon after at Antwerp. He
was imprisoned in France for something he had written
against Francis I.’s mother; but was enlarged, and went
to Grenoble, where he died in 1534. His works are
printed in two volumes octavo.
Agrippa, Herod, the son of Aristobulus and Ma-
riamne, and grandson to Herod the Great, was born
in the year of the world 3997, three years before the
birth of our Saviour, and seven years before the vulgar
2
] A G R
era. After the death of Aristobulus his father, Jo-
sephus informs us, that Herod his grandfather took <-
care of his education, and sent him to Rome to make
his court to Tiberius. The emperor conceived a great
affection for Agrippa, and placed him near his son
Drusus. Agrippa very soon won the graces of Drusus,
and of the empress Antonia. But Drusus dying sud¬
denly, all those who had been much about him were
commanded by Tiberius to withdraw from Rome,
lest the sight and presence of them should renew his
affliction. Agrippa, who had indulged his inclina¬
tion to liberality, was obliged to leave Rome over¬
whelmed with debts, and in a very poor condition. He
did not think it fit to go to Jerusalem, because he was
not able to make a figure there suitable to his birth.
He retired therefore to the castle of Massada, where
he lived, rather like a private person than a prince.
Herod the tetrarch, his uncle, who had married He-
rodias his sister, assisted him for some time with great
generosity. He made him principal magistrate of Ti¬
berias, and presented him with a large sum of money :
but all this was not sufficient to answer the excessive ex-
pences and profusion of Agrippa; so that Herod grow¬
ing weary of assisting him, and reproaching him with
his bad economy, Agrippa took a resolution to quit
Judea, and return to Rome. Upon his arrival, he
was received into the good graces of liberius, and
commanded to attend Iiberius Nero the son of Diu-
sus. Agrippa, however, having more inclination for
Caius the son of Germanicus, and grandson of Anto¬
nia, chose rather to attach himself to him ; as if he had
some prophetic views of the future elevation of Caius,
who at that time was beloved by all the world. The
great assiduity and agreeable behaviour of Agrippa so
far engaged this prince, that he kept him continually
about him.
Agrippa being one day overheard by Eutyches, a
slave°whom he had made free, to express his wishes for
Tiberius’s death and the advancement of Caius, the
slave betrayed him to the emperor: whereupon A-
grippa was loaded with fetters, and committed to the
custody of an officer. Tiberius soon after dying, and
Caius Caligula succeeding him, the new empercr
heaped many favours and much wealth upon Agrippa ;
changed his iron fetters into a chain of gold; set a
royal diadem upon his head ; and gave him the tetrar-
chy which Philip, the son of Herod the Great had
been possessed of, that is, Batanma and Trachonitis.
To this be added that of Lysanias; and Agrippa re¬
turned very soon into Judea to take possession of his
new kingdom.
Caius being soon after killed, Agrippa, who was
then at Rome, contributed much by his advice to
maintain Claudius in possession of the imperial dignity,
to which he had been advanced by the army. But in
this affair Agrippa acted a part wherein he showed
more cunning and address than sincerity and honesty
for while he made a show of being in the interest of
the senate, he secretly advised Claudius to be resolute,
and not to abandon his good fortune. . The emperor,
as an acknowledgment for his kind offices, gave him
all Judea and the kingdom of Chalcis, which had been
possessed by Herod his brother. T bus Agrippa be¬
came of a sudden one of the greatest princes of the
east; and was possessed of as much, if not more ter¬
ritories
AGE [ 541 ] A G U
^rippa, ritories than had been held by Herod the Great his
(rippina. grandfather. He returned to Judea, and governed it
-nr-”-1 to the great satisfaction of the Jews. But the desire
of pleasing them, and a mistaken zeal for their religion,
induced him to commit an unjust action, the memory of
which is preserved in Scripture, Act§ xii. 1, 2, &c.; for
about the feast of the passover, in the year of Jesus Christ
44, St James major, the son of Zebedee and brother of
St John the Evangelist, was seized by his order and
put to death. He proceeded also to lay hands on St
Peter, and imprisoned him, waiting till the festival was
over, that he might then have him executed. But
God having miraculously delivered St Peter from the
place of his confinement, the designs of Agrippa were
frustrated. After the passover, this prince went from
Jerusalem to Caesarea, and there had games performed
in honour of Claudius. Here the inhabitants of Tyre
and Sidon waited on him to sue for peace. Agrippa
being come early in the morning to the theatre, with
a design to give them audience, seated himself on his
throne dressed in a robe of silver-tissue, worked in the
most admirable manner. The rising sun darted on it
with its rays, and gave it such a lustre as the eyes of
the spectators could not endure. When therefore the
king spoke to the Tyrians and Sidonians, the parasites
around him began to say, that it was the voice of a
god, and not that of a man. Instead of rejecting these
impious flatteries, Agrippa received them with an air
of complacency 5 but at the same time observed an owl
above him on a cord. He had seen the same bird be¬
fore when he was in bonds by order of Tiberius : and
it was then told him, that he should be soon set at li¬
berty j but that whenever he saw the same thing a se¬
cond time, he should not live above five days afterwards.
He was therefore extremely terrified ; and he died at
the end of five days, racked with tormenting pains in
his bowels, and devoured with worms. Such was the
death of Herod Agrippa, after a reign of seven years,
in the year of Christ 44.
Agrippa II. son of the preceding Herod, was made
king of Chalcis j but three or four years after, he was
deprived of that kingdom by Claudius, who gave him
in the place of it other provinces. In the war Ves¬
pasian carried on against the Jews, Herod sent him a
succour of 2000 men; by which it appears that though
a Jew by religion, he was yet entirely devoted to the
Homans, whose assistance indeed he wanted to secure the
peace of his own kingdom. He lived to the third year
of Trajan, and died at Borne A. C. 100. He was the
seventh and last king of the family of Herod the Great.
It was before him and Berenice his sister that St Paul
pleaded his cause at Caesarea'.
Agrippa, Marcus Vispaniusy son-in-law to Au¬
gustus, of mean birth, but one of the most considerable
generals among the Bomans. Augustus’s victory over
Pompey and Mark Antony was owing to his counsel.
He adorned the city with the Pantheon, baths, aquep
ducts, &c.
AGRIPPINA, daughter of Germanicus, sister of
Caligula, and mother of Nero *, a woman of wit, but
excessively lewd. She was thrice married, the last time
to Claudius her own uncle, whom she poisoned to make
way for Nero her son. Nero afterwards caused her to
be murdered in her chamber, when she bid the execu¬
tioner stab her first in the belly that had brought forth Agrippi; u
such a monster. ||
Agrippina colonia ubiorvm, in Ancient Geo- ASuil!„a-
graphy, now Cologne: so called from Agrippina, the '' ''
daughter of Germanicus, and mother of Nero, who
had a colony sent thither at her request by the empe¬
ror Claudius, to honour the place of her birth. See.
Cologne.
AGRIPPINIANS, in Church Histoi'y, the followers
of Agrippinus bishop of Carthage, in the third century,
who first introduced and defended the practice of re-
baptization.
AGROM, a disease frequent in the East Indies, ia
which the tongue is parched, chaps, and is sometimes
covered with white spots. The Indians attribute this
disease to extreme heat of the stomach.
AGROSTEMMA, Wild Lychnis, or Campion,
in Botany. See Botany Index.
AGROSTIS, Bent-grass, mBotany. See Botany
Index.
AGROSTOGRAPHIA, signifies the history or de¬
scription of grasses.
AGROUND, the situation of a ship whose bottom,
or any part of it, hangs, or rests upon the ground, so as
to render her immoveable, till a greater quantity of wa¬
ter floats her off, or till she is drawn out into the stream
by the application of mechanical powers.
AGR1PNIA, -Among Physicians, implies an inapti¬
tude to sleep ; a troublesome symptom of feverish and
other disorders.
Agrypnia, in the Greek Church, implies the vigil
of any of the greater festivals.
AGUE, a general name for all periodical fevers,,
which, according to the different times of the returns of
the feverish paroxysm, are denominated tertian, quartan,
and quotidian. See Medicine Index.
AauE-Cake, the popular name for a hard tumour on
the left side of the belly, lower than the false ribs, said
to be the effect of intermittent fevers.
AauE-Tree, a name given to the sassafras, on account
of its febrifuge qualities.
AGUEPERSE, a town of France, situated in the
Lyonnois, in the department of Puy-de-Dome, about 15
miles north of Clermont.
AGUESSEAU, H. F. an eminent French lawyer.
See Supplement.
AGUILLANEUF, or Augillaneue, a form of !
rejoicing used among the ancient Franks on the first
day of the year. The word is compounded of the
French A, “ to,” gui, “ misleto,” and Can neuf, “ the
new year.” Its origin is traced from a druid ceremo¬
ny : the priests used to go yearly in December, which
with them was reputed a sacred month, to gather misleto
of the oak in great solemnity. The prophets marched
in the front, singing hymns in honour of their deities 5
after them came a herald with a caduceps in his hand $
these were followed by three druids abreast, bearing
the things necessary for sacrifice j last of all came the
chief or arch druid, accompanied with the train of
people. The chief druid climbing the oak, cut oft’ the
misleto with a golden sickle, and the other druids re¬
ceived it in a white cloth 5 on the first day of the year
it was distributed among the people, after having bles¬
sed and consecrated it by crying A gui Can neuf, to
proclaim. *
Aguilla-
neuf
A G U [ 542 ] AHA
proclaim the new year. This cry is still continued in
Picardy, with the addition of Planter, Planter, to
wish a plentiful year. In Burgundy and some other
parts, the children use the same word to beg a new-
year’s gift. In latter times the name Aguillaneuf was
also given to a sort of begging, practised in some dio¬
ceses, for church tapers, on new year’s day, by a troop
of young people of both sexes, having a chief, &c. It
was attended with various ridiculous ceremonies, as
dancing in the church, &c. which occasioned the synods
to suppress it.
AGUILAR, a town of Spain, in the province of Na¬
varre, about 24 miles west from Estella.
Aguilar del Campo, a town of Old Castile, with the
title of marquisate, about 15 leagues north of the city
of Burgos.
AGUILLON, or Aguillonius, Francis, a Jesuit,
born at Brussels : he was rector of the Jesuits college at
Antwerp, and eminent for his skill in mathematics.
He was the first who introduced that science among the
Jesuits in the Low Countries: he wrote a book ot Op¬
tics, and was employed in finishing his Catoptrics and
Dioptrics, when he died in 1617*
AGUIRRA, Joseph SiENZ de, a Benedictine, and
one of the most learned men of the 17th century, was
born March 24. 1630. He was censor and secretary of
the supreme council of the inquisition in Spain, and in¬
terpreter of the Scriptures in the university of Sala¬
manca. He printed three volumes in folio upon Philo¬
sophy, a commentary upon Aristotle’s ten books of E-
thics, and other pieces. He died at Rome in 1699.
AGUL, in Botany, a synonyme of the hedysarum.
See Hedysarum, Botany Index.
AGUR. The xxxth chapter of the Proverbs be¬
gins with this title: “ The words of Agur, the son of
Jakeh 5” which, according to the signification of the
original terms, may be translated, as the Vulgate has
it, Verba congregantis, jilii vomentis ; which transla¬
tion Le Clerc condemns, supposing these to be pro¬
per names which ought not to be translated. These
words are rendered by Louis de Dieu, “ the words
of him who has recollected himself, the son of obe¬
dience.” The generality of the fatliers and commen¬
tators will have it, that Solomon describes himself un¬
der the name Agur the son of Jakeh j others con¬
jecture that Agur, as well as Lemuel (in chap. xxxi.
1.) were wise men who lived in the time of Solomon,
and were his interlocutors in the book of Proverbs j
an opinion which F. Calmet thinks is without the
least show of probability, this book being nothing like
a dialogue. This last expositor thinks it probable,
that Agur was an inspired author different from Solo¬
mon, whose sentences it was thought fit to join with
those of this prince, because of the conformity of their
matter.
AGURAH, in Jewish antiquity, the name of a sil¬
ver coin, otherwise called gerah and keshita.
AGURIUM, or Agyrium, in Ancient Geography,
a town of Sicily in the Val di Demona, near the river
Semetus. The people were called Populus Agyrinensis
by Cicero ; Agyrinus by Pliny. It was the birth-place
of Diodorus Siculus, as he himself testifies j but he calls
it Argyrium, as it is now called S. Philippo d?Argyrone,
which modern name seems to confirm that Argyrium is
the true reading.
AGUSADURA, in ancient customs, a fee due from A<rUsadure
vassals to their lord for the sharpening their ploughing |]
tackle. Anciently the tenants in some manors were not Allf*b.
allowed to have their rural implements sharpened by any 1"""v ~
but whom the lord appointed ; for which an acknow¬
ledgment was tc be paid, called agu sadura, in some
places agusage: which some take to be the same with
what was otherwise called reillage, from the ancient
French reille, a ploughshare.
AGUSTINA, a new earth j which, as the word
signifies, is tasteless, insoluble in water, and when pure
resembles alumina. It was discovered in the year 1800
by Trommsdorff in the Saxon beryl. But as his expe¬
riments have not been repeated, the existence ol this
earth rests solely on his authority.
AGUTI, in Zoology, the trivial name of a species
of the mouse, belonging to the mammalia glires of
Linnaeus.
AGYEI, in antiquity, a kind of obelisks, sacred to
Apollo, erected in the vestibules of houses, by way of
security.
AGYNEIA, in Botany. See Botany Index.
AGYNIANI, in church history, a sect who con¬
demned all use of flesh, and marriage, as not instituted
by God, but introduced at the instigation of the devil.
The word is compounded of the privative *, and yvvn,
woman. They are sometimes also called Agynenses, and
Agynii: and are said to have appeared about the year
694. It is no wonder they were of no long continuance.
Their tenets coincide in a great measure with those of
the Abelians, Gnostics, Cerdonians, and other preach¬
ers of chastity and abstinence.
AGYRTiE, in antiquity, a kind of strolling im¬
postors, running about the country to pick up money,
by telling fortunes at rich men’s doors $ pretending to
cure diseases by charms, sacrifices, and other religious
mysteries j also to expiate the crimes of their deceased
ancestors, by virtue of certain odours and fumigations j
to torment their enemies, by the use of magical verses,
and the like. The word is Greek, AyvgUq formed ot
the verb “ I congregate j” alluding to the prac¬
tice of charlatans or quacks, who gather a crowd about
them.
Agyrtce, among the Greeks, amount to the same with
JEruscatores among the Latins, and differ not much
from gypsies among us.
AHAB, son of Omri king of Israel, succeeded his
father A. M. 3086, and surpassed all his predecessors
in impiety and wickedness. He married Jezebel the
daughter of Ethbaal king of the Zidonians, who in¬
troduced the idols of Baal and Astarte among the Is¬
raelites, and engaged Ahab in the worship of these
false deities. God, being provoked by the sins of
Ahab, sent the prophet Elijah to him (1 Kings xvii.
1. seqi), who declared to him, that there would be a
famine of three years continuance. The dearth having
lasted three years, the prophet desired Ahab to gather
all the people to Mount Carmel, and with them the
prophets of Baal : when they were thus assembled,
Elijah caused fire to descend from heaven upon his sa¬
crifice, after which he obtained of God that it should
rain; and then the earth recovered its former fertility.
Six years after this, Ben-hadad king of Syria (chap,
xx.) laid siege to Jerusalem. But God, provoked at
this proud Syrian, sent a prophet to Ahab, not only
A. H A [ 543 ]
AHA
to assure liim of victory, but to instruct him likewise
in what manner he was to obtain it. Ahab was or¬
dered to review the princes of the provinces, which he
found to be a choice company, consisting of 232 young
men, who were to command the people in Samaria,
amounting to about 7000 men ; with this small army
Ahab was directed to fall upon the great host of the
Syrians, and that at noon-day, while Ben-hadad and
the 32 kings that accompanied him were drinking and
making merry. Ben-hadad having notice that they
were marching out of the city, ordered them to he
brought before him alive, whatever their designs were ;
but the young men, followed by this small army, ad¬
vanced, and killed all that opposed them. Such a pa¬
nic seized the Syrian troops, that they began to fly,
and even Ben-hadad himself mounted his horse and fled
with his cavalry : which Ahab perceiving, pursued
them, killed great numbers of them, and took a con¬
siderable booty. After this the prophet came to Ahab,
to animate him with fresh courage, and to caution him
to keep upon his guard $ assuring him, that Ben-hadad
would return against him the year following. Ac¬
cording to this prediction, at the end of the year he
returned and encamped at Aphek, with a resolution
to give the fsraelites battle. Both armies being ranged
in order of battle for seven days successively, at length
upon the seventh day, a battle ensued, wherein the Is¬
raelites killed 100,000 of the Syrians, and the rest fled
to Aphek ; but as they were pressing to get into the
city, the walls of Aphek fell upon them and killed
27>000 more. Ben-hadad throwing himself upon the
mercy of Ahab, this prince received him into his own
chariot, and made an alliance with him. The year
following, Ahab desiring to make a kitchen garden near
his palace (chap, xxi.), requested of one Naboth, a
citizen ot Jezreel, that he would sell him his vineyard,
because it lay convenient for him. But being refused,
he returned in great discontentment to his house,
threw himself upon the bed, turned towards the wall,
and would eat nothing. Jezebel his wife coming in,
asked the reason of his great concern •, of which being
informed, she procured the death of Naboth, and Ahab
took possession of his vineyard. As he returned from
Jezreel to Samaria, the prophet Elijah met him, and
said, “ Hast thou killed and also taken possession ? Now
saith the Lord, In the place where dogs licked up the
blood of Naboth, shall dogs lick thy blood, even thine.
As for Jezebel, of her the Lord spoke, saying, The
dogs shall eat Jezebel by the way of Jezreel.” Ahab,
hearing these and other denunciations, rent his clothes,
put sackcloth upon his flesh, and gave other indications
of his sorrow’ and repentance. But his repentance was
neither sincere nor persevering. Two years after tiiese
things, Jehoshaphat king of Judah came to Samaria
to visit Ahab (chap, xxii.) at a time when he was
preparing to attack Ramoth-gilead, which Ben-hadad
king of Syria unjustly withheld from him. The king
ot Israel invited Jehoshaphat to accompany him in
this expedition j which that prince agreed to do, but
desired that some prophet might first be consulted.
Ahab therefore assembled the prophets of Baal, in num-
oer about 400 5 who all concurred in exhorting the
king to march resolutely against Ramoth-gilead. But
Micaiah being also consulted, at Jehoshaphat’s sugges¬
tion, prophesied the ruin of Ahab. Upon this, Ahab
gave orders to his people to seize Micaiah, and to car¬
ry him to Amon the governor of the city, and to Joash
the king’s son j telling him in his name, “ Put this
fellow in prison, and feed him with the bread of af¬
fliction, and v/ith the water of affliction, until I come
in peace.” But Micaiah said, “ If thou return at all
in peace, the Lord hath not spoken by me.” Ahab,
therefore, and Jehoshaphat, marched up to Ramoth-
gilead ; and the king of Israel said unto Jehoshaphat,
“ I will disguise myself, and enter into the battle, but
put thou on my robe for he knew that the king
of Syria had commanded two-and-thirty captains that
had rule over his chariots, saying, “ Fight neither
with small nor with^ great, save only with the king of
Israel.” Ihese officers, therefore, having observed
that Jehoshaphat was dressed in royal robes, took
him for the king of Israel, and fell upon him with
great impetuosity : but this prince seeing himself pres¬
sed so closely, cried out; and the mistake being dis¬
covered, the captains of the king of Syria gave over
pursuing him. But one of the Syrian army shot a
random arrow, which pierced the heart of Ahab. The
battle lasted the whole day, and Ahab continued in
his chariot with his face turned towards the Syrians.
In the mean time, his blood was still issuing from his
wound, and falling in his chariot; and towards the
evening he died : whereupon proclamation was made,
by the sound of trumpet, that every man should return
to his own city and country. The king of Israel be¬
ing dead, was carried to Samaria and buried: but his
chariot and the reins of his horses were washed in the
fish-pool of Samaria, and the dogs licked his blood, ac¬
cording to the word of the prophet. Such was the end
of Ahab. His son Ahaziah succeeded him, in the year
of the world 3107.
AHiETULA, the trivial name of a species of the
coluber. See Coluber.
AHASUERUS, or Artaxerxes, the husband of
Esther j and, according to Archbishop Usher and F.
Calmet, the Scripture name for Darius the son of Hy-
staspes, king of Persia j though Scaliger supposed
Xerxes to have been the husband of Esther, or the
Ahasuerus of Scripture : and Dr Prideaux believes
him to be Artaxerxes Longimanus. See History of
Persia.
AHAZ, king of Judah, the son of Jotham ; remark¬
able for his vices and impieties. One of his sons he
consecrated, by making him pass through and perisfl
by the fire, in honour of the false god Moloch ; and
he offered sacrifices and incense upon the high places,
upon hills, and in groves. Rezin king of Syria and
Pekah king of Israel invaded Judah in the beginning
of the reign of Ahaz; and having defeated his army
and pillaged the country, they laid siege to Jerusalem,
When they found that they could not make themselves
masters of that city, they divided their army, plunder¬
ed the country, and made the inhabitants prisoners of
war. Rezin and bis part of the confederate army
marched with all their spoil to Damascus j but Pekah
with his division of the army having attacked Ahaz,
killed 120,000 men of his army in one battle, and car¬
ried away men, women, and children, without distinc¬
tion, to the number of 200,000. But as they were
carrying those captives to Samaria, the prophet Oded,
with the principal inhabitants of the city, came out to
meet
A H I [ 544 1 A H X
meet them } and by their remonstrances prevailed with
them to set their prisoners at liberty. At the same
Ahljah. time, the Philistines and Edomites invaded other parts
 ^ ' of his land, killed multitudes of the people, and carried
off much booty. In this distressed condition, Ahaz
finding no other remedy for his affairs, sent ambassadors
to Tiglath-pileser king of the Assyrians j and to engage
him to his interest, he stripped the temple and city of
all the gold which he could meet with, and sent it as a
present. Accordingly Tiglath-pileser marched to the
assistance of Ahaz, attacked Rezin and killed him, took
his capital Damascus, destroyed it, and removed the in¬
habitants thereof to Cyrene.
The misfortunes of this prince had no influence to
make him better •, on the contrary, in the times of
his greatest affliction, he sacrificed to the Syrian dei¬
ties, whom he looked upon as the authors ot his cala¬
mities, and endeavoured to render propitious to him,
bv honouring them in this manner. He broke in
pieces the vessels of the house of God, shut up the
gates of the temple, and erected altars in all parts.of
Jerusalem. He set up altars likewise in all the cities
of Judah, with a design to offer incense on them. At
length he died, and was buried in Jerusalem, but not
in the sepulchres of the kings of Judah his predeces¬
sors : which honour he was deprived of on account of
his iniquitous course of life. Hezekiah his son suc¬
ceeded him in the year of the world 3287, before
Jesus Christ 726.
AHAZIAH, the son and successor of Ahab king
of Israel, reigned two years, part alone and part with
his father Ahab, who ordained him his associate in the
kingdom a year before his death. Ahaziah imitated
his father’s impieties (1 Kings xxii. 52. seq.), and paid
his adoration to Baal and Astarte, the worship of whom
had been introduced in Israel by Jezebel his mother.
The Moabites, who had been always obedient to the
kings of the ten tribes ever since their separation from
the kingdom of Judah, revolted after the death of A-
hab, and refused to pay the ordinary tribute. Aha¬
ziah had not leisure or power to reduce them (2 Kings
i. I, 2, &c.) for about the same time, having fallen
through a lattice from the top of his house, he hurt
himself considerably, and sent messengers to Ekron, in
order to consult Baalzebub, the god of that place,
whether he should recover of the indisposition occa¬
sioned by this accident. But the prophet Elijah went
to Ahaziah, and declared that he should not recover
from his illness : and accordingly he died in the year
of the world 3108, and Jehoram his brother succeeded
to the crown.
Ahaziah, king of Judah, the son of Jehoram and
Athaliah, succeeded his father in the kingdom of
Judah, in the year of the world 3119. He walked
iin the ways of Ahab’s house, to which he was allied.
He reigned only one year. He was slain by Jehu the
son of Nimshi.
AHEAD, a sea term, signifying further onward
than the ship, or at any distance before her, lying im¬
mediately on that point of the compass to which her
stem is directed. It is used in opposition to astern,
which expresses the situation of any object behind the
ship.
AHIJAH, the prophet of Shilo. He is thought
to be the person who spoke twice to Solomon from
God, once while he was building the temple (1 Kings Aliija'i,
vi. n.)» at which time he promised him his protec-v™*”
tion j and at another time (id. xi. 6.) after his falling
into all his irregularities, when God expressed his in¬
dignation with great threatenings and reproaches. A-
hijah was one of those who wrote the annals or history
of this prince (2 Chr. ix. 29.). The same prophet
declared to Jeroboam that he would usurp the king¬
dom (1 Kings xi. 29. &c.), and that two heifers should
alienate him from the Lord, meaning the golden calves
erected by Jeroboam, one at Dan, the other at Bethel.
About the end of Jeroboam’s reign, towards the year
of the world 3046, Abijah the son of that prince fell
sick*, upon which Jeroboam sent his wife to this pro¬
phet to inquire what would become of the child. The
queen therefore went to Ahijah’s house in Shilo, dis¬
guised : But the prophet, upon hearing the sound of
her feet, said, “ Come in, thou wife of Jeroboam, why
feignest thou thyself to be another ? for I am sent to
thee with heavy tidings.” Then he commanded her
to go and tell Jeroboam all the evil that the Lord had
declared he would bring upon his house for his impie¬
ties ; that so soon as she should enter into the city her
son Abijah should die, and should be the only one 01
Jeroboam’s house that should come to the grave or re¬
ceive the honours of a burial. Ahijah in all probabi¬
lity did not long survive the time of this last prophecy ;
but with the time and manner of his death we are not
acquainted. i
AHITOPHEL, a native of Gillo, was for some
time the counsellor of King David, whom he at length
deserted, by joining in the rebellion of Absalom. This
prince, upon his being preferred to the crown by the
greatest part of the Israelites, sent for Ahitophel from
Gillo (2 Sam. xv. 12.) to assist him with his advice in
the present state of his affairs : for at that time Ahi-
tophel’s counsels were received as the oracles of God
himself (chap. xvi. ultd). Nothing gave David more
uneasiness than this event; and when Hushai his friend
came to wait on him and attend him in his flight, he
intreated him to return rather to Jerusalem, make a
show of offering his services to Absalom, and endea¬
vour to frustrate the prudent measures which should be
proposed by Ahitophel. When Absalom was come
to Jerusalem, he desired Ahitophel to deliberate with
his other counsellors upon the measures which were
proper for him to take. Ahitophel advised him in the
first place to abuse his father’s concubines j so that
when his party should understand that he had dis¬
honoured his father in this manner, they might con¬
clude that there were no hopes of a reconciliation, and
therefore espouse his interest more resolutely. A tent,
therefore, being prepared for this purpose upon the ter¬
race of the king’s palace, Absalom, in the sight of all
Israel, lay with his father’s concubines. The next
thing Ahitophel proposed was in the terms following :
“ Let me now choose out 12,000 men, and I will arise
and pursue after David this night, and I will come
upon him while he is weary and weak-handed, and I
will make him afraid, and all the people that are with
him flee, and I will smite the king only; and I will
bring back all the people unto thee j the man whom
thou seekest is as if all returned : so all the people
shall be in peace.” This advice w'as very agreeable
to Absalom and all the elders of Israel. However,
Absalom
Ai.
, , J . A . 1 [ 545 ]
Ahitophel Absaloiu desired Hushai to be called to have his opi- who had
nion. Ilushai being come, and hearing what advice
Ahitophel had given, said, “ The counsel which Ahi-
tophel has given is not good at this time $ what, for
the present in my opinion, may do better, is this:
Let all Israel be gathered unto thee, from Dan even
to Beersheba, as the sand that is by the sea for multi¬
tude, and put thysell in the midst of them, and where-
eyer David is, we may fall upon him, and overwhelm
him with our numbers, as the dew falleth upon the
ground.” I he last advice being more agreeable to
Absalom and all the elders of Israel, rvas preferred j
upon which Ahitophel saddled his ass, went to his
house at Gillo, hanged himself, and was buried in the
sepulchre of his fathers. He foresaw, without doubt,
all that would happen in consequence of Hushai’s ad¬
vice, and was determined to prevent the death which
he had deserved, and which David would probably have
inflicted on him, as soon as he should be resettled on
his throne.
AHMELLA, in Botany. See Bidens, Botany
Index.
AHOLIBAH and Aholah, are two feigned names
made use of by Ezekiel (xxiii. 4.) to denote the two
kingdoms of Judah and Samaria. Aholah and Aholi-
bah are represented as two sisters of Egyptian extrac¬
tion. Aholah stands for Samaria, and Aholibah for
Jerusalem. The first fignifies a tent; and the second,
my tent is in her. They both prostituted themselves
to the Egyptians and Assyrians, in imitating their abo¬
minations and idolatries j.for which reason they were
abandoned to those very people for whom they had
shown so passionate and so impure an affection $ they
were carried into captivity, and reduced to the severest
servitude.
AHULL, in the sea-language, the situation of a ship
when all her sails are furled on account of the violence
of the storm, and when having lashed her helm on the
lee-side, she lies nearly with her side to the wind and
sea, her head being somewhat inclined to the direction
of the wind.
AHUN, a town of France, in the Upper Marche
and generality of Moulins, in the department of Creuse.
It is seated on the river Creuse, eight miles south-east of
Gueret, 30 north-east of Lomages, and 55 south-east
of Moulins. E. Long. 1. 52. N. Lat. 49. 5.
AHUYS, a town of Gothland in Sweden. It is
small, but very strong by its situation, and has a good
port. It is in the principality of Gothland, in the ter¬
ritory of Bleckingy, near the Baltic sea, about 18
miles from Christianstadt. E. Long. 14. 10. N. Lat.
j6. 20..
A I, in Ancient Geography, a town in Judea, to the
north of Jericho, called by Josephus, and the in¬
habitants Amatce. Joshua having sent a detachment of
3000 men against Ai, God permitted them to be re¬
pulsed on account of Achan’s sin, who had violated the
anathema pronounced against the city of Jericho. But
after the expiation of this offence, God commanded
Joshua (chap, viii.) to march with the whole army of
the Israelites against Ai, and treat this city and the
kingdom thereof as he had treated Jericho, with this
difference, that he gave the plunder of the town to the
people. Joshua sent by night 30,000 men to lie in
ambush behind Ai; having first well instructed those
Vol. I. Part II. f
A J A
the command of them in what they were to
do ; and the next day, early in the morning, he marched
against the city with the remainder of his army. The
king of Ai, perceiving them, sallied hastily out of the
town with all his people, and fell upon the forces of the
Israelites, who, upon the first onset, fled, as if they had
been under some great terror.
As soon as Joshua saw the enemy all out of the
gates, he raised his shield upon the top of a pike, which
was the signal given to the ambuscade 5 whereupon
they immediately entered the place, which they found
without defence, and set fire to it. The people of Ai
perceiving the smoke ascending, were willing to re¬
turn, but discovered those who had set fire to&the city
in their rear, while Joshua and those who were with
him turning about, fell upon them, and cut them in
pieces. The king was taken alive, and afterwards put
to death.
The chevalier Folard observes, that Joshua’s enter¬
prise on Ai, excepting in some particulars of military
ai t, is very like that of Gibeah, which is scarcely anv
thing more than a copy of it. It would appear, says
that writer, by the Scripture account, that Joshua was
not the author of the stratagem made use of by him :
for when God directs himself to Joshua, he says, “ Go
up against Ai; lay an ambuscade behind the town j I
have delivered the king and the people of it into thine
hands yet notwithstanding this, God might leave the
whole glory of the invention and execution of it to
him, as to a great general. “ Joshua arose, (says the
sacred author), and all the people of war, to go up
against Ai (verse 3.) 5 and Joshua chose out 30,000
mighty men of valour, and sent them away by night.”
At
11
Ajan.
I olard remarks, that there is a manifest contradiction
between this verse and the 12th, wherein it is said
that Joshua chose out 500 men, whom he sent to lie in
ambush, between Bethel and Ai. How is this to be
reconciled ? Calmet says, that Masius allows but 5000
men for the ambuscade, and 25,000 for the attack of
the city, being persuaded that an army of 60,000 men
could only create confusion on this occasion, without
any necessity for, or advantage in, such numbers ; but
the generality of interpreters, continues Calmet, ac¬
knowledge two bodies to be placed in ambuscade, both
between Bethel and Ai j one of 25,000 and the other
of 5000 men.
With regard to the signal Joshua made to that part of
his army which lay in ambuscade, the learned Folard
embraces the opinion of the Rabbins, who believe what
is called the shield to be too small to serve for a signal:
hence they make it to be the staff of one of their colours;
from this, our author concludes, that the whole colours
were used on this occasion ; for in the Asiatic style,
which is very near the poetic, a part is oftentimes to
be taken for the whole.
.AJALON, in Ancient Geography, a town of the
tribe of Dan, one of the Levitical. Another in the
tribe of Benjamin, in whose valley Joshua commanded
the moon to stand still, being then in her decrease, and
consequently to be seen at the same time with the sun.
AJAN, a coast and country of Africa, has the ri¬
ver Quilmanci on the south; the mountains from which
the river springs, on the west; Abyssinia, or Ethio¬
pia, and the strait of Babelmandel, on the north;
and the Eastern or Indian ocean, on the east. The
3 Z coast
A I C [ 546 ] A I G
Ajan coast abounds with all necessaries of life, and has plenty
II of very good horses. The kings of Ajan are often at
Aickstat. war w;th the emperor of the Abyssins; and all the pri-
sorlers they take they tell to the merchants of Cambaya,
those of Aden, and other Arabs, who come to trade in
their harbours, and give them in exchange, coloured
cloths, glass-beads, raisins, and dates j for which they
also take back, besides slaves, gold and ivory. The
whole sea coast, from Zanguebar to the strait ot Babel-
mandel, is called the coast of Ajan j and a considerable
part of it is styled the Desert coast.
AJAX, the son of Oileus, was one of the principal
generals who went to the siege of Troy. He ravished
Cassandra the daughter of Priam, even in the temple
of Minerva, where she thought to have found sanctuary.
It is said, he made a serpent of 15 feet long so familiar
with him, that it ate at his table, and followed him like
a dog. The Locrians had a singular veneration for his
memory.
Ajax, the son of Telamon, was, next to Achilles,
the most valiant general among the Greeks at the siege
of Troy. He commanded the troops of Salamis, and
performed many great actions, of which we have an ac¬
count in the Iliad, in Dictys Crctensis, and in the 23d
book of Ovid’s Metamorphoses. He was so enraged,
that the arms of Achilles were adjudged to Ulysses, that
he immediately became mad. The Greeks paid great
honour to him after his death, and erected a magnifi¬
cent monument to his memory upon the promontory of
Rhetium. >
Ajax, in antiquity, a furious kind, of dance, in use
among the Grecians j intended to represent the mad¬
ness of that hero after his defeat by Ulysses, to whom
the Greeks had given the preference in his contest for
Achilles’s arms. Lucian, in his treatise of Dancing,
speaks of dancing the djax.—There was also an annual
feast called Ajantia, Atxtlsiae, consecrated to that prince,
and observed with great solemnity in the island of Sa¬
lamis, as well as in Attica $ where, in memory of the
valour of Ajax, a bier was exposed, set out with a com¬
plete set of armour.
AJAZZO, or Ajaccio, a sea-port of the island of
Corsica, in the Mediterranean, and now the chief town
of the island. It is situated in a fertile territory, which
produces excellent wines. It has a small citadel, and
an excellent harbour. The number of inhabitants in
1815 was 68455 many of them are Greeks. It has
some trade in timber, &c. and is remarkable for being
the birth-place of Napoleon Bonaparte. E. Long. 8.
50. N. Lat. 41. 50.
Ajazzo, a sea-port town of Natolia, in the province
of Caramania, anciently Cilicia, seated on the coast of
the Mediterranean, 30 miles north of Antioch and 50
west of Aleppo, where the city of Issus anciently stood,
and near which Alexander fought his second battle with
Darius. E. Long. 36. 10. N. Lat. 37. o.
AICHSTAT, a town of Germany, in Franconia,
and capital of a bishopric of the same name. It is re¬
markable for a curious piece of workmanship, called
the Sun of the Holy Sacrament, which is in the church.
It is of massy gold, of great weight 5 and is enriched
with 350 diamonds, 1400 pearls, 250 rubies, and other
precious stones. This place is moderately large, and
seated in a valley on the river Altmul, 10 miles north
3
of Nienburg, and 37 south of Nuremberg. E. Long. Alelaut
II. 10. N. Lat. 49. O. The bishopric is 45 miles in f|
length and 17 in breadth 5 and the bishop is chancellor A|gle*
of the church of Mayence or Mentz. —v-—-
AID, in a general sense, denotes any kind of assist¬
ance given by one person to another.
Aid, in Law, denotes a petition made in court to call
in help from another person who has interest in land, or
any thing contested.
AiD-de-Camp, in military affairs, an officer employed
to receive and carry the orders of a general.
Aid, Auxiltum, in ancient customs, a subsidy paid by
vassals to their lords on certain occasions. Such were
the aid of relief, paid upon the death of the lord mesne
to his heir j the aid cheval, or capital aid, due to the
chief lord on several occasions, as, to make his elder son
a knight, to make up a portion for marrying his daugh¬
ter, &.c.
AIDS, in the French customs, were certain duties,
paid on all goods exported or imported into that king¬
dom.
Court of Aids, in France, a sovereign court former¬
ly established in several cities, which had cognizance
of all causes relating to the taxes, gabelles, and aids, im¬
posed on several sorts of commodities, especially wine.
Aids, in the manege, are the same with what some
writers call cherishings, and used to avoid the necessity
of corrections.—The inner heel, inner leg, inner rein,
&c. are called inner aids ; as the outer heel, outer leg,
outer rein, &c. are called outer aids.
A ID AN, a famous Scottish bishop of Lindisfarne,
or Holy Island, in the 7th century, was employed by
Oswald king of Northumberland in the conversion of
the English, in which he was very successful. He was
a monk in the monastery of Jona, one of the Hebrides,
He died in 651.
AIGHENDALE, the name of a liquid measure
used in Lancashire, containing seven quarts.
AIGLE, a bailiwick in the territory of Romand
in Switzerland, consists of mountains and valleys, the
principal of which are the Aigle and Bex. Through
these is the great road from \'alais into Italy. When
you pass by Villeneuve, which is at the head of the
lake of Geneva, you enter into a deep valley three miles
wide, bordered on one side with the Alps of Switzer¬
land, on the other side with those of Savoy, and crossed
by the river Rhone. Six miles from thence you meet
with Aigle, a town containing 2500 inhabitants, seated
in a wide part of the valley, where there are vineyards,,
fields, and meadows. The governor’s castle is on an
eminence that overlooks the town, and has a lofty
marble tower. This government has nine large parishes;
and is divided into four parts, Aigle, Bex, Olon, and
Ormont. This last is among the mountains, and joins
to Rougemont. It is a double valley, abounding in pas¬
ture-lands. Ivorna, in the district of Aigle, was in
part buried by the fall of a mountain, occasioned by an
earthquake, in 1584.
Aigle, a small town of France, in Upper Norman¬
dy, 23 miles from D’Evereux, and 38 from Rouen, in
the department of Orne. It is surrounded with walls
and ditches, and has six gates, three suburbs and three
parishes. It trades in corn, toys, and more particularly
in needles and pins. E. Long. o. 46. N. Lat. 48.. 46.
A1GUILLON,
AIL t 54-7 ] AIL
Amnion AIGUILLON, a small town of France, in the pro-
° |1 vince of Guienne, and department of Garonne and Lot,
Allan a. wijic|j |)a3 a considerable trade in wines, brandy, and
hemp. E. Long. o. 22. N. Lat. 44. 45.
AIGUISCE, in Heraldry^ denotes a cross with its
four ends sharpened, but so as to terminate in obtuse
angles. It differs from the cross fitchee, in as much as
the latter tapers by degrees to a point, and the former
only at the ends.
AIKMAN, William, a painter of considerable
eminence, was born in Scotland, October 24. 1682.
He was the son of William Aikman, Esq. of Cairney,
and was intended by his father to follow his own pro¬
fession, which was that of an advocate at the Scotch
bar. But the genius of the son led him to other stu¬
dies. He devoted himself to the fine arts, especially
that of painting, and having for some time prosecuted
his studies in Britain, in the year 1707 he went to
Italy, resided in Rome for three years, afterwards tra¬
velled to Constantinople and Smyrna, and in 1712 re¬
turned to his own country. About the year 1723 he
fixed his residence in London, where he followed the
profession of painting, and had the good fortune to be
patronised by the duke of Argyle, the earl of Burling¬
ton, Sir Godfrey Kneller, and other liberal encouragers
of the arts. He painted many portraits of persons of
the first rank in England and Scotland j and a large
picture of the royal family for the earl of Burlington,
now in the possession of the duke of Devonshire, which
was unfinished at his death. Some of his portraits
painted in Scotland are in the possession of the duke of
Argyle, the duke of Hamilton and others. Mr Aik¬
man died in London, June 4. 1731. Six months pre¬
vious to his death he had lost a son at the age of 17.
The remains of both were removed to Edinburgh, and
were interred in the Grayfriars churchyard on the same,
day. Mr Somerville, the author of the Chace, Mr Mal¬
let, Mr Allan Ramsay the Scottish poet, and Mr Thom¬
son, were among Mr Aikman’s intimate acquaintance $
and the muse of each, in elegiac numbers, offered a
warm tribute to the memory of their departed friend.
The following epitaph from the pen of Mr Mallet, was
engraved on his tomb :
Dear to the good and wise, disprais’d by none,
Here sleep in peace the father and the son j
By virtue as by nature close ally’d,
The painter’s genius, but without the pride :
Worth unambitious, wit afraid to shine,
Honour’s clear light, and friendship’s warmth divine:
The son fair rising knew too short a datej
But, oh ! how more severe the father’s fate !
He saw him torn untimely from his side,
Felt all a father’s anguish—wept and died.
Mr Aikman’s stile of painting was an imitation of
the pleasing simplicity of nature. It is distinguished
by softness of light, mellowness of shade, and mildness
and harmony of colouring. His compositions have
more placid tranquillity of ease, than boldness of touch
and brilliancy of effect. His portraits are supposed to
have some resemblance to those of Kneller, and not on¬
ly in the imitation of the dresses of the time, but in
the similarity of tint and manner of working.
AILANA, Ailath, or Aheloth, anciently a
town of Arabia Petraca, situated near the Sinus Ela-
nites of the Red sea. It was also called Eliath, and Allan*
Eloth (Stephanus, Strabo, Moses). The same with 11
Elana. , Alliia-
AILANTHUS, in Botany. See Botany Index.
AILE, in Law, a writ which lies where a person’s
grandfather, or great-grandfather, being seised of lands,
&c. in fee-simple, the day that he died, and a stranger
abates and enters the same day, and dispossesses the
heir of his inheritance.
AILESBURY, or Aylesbury, a borough town in
Buckinghamshire, containing with the parish 3447 in¬
habitants in 1810. In the middle of the market-place
is a convenient hall, where the sessions are held. It
sends two members to parliament; but being convicted
of corruption in 1804, the right of voting was extended
to the neighbouring hundreds. W. Long. o. 40. N.
Lat. 51. 40.
AILMER, or ^thelmare, earl of Cornwall and
Devonshire, in the reign of King Edgar. It is not
known of what family he was. His authority and
riches were great, and so also in appearance was his
piety. He founded the abbey of Cernel, in Dorset¬
shire ; and had so great a veneration for Eadwald, the
brother of St Edmund the Martyr, who had lived a
hermit in that country, near the Silver Well, as they
called it, that, with the assistance of Archbishop Dun-
stan, he translated his relics to the old church of
Cernel. In 1016, when Canute, the son of Sueno, in¬
vaded England, and found himself stoutly opposed by
that valiant Saxon prince Edmund Ironside, the son
of ^Ethelred, this Earl Ailmer, with that arch traitor
Eadric Streone, earl of Mercia, and Earl Algar, join¬
ed the Dane against their natural prince, which was
one great cause of the Saxons ruin. He did not long
survive this j and we find mentioned in history only one
son of his, whose name was iEthelward, earl of Corn¬
wall, who followed his father’s maxims, and was pro¬
perly rewarded for it. For in 1018, Canute reaping
the benefit of their treasons, and perceiving that the
traitors were no longer useful, he caused the infamous
Eadric Streone, and this Earl iEthelward, to be both
put to death.
AILRED, or Ealred, abbot of Revesby in Lin¬
colnshire, in the reigns of Stephen and Henry II. He
was born in 1109, of a noble family, and educated in
Scotland with Henry the son of King David. On his
return to England, he became a monk of the Cistertian
order, in the monastery of Revesby, of which he after¬
wards was made abbot. He died on the 12th of Ja¬
nuary 1166, aged 57, and was buried in his monastery.
“ He was (says Leland) in great esteem during his
life ; celebrated for the miracles wrought after his
death ; and admitted into the catalogue of saints.” He
was author of several works j most of which were pub¬
lished by Gilbo the Jesuit at Douay, 1631*, part of
them may be also found in the Bibliotheca Cistertiensis,
and Bibliotheca Patrum. His principal work is the
Speculum Charitatis. Leland, Bale, and Pits, mention
several manuscripts which never were published.
AILS A, an insulated rock on the western coast of
Scotland, between the shores of Ayrshire and Cantire.
It is two miles in circumference at the base, is acces¬
sible only at one place, and rises in a pyramidical
form to the height of 940 feet. A few goats and rab¬
bits pick up a subsistence among the short grass and
3 Z 2 furze ;
AIR [ 548 1 AIR
furze 5 but it is frequented by immense numbers of
solan geese, and other birds, which are valued for their
flesh or feathers. The depth of water around the base
is from 7 to 48 fathoms. On one part of the rock are
the remains of an old castle, which is said to have been
erected by Philip II. of Spain, about the time that the
Spanish armada invaded Britain.
AIN, a department in the south-east of France, ad¬
joining to Switzerland. The surface is rocky and
mountainous, and affords scarcely one-third of arable land.
They raise many cattle, and have a few trifling manu¬
factures. The territorial extent of this department is
289 square leagues, or 549,905 hectares. The popula¬
tion in 1817 was 322,608. Bourg is the chief town.
AINSWORTH, Dr Henry, an eminent noncon¬
formist divine, who, about the year 1590, distinguish¬
ed himself among the Brownists; which drew upon
him such troubles that he was obliged to retire to Hol¬
land, and became minister of a church at Amsterdam.
His skill in the Hebrew language, and his excellent
Annotations on the Holy Scriptures, which are still
highly esteemed, gained him great reputation. He also
wrote several pieces in defence of the Brownists, and
several other works.
Ainsworth, Robert, born at Woodyale in Danca-
shire in 1660, was master of a boarding school at Beth¬
nal green, from whence he removed to Hackney, and
to other places in the neighbourhood of London. Af¬
ter acquiring a moderate fortune, he retired, and lived
privately to the time of his death, which happened in
1743. We are indebted to his industry for a Latin
and English Dictionary, which has been much used in
schools : he published it in quarto 1736 ; and in 1752,
the fourth edition, under the care of Dr Ward of
Gresham College, and the Rev. William Younge, was
enlarged to two vols. folio.
AIR, in Physic.<}. See Atmosphere, Meteoro¬
logy, and Pneumatics.
Air, in Mythology, was adored by the Heathens
under the names of Jupiter and Juno the former repre¬
senting the superior and finer part of the atmosphere,
and the latter the inferior and grosser part. The au¬
gurs also drew presages from the clouds, thunder, &c.
Air, in Painting, &c. denotes the manner and very
life of action } or it is that which expresses the disposi¬
tion of the agent.—It is sometimes also used in a syno¬
nymous sense with gesture or attitude.
Air, in Music, is taken in different senses. It is
sometimes contrasted with harmony ; and in this sense,
it is synonymous with melody in general.—Its proper
meaning is, A tune, which is set to words, or to short
pieces of poetry that are called songs.
In operas, we give the name of air to such pieces of
music as are formed with measures and cadences, to di¬
stinguish it from the recitative ; and, in general, every
piece of music is called an air, which is formed for the
voice, or even for instruments, and adapted to stanzas,
whether it forms a whole in itself, or whether it can be
detached from any whole of which it forms a part, and
be executed alone.
If the subject admits of harmony, and is set in parts,
the air is, according to their number, denominated a
duett, a trio, a quartetto, &c. We need not follow
Rousseau, and the other philologists, in their endeavours
to investigate the etymon of the word air. Its deriva¬
tion, though found and ascertained, would contribute
little to illustrate its meaning in that remote sense, to
which, through a long continuance of time, and the
various vicissitudes of language, it has now passed. The
curious may consult the same article in the Dictionaire
de Musique by M. Rousseau.
In modern music, there are several different kinds of
airs, each of which agrees to a certain kind of dancing 5
and from these dances the airs themselves take their
specific names.
The airs of our operas are, if we may be permitted
the expression, the canvas or substratum upon which
are painted all the pictures of imitative music j melody
is the design, and harmony the colouring 5 every pictu¬
resque object selected from the most beautiful parts of
nature, every reflected sentiment of the human heart,
are the models which the artist imitates j whatever
gains attention, whatever interests the soul, whatever
charms the ear, or causes emotion in the heart, these
are the objects of his imitation. An air which delights
the ear, and discovers the learning of the composer j
an air invented by genius, and composed with taste ;
is the noblest effort of music : it is this which explores
the compass, and displays the delicacy, of a beautiful
voice ; it is in this where the charms of a well conduc¬
ted symphony shine; it is by this, that the passions, ex¬
cited and inflamed by nice gradations, reach and agi¬
tate the soul through the avenues of external sense.
After hearing a beautiful air, the mind is acquiescent
and serene : the ear is satisfied, not disgusted 5 it re¬
mains impressed on the fancy, it becomes a part of our
essence, we carry it with us, we are able to repeat it
at pleasure : without the ability acquired by habit to
breathe a single note of it, we execute it in our imagi¬
nation in the same manner as ive heard it upon the
theatre : one sees the scene, the actor, the theatre ;
one hears the accompaniments and the applauses. The
real enthusiast in music never forgets the beautiful airs
which he has heard j when he chooses, he causes the
opera to recommence.
The words to which airs are adapted are not always
rehearsed in regular succession, nor spoken in the same
manner with those of the recitative ; and though, in
general, they are very short, yet they are interrupted,
repeated, transposed, at the pleasure of the artist. They
do not constitute a narrative, which once told is over;
they either delineate a picture, which it is necessary to
contemplate in different points of view ; or inspire a sen¬
timent in which the heart acquiesces with pleasure, and
from which it is neither able nor willing to be disen¬
gaged ; and the different phrases of the air, are nothing
else but different manners of beholding the same image.
This is the reason why the subject of an air should be
one. It is by these repetitions properly placed, it is
by these redoubled efforts, that an impression, which at
first was not able to move you, at length shakes your
soul, agitates you, transports you out of yourself: and
it is likewise upon the same principle, that the runnings,
as they are called, or those long, mazy, and inartieu-
lated inflections of the voice, in pathetic airs, fre¬
quently seem, though they are not always so, impro¬
perly placed : for whilst the heart is affected with a sen¬
timent exquisitely moving, it often expresses its emo¬
tions by inarticulate sounds, more strongly and sensibly
than it could do by words themselves.
The
AIR
Air The form of cm's is of two kinds. The small airs
|| are often composed of two strains, w'hich ought each of
them to be sung twice •, but the important airs in ope-
ras are frequently in the form of rondeaus.
Air, in Geography. See Ayr.
Am-Bladder, in fishes. See Comparative Ana¬
tomy and Ichthyology Index.
Am-Gun, a pneumatic machine for exploding bul¬
lets, &c. with great violence. See Pneumatics.
Air-Jacket, a sort of jacket made of leather, in
which are several bags, or bladders, composed of the
same materials, communicating with each other. These
are filled with air through a leather tube, having a brass
stop-cock accurately ground at the extremity, by which
means the air blown in through the tube is confined in
the bladders. The jacket must be wet before the air
be blown into the bags, as otherwise it will immediate¬
ly escape through the pores of the leather. By the
help of these bladders, which are placed near the breast,
the person is supported in the water, without making
the efforts used in swimming.
Air-Pipes, an invention for drawing foul air out of
ships, or any other close places, by means of fire.
These pipes were first found out by one Mr Sutton, a
brewer in London ; and from him have got the name
of Sutton's Air-Pipes. The principle on which their
operation depends is known to every body, being, in¬
deed no other than that air is necessary for the support
of fire j and, if it has not access from the places most
adjacent, will not fail to come from those that are more
remote. Thus, in a common furnace, the air enters
through the ash-hole j but if this is closed up, and a
hole made in the side of the furnace, the air will rush
in with great violence through that hole. If a tube of
any length whatever be inserted in this hole, the air
will rush through the tube into the fire, and of conse¬
quence there will be a continual circulation of air in
that place where the extremity of the tube is laid. Mr
Sutton’s contrivance, then, as communicated to the
.Royal Society by Doctor Mead, amounts to no more
than this : “ As, in every ship of any bulk, there is
already provided a copper or boiling place proportion-
able to the size of the vessel $ it is proposed to clear
the bad air, by means of the fire already used under the
said coppers or boiling places for the necessary uses of
the ship.
“ It is well known, that under every such copper or
boiler, there are placed two holes, separated by a grate $
the first of which is for the fire, and the other for the
ashes falling from the same and that there is also a
flue from the fire-place upward, by which the smoke of
the fire is discharged at some convenient place of the
ship.
“ It is also well known, that the fire once lighted in
these fire-places, is only preserved by the constant
draught of air through the fore-mentioned two holes
and flue ; and that if the said two holes are closely
stopped up, the fire, though burning ever so briskly be¬
fore, is immediately put out.
“ But if, after shutting up the above mentioned holes,
another hole be opened, communicating with any
other room or airy place, and with the fire •, it is clear
the said fire must again be raised and burn as before,
there being a light draught of air through the same as
there, was. before, the stopping up of the first holes j
A I B
this case differing only from the former in this, that the Air-Pipes,
air feeding the fire will now be supplied from another *■■■■'■ y- >
place.
“ It is therefore proposed, that, in order to clear the
ho ds of ships of the bad air therein contained, the two
mles above mentioned, the fire-place and ash-place, be
both closed up with substantial and tight iron doors ;
and that a copper or leaden pipe, of sufficient size, be
laid from the hold into the ash-place, for the draught
of air to come in that way to feed the fire. And thus
it seems plain, from what has been already said, that
there will be? from the hold, a constant discharge of
the air therein contained 5 and consequently, that that
air, so discharged, must be as constantly supplied by
fresh air down the hatches or such other communica¬
tions as are opened into the hold y whereby the same
must be continually freshened, and its air rendered more
wholesome and fit for respiration.
“ And if into this principal pipe so laid into the hold,
other pipes are let in, communicating respectively ei¬
ther with the well or lower decks $ it must follow1, that
part of the air consumed in feeding the fire, must be
respectively drawn out of all such places to which the
communication shall be so made.”
I his account is so plain, that no doubt can remain
concerning the efficacy of the contrivance : it is evi¬
dent, that, by means of pipes of this kind, a constant
circulation of fresh air wmuld be occasioned through
those places where it would otherwise be most apt to
stagnate and putrefy. Several other contrivances have
been used for the same purpose ; and Dr Hales’s ven¬
tilators, by some unaccountable prejudice, have been
reckoned superior in efficacy and even simplicity to Mr
Sutton’s machine, which at its first invention met with
great opposition, and even when introduced by Dr
Mead, who used all his interest for that purpose, was
shamefully neglected.
A machine capable of answering the same purpose
was invented by Mr Desaguliers, which he called the
ship's lungs. It consisted of a cylindrical box set up
on its edge, and fixed to a wooden pedestal. From
the upper edge of the box issued a square trunk, open
at the end, and communicating with the cavity of the
box. Within this box was placed a cylindrical wheel
turning on an axis. It was divided into 12 parts by
means of partitions placed like the radii of a circle.
These partitions did not extend quite to the centre,
but left an open space of about 18 inches diameter in
the middle ; towards the circumference, they extended
as far as possible without interfering with the case, so
that the wheel might always be allowed to turn freely.
Things being thus circumstanced, it is plain, that if
the wheel was turned towards that side of the box on
which the trunk was, every division would push the
air before it, and drive it out through the trunk, at the
same time that fresh air would come in through the open
space at the centre, to supply that which was thrown
out through the trunk. By turning the wheel swiftly,
a strong blast of air wTould be continually forced out
through the square trunk, on the same principles on
which a common fanner winnows corn. If the wheel
is turned the opposite way, a draught of air may be
produced from the trunk to the centre. If this ma¬
chine, then, is placed in a room where a circulation of "
air is wanted, and the trunk made to pass through one
of; /
[ 549 ]
Air-
Threa
A I R
An Purao of the walls j by turning the wheel swiftly round, the
air will be forced with great velocity out ot that room
Aii-Sliafls; at the same time that fresh air will enter through any
     chinks by which it can have access to supply that which
has been forced out.
It is evident, that the circulation which is promoted
by this machine is entirely of the same kind with that
produced by Mr Sutton’s $ the turning of the wheel in
Mr Desagulier’s machine being equivalent to the rare¬
faction of the air by fire in Mr Sutton’s: but that the
latter is vastly superior, as acting of itself, and without
intermission, requires no arguments to prove. Mr Sut¬
ton’s machine has yet another conveniency, of which
no other contrivance for the same purpose can boast j
namely, that it not only draws out putrid air, but de¬
stroys it by causing it pass through fire j and experience
has abundantly shown, that though putrid air is thrown
into a great quantity of fresh air, it is so far from losing
its pernicious properties, that it often produces noxious
diseases. We do not say, indeed, that putrid air be¬
comes salutary by this means; but it is undoubtedly
rendered less noxious than before; though whether it
is equally innocent with the smoke of a fire fed in the
common way, we cannot pretend to determine.
Besides this machine by Mr Desaguliers, the venti¬
lators of Dr Hales, already mentioned, ^ind those called
•wind-sails^ are likewise used for the same purpose.
The former of which is an improvement of the Hessian
bellows : the other is a contrivance for throwing fresh
air into those places where putrid air is apt to lodge ;
but this has the last mentioned inconvenience in a
much greater degree than any of the others, as the
blast of fresh air throws out that which was rendered
putrid by stagnation, in such a manner as to contami¬
nate all around it.
Am-Pump, a machine by which the air contained in
a proper vessel may be exhausted or drawn out. See
Pneumatics.
Air-Sacs, in Birds. See Comparative Anatomy.
Am-Shafts, among Miners, denote holes or shafts let
down from the open air to meet the adits and furnish
fresh air. The damps, deficiency, and impurity of air
which occur, when adits are wrought 30 or 40 fathoms
long, make it necessary to let down air-shafts, in order
to give the air liberty to play through the whole work,
and thus discharge bad vapours, and furnish good air
for respiration : the eypence of which shafts, in regard
of their vast depths, hardness of the rock, drawing of
water, 8tc. sometimes equals, nay exceeds, the ordinary
charge of the whole adit.
Sir Robert Murray describes a method, used in the
coal mines at Liege, of working mines without air-
shafts.
"When the miners at Mendip have sunk a groove,
they will not be at the charge of an air-shaft till they
come at ore ; and for the supply of air have boxes of
elm exactly closed, of about six inches in the clear, by
which they carry it down about twenty fathoms. They
cut a treqch at a little distance from the top of the
groove, covering it with turf and rods disposed to re¬
ceive the pipe, which they contrive to come in sideways
to their groove, four feet from the top, which carries
down the air to a great depth. When they come at
ope, and need an air-shaft, they sink it four or five fa¬
thoms distant, according to tljie convenience of the
A I R
breadth, and of the same fashion with the groove, to
draw ore as well as air.
AiR-Threads, in Natural History, a name given to
the long filaments, so frequently seen in autumn floating t
about in the air.
These threads are the work of spiders, especially of
that species called the long-legged field-spider ; which
having mounted to the summit of a bush or tree, darts
from its tail several of these threads, till one is produced
capable of supporting the creature in the air: on this it
mounts in quest of prey, and frequently rises to a very
considerable height. See Aranea.
AiR-Trunk, is also a contrivance by Dr Hales, to
prevent the stagnation of putrid effluvia in jails and
other places, where a great number of people are crowd¬
ed together in a smalt space. It consists only of a long
square trunk open at both ends; one of which is inserted
into the ceiling of the room, the air of which is re¬
quired to be kept pure; and the other extends a good
way beyond the roof. Through this trunk a conti¬
nued circulation is carried on : and the reason is, that
the putrid effluvia which do so much mischief when col¬
lected, being much lighter than the pure atmosphere,
arise to the top of the room ; and, if they there find a
vent, will continually go out through it. These efflu¬
via arise in very considerable quantity, being calculated
by the late Dr Keil at no less than 39 ounces from one
man in 24 hours.
These trunks were first made trial of by Mr Yeoman,
over the House of Commons, where they were nine in¬
ches wide within; and over the Court of King’s Bench
in Westminster-hall, where they were six inches wide.
They are sometimes made wider, and sometimes nar¬
rower : but the wider they are the longer they ought
to be, more effectually to promote the ascent of the va¬
pour. The reason why vapours of this kind ascend
more swift through a long trunk than a short one, is,
that the pressure of fluids is always according to their
different depth, without regard to the diameter of their
basis, or of the vessel which contains them ; and, upon
this principle, a gallon of water may be made to split
a strong cask. See Hydrostatics. When the co¬
lumn of putrid effluvia is long and narrow, the differ¬
ence between the column of atmosphere pressing on the
upper end of the trunk, and that which presses on the
lower end, is much greater than if the column of pu¬
trid effluvia was short and wide ; and consequently the
ascent is much swifter.—One pan of a single pair of
scales ; which was two inches in diameter, being held
within one of these trunks over the House of Commons,
the force of the ascending air made it rise so as to re¬
quire four grains to restore the equilibrium, and this
when there was no person in the house; but when it
was full, no less than 12 grains were requisite to re¬
store the equilibrium; which clearly shows that these
trunks must be of real and very great efficacy.
AlR-Pessels, are spiral ducts in the Laves, &c. of
plants, supposed to be analogous to the lungs of ani¬
mals, in supplying the different parts of a plant with
air. See Botany Index.
AIR A, in Botawy, Hair-grass. See Botany Index.
AIRANI, in Church History, an obscure sect of A-
rians in the fourth century, who denied the consubstan-
tiality of the Holy Ghost with the Father and the Son.
They are otherwise called ; and are said to
have
[ 55° 3
AIT [55i] A I U
Urani have taken tkeir name from one Airos, who tlistinguish-
|| ed himself at the head of this party, in the reigns of
A.iton. Valentinian and Gratian.
AIRE, in Geography, an ancient town of France,
in the department of Landes, formerly Gascony, con¬
taining 3000 inhabitants. It is seated on the river
Adonr, on the declivity of a mountain, 155 leagues
from Paris. W. Long. o. 12. N. Lat. 43. 42.
AlRE, a strong town in the Netherlands, in the
county of Artois, now the department of Pas de Calais,
with a castle. It is seated on the river Lis, 22 miles
south of Dunkirk, and communicates with St Omer’s
by a canal cut from the river Aa. E. Long. 2. 31.
N. Lat. 50. 38.
AIRING, a term peculiarly used for the exercising
horses in the open air. It purifies the blood } purges the
body from gross humours; and, as the jockies express
it, teaches the horse how to make the wind rake equally,
and keep time with the other motions of his body. It
also sharpens the stomach, and keeps the creature hun¬
gry ; which is a thing of great consequence, as hunters
and racers are very apt to have their stomach fall o(F,
either from want of exercise, or from the too violent
exercise which they are often exposed to. If the horse
be over fat, it is best to air him before sunrise and
after sunsetting; and in general, it is allowed by all,
that nothing is more beneficial to those creatures than
early and late airings. Some of our modern manegers,
however dispute this ; they say, that the cold of these
times is too great for the creature ; and that if, in par¬
ticular, he is subject to catarrhs, rheums, or the like
complaints, the dews and cold fogs, in these early and
late airings, will be apt to increase all those disorders.
Nature, we see, also points out the sun-beams as of
great use to these animals ; those which are kept hardy
and lie out all night, always running to those places
where the sunshine comes, as soon as it appears in a
morning. This should seem to recommend those airings
that are to be made before sunset, and a little time
after sunrise. As to the caution, so earnestly incul¬
cated by Markham, of using these early and late air¬
ings for fat horses, it is found unnecessary by many:
for they say, that the same effect may be produced by
airings at warmer times, provided only that they are
made longer; and that, in general, it is from long air¬
ings that we are to expect to bring a horse to a perfect
wind and sound courage.
AIRS, in the Manege, are the artificial motions of
taught horses ; as the demivolt, curvet, capriole, &c.
AIRY, or Aery, among Sportsmen, a term expres¬
sing the nest of a hawk or eagle.
Airy Triplicity, among Astrologers, denotes the three
signs, Gemini, Libra, and Aquarius.
AISNE, a department in the north of France, tak¬
ing its name from the river Aisne which flows through
it. The surface is uneven, but not hilly ; and it pro¬
duces corn of ail kinds, excellent flax, legumes, and wine
of a pretty good quality. There are manufactures of
woollens, linens, yarn, leather, &c. ; but the most con¬
siderable are those of cambric and lawn. Its extent is
379 square leagues, or 749,183 hectares ; and the po¬
pulation in 1817 was 432,989. Laon is the chief town.
AITOCZU, a considerable river of Lesser Asia,
which rises in Mount Taurus, and falls into the south
part of the Euxine sea.
All ON, William, an eminent botanist and gar¬
dener, was born at a village near Hamilton in Scot¬
land, in 1731. Having been regularly trained to the
profession of a gardener, he came into England in the
year I754> an^ soon obtained the notice of the cele¬
brated Philip Miller, then superintendent of the phy-
sie-garden at Chelsea, who engaged him as an assistant.
His industry and abilities recommended him to the
princess-dowager of Wales as a fit person to manage
the botanical garden at Kew. In 1759, he was ap¬
pointed to this office, in which he continued during
life, and which was the source of his fame and fortune.
The garden at Kew, under the auspices of his present
Majesty, was destined to be the grand repository of all
the vegetable riches which could be accumulated, by
regal munificence, from researches through every quar¬
ter of the globe. These treasures were fortunately
committed to the hands of Mr Aiton, whose care and
skill in their cultivation, and intelligence in their ar¬
rangement, acquired him high reputation among the
lovers of the science, and the particular esteem of his
royal patrons. Under his superintendence, many im¬
provements took place in the plan and edifices of Kew-
gardens, which rendered them the principal scene of
botanical culture in the kingdom. In 1783, his merit
was properly rewarded with the lucrative office of ma-
naging the pleasure and kitchen-gardens of Kew, whicR
he was allowed to retain with the botanical depart¬
ment. In 1789, he published his Hortus Kewensis;
or a Catalogue of the Plants cultivated in the Royal
Botanic Garden at Kew, in three vols. 8vo. with 13
plates ; a work which had been the labour of many
years. The number of species contained in this work
amounted to betw'een five and six thousand, many of
which had not before been described. A new and cu¬
rious article in it relates to the first introduction of par¬
ticular exotics into the English gardens. The system
of arrangement adopted is the Linnaean, with improve¬
ments, which the advanced state of botanical science
required. Mr Aiton with candour and modesty ac¬
knowledges the assistance he received in this work
from the two eminent Swedish naturalists, Dr Solander
and Mr Jonas Dryander. Indeed his character was
such as secured him the friendship and good offices of
the most distinguished names in science of his time.
He was for many years peculiarly honoured by the no¬
tice of Sir Joseph Banks, the president of the Royal
Society. The Hortus Kewensis was received with avi¬
dity by the botanic world, and a large impression was
soon disposed of.
Notwithstanding the singular activity and tempe¬
rance of Mr Aiton, he fell into that incurable malady,
a schirrous liver, of which he died in 1793, in his six¬
ty-second year. His eldest son, devoted to the same
pursuits, was, by the king’s own nomination, appointed
to all his father’s employments. Mr Alton’s private
character was highly estimable for mildness, benevo¬
lence, piety, and every domestic and social virtue. He
was interred in the churchyard of Kew, amidst a most
respectable concourse of friends. (Gen. Biog.')
AITONIA, in Botany. See Botaxy Index.
AJUGA, Bugle, in Botany. See Botany Index.
AIUS LOCUTIUS, the name of a deity to whom the
Romans erected an altar. The words are Latin, and
signify tf a speaking voice.” The following accident
gave
A I X [ 552 ] A I X
gave occasion to the Romans erecting an altar to
Aius Locutius. One M. Seditius, a plebeian, ac¬
quainted the tribunes, that, in walking the streets by
night, he had heard a voice over the temple of Vesta,
giving the Romans notice that the Gauls were coming
against them. The intimation was, however, ne¬
glected •, but after the truth was confirmed by the
event, Camillas acknowledged this voice to be a new
deity, and erected an altar to it under the name of
Aius Locutius.
AJUTAGE, or Adjutage, a kind of tube fitted
to the mouth of the vessel through 'tfhich the water of
a fountain is to be played. To the different form and
structure of ajutages is owing the great variety of
fountains.
AIX, a small but ancient town in the duchy of
Savoy, with the title of a marquisate. It is seated on
the lake Bourget, at the foot of a mountain, between
Chamberry, Annecy, and Rumilly. There is here a
triumphal arch of the ancient Romans, but it is almost
entirely ruined. The mineral waters bring a great
number of strangers to this place. The place was
originally called Aquce Gratiance, from the hot baths
built there by the emperor Gratian. E. Long. 5. 48.
N. Lat. 45. 40.
Aix, in Geography, an ancient city in the depart¬
ment of the Bouches du Rhone, formerly capital of
Provence, in France. This city has an air of silence
and gloom commonly characteristic of places destitute
of commerce or industry. It is, however, rvell-built j
and most like Paris of any place in the kingdom, as
well for the largeness of the buildings as in respect of
the politeness of the inhabitants. The population in
1817 was 27,000. It is embellished with abundance
of fine fountains, and several beautiful squares. The
Preachers square is on the side of a hill; it is about
160 yards in length, and is surrounded with trees, and
houses built with stone three stories high. The town-
hall is at one end of the city, and is distributed into
several fine apartments, formerly occupied by the
parliament and other public bodies. The hotel of the
city is a handsome building, but hid by the houses of
the narrow street in which it is placed. The cathedral
church is a Gothic structure, with tombs of several
earls of Provence, and some good pictures by French
masters. The Corse, or Orbitelle, is a magnificent
walk, above 300 yards long, formed by a triple avenue
of elms, and two rows of regular and stately houses.
Before the revolution, there was a great number of re¬
ligious houses here. It has manufactures of velvet,
and other silk stuffs, and some trade in oil, wine, bran¬
dy, wool, grain, silk, figs, raisins, &c. There are
other churches and buildings which contain a great
number of rarities. The baths without the city, which
were discovered not long since, have good buildings,
raised at a vast expence, for the accommodation of
those who drink the waters. Although Aix was the
first Roman settlement in Gaul, it is not remarkable
for ancient remains. The warm springs, from which
it is now known and frequented, induced Sextus Cal-
vinus to found a colony here, to which he gave the
name of Aquce Sextice. The waters are clear and
light, and without taste or smell. They were sup¬
posed to possess particular virtues in cases of debility $
and several altars have been dug up sacred to Priapus,
2
the inscriptions on which indicate their gratitude to ^
that deity for his supposed succour and assistance. E. Aix-la-
Long. 5. 32. N. Lat. 43. 32. ClmpelJe.
Aix, a small island on the coast of France, between 1
the isle of Oleron and the continent. It is 12 miles
north-west of Rochfort, and 11 south-south-west of Ro¬
chelle. W. Long. 1. 4. N. Lat. 46. 5.
Aix-la-chapelle, a fine city of Germany, in the
circle of Westphalia and duchy of Juliers, and capital
of the department of Roer.
All authors are agreed about its antiquity, it being
mentioned in Caesar’s Commentaries and the Annals
of Tacitus. The Romans had colonies and fortresses
there, when they were at war with the Germans; but
the mineral waters and the hot bath so increased its
fame, that, in process of time, it was advanced to the
privileges of a city, by the name of Aquaegranii, that
is, the waters of Granius j that which it has now, of
Aix-la-Chapelle, was given it by the French, to distin¬
guish it from the other Aix. It is so called, on ac¬
count of a chapel built in honour of the Holy Virgin
by Charlemagne $ who having repaired, beautified, and
enlarged the city, which was destroyed by the Huns
in the reign of Attila in 451, made it the usual place
of his residence. The town is seated in a valley sur¬
rounded with mountains and woods, and yet the air is
very wholesome. It may be divided into the inward
and outward city ; which together contained 27,164 in¬
habitants in 1807. The inward is encompassed with a
wall about three quarters of a league in circumference,
having ten gates; and the outward wall, in which
there are eleven gates, is about a league and a half in
circumference. There are rivulets which run through
the town and keep it very clean, turning several
mills $ besides 20 public fountains, and many private
ones. They have stone quarries in the neighbour¬
hood, which furnish the inhabitants with proper ma¬
terials for their magnificent buildings, of which the
stadt-house and the cathedral are the chief. There
are likewise 30 parochial or collegiate churches. The
market-place is very spacious, and the houses round it
are stately. In the middle, before the stadt-house, is
a fountain of blue stones, which throws out water,
from six pipes, into a marble bason placed beneath, 30
feet in circumference. On the top of this fountain is
placed the statue of Charlemagne, of gilt brass, hold¬
ing a sceptre in his right hand, and a globe in his left.
The stadt-house is adorned with the statues of all the
emperors since Charlemagne. This fabric has three
stories, the upper of which is one entire room of 160
feet in length and 60 in breadth. In this the new-
elected emperor formerly entertained all the electors of
the empire.
Aix-la-Chapelle was formerly a free imperial city,
but was taken possession of by the French in 17945-
in whose power it remained till 1815, when it was
transferred to Prussia. This place is famous for
several councils and treaties of peace concluded here j
particularly those between France and Spain in
1668, and between Great Britain and France in
i748.
The hot sulphureous waters for which this place has
so long been celebrated, arise from several sources,
which supply eight baths constructed in different parts
of the town. These waters near the sources are clear
and
A I X
C 553 ]
A K E
Ate-la- an,l pellucid : and have a strong sulphureous smell, re-
;hapelle. sembling the washings of a foul gun 5 but they lose
—* 1 this smell by exposure to air. Their taste is saline,
bitter, and urinous. They do not contain iron. They
are also neutral near the fountain, but afterwards are
manifestly and pretty strongly alkaline, insomuch that
clothes are washed with them without soap. On the
vaults above the springs and aqueducts of these waters
is found, every year, when they are opened, a quantity
of fine white-coloured flowers of sulphur, which has
been sublimed from the waters.
The heat of the water of the hottest spring, by Dr
Lucas’s account, raised the quicksilver of Fahrenheit’s
thermometer to 136°—by Mons. Monet’s account, to
146°—and the heat of the fountain, where they com¬
monly drink, by Dr Lucas’s account, to 1120
Dr Simmons has given the following account of their
several temperatures, as repeatedly observed by himself
W'ith a thermometer constructed by Nairne.
The spring which supplies the Emperor’s Bath
(Bain de PEmpereur), the New Bath (Bain
Neuf), and the Queen of Hungary’s Bath (Bain
de la Beine de Hongrie'), 1270
St Quirin’s Bath (Bam de St Quiriri), 112°
The Bose Bath (Bain de la Rose'), and the Poor’s
Bath (Bain des Pauvres), both of which are
supplied by the same spring, 112°
Charles’s Bath (Bain de Charles), and St Cor¬
neille’s Bath (Bain de St Corneille), 112°
The spring used for drinking is in the High Street,
opposite to Charles’s Bath j the heat of it at the
pump is io6°
Dr Lucas evaporated the water of the hottest spring
(of the Emperor’s Bath), and obtained 268 grains of
solid matter from a gallon, composed of 15 grains of
calcareous earth, 10 grains of selenites, and 243 grains
of a saline matter made of natron and sea-salt. They
are at first nauseous and harsh, but by habit become fa¬
miliar and agreeable. At first drinking also they ge¬
nerally affect the head. Their general operation is by
stool and urine, without griping or diminution of
strength j and they also promote perspiration.
The quantity to be drank as an alterative is to be
Varied according to the constitution and other circum¬
stances of the patient. In general, it is best to begin
with a quarter or half a pint in the morning, and in¬
crease the dose afterwards to a pint, as may be found
convenient. The water is best drank at the fountain.
When it is required to purge, it should be drank in
large and often repeated draughts.
In regard to bathing, this also must be determined
by the age, sex, strength, &c. of the patient, and by
the season. The degree of heat of the bath should like¬
wise be considered. The tepid ones are in general the
best, though there are some cases in which the hotter
ones are most proper. But, even in these, it is best
to begin with the temperate baths, and increase the heat
gradually.
These waters are efficacious in diseases proceeding
from indigestion and from foulness of the stomach and
bowels ; in rheumatisms j in the scurvy, scrophula, and
diseases of the skin ; in hysteric and hypochondriacal
disorders j in nervous complaints and melancholy 5 in the
stone and gravel j in paralytic complaints j in those evils
which follow an injudicious use of mercury j and in
VOL. I. Part II. f
many other cases. They ought not, however, to be Afc-Ia-
given in hectic cases where there is heat and fever, in Chapelle
putrid disorders, or where the blood is dissolved or the II
constitution much broken down. Akenside.
The. time of drinking, in the first season, is from the v
beginning of May to the middle of June ; and, in the
latter season, from the middle of August to the latter
end of September.
Ihere are galleries or piazzas under which the com¬
pany walk during the time of drinking, in order to
promote the operation of the waters.—The Poor’s Bath
is free for every body, and is frequented by crowds of
poor people.
It is scarcely necessary to add, that there are all
kinds of amusements common to other places of public
resort; but the sharpers appear mox*e splendid here than
elsewhere, assuming titles, with an equipage suitable to
them. A congress was held here in 1818, by the so¬
vereigns who kept an army in France after the late
peace. Aix-la-Chapelle is 21 miles from Spa, 36 from
Liege, and 30 from Cologne. E. Long. 5. 48. N. Lat.
51- 55-
AIZOON, in Botany. See Botany Index.
AKENSIDE, Mark, a physician, who published
in Latin “ A Treatise upon the Dysentery,” in 1764,
and a few pieces in the first volume of the “ Medical
Transactions” of the college of physicians, printed in
17685 but far better known, and to be distinguished
chiefly hereafter, as a poet. He was born at Newcastle-
upon-Tyne, November 9. 1721 5 and after being edu¬
cated at the grammar-school in Newcastle, was sent to
the universities of Edinburgh and Leyden 5 at which
last he took his degree of doctor in physic. He was af¬
terwards admitted by mandamus to the same degree at
Cambridge 5 elected a fellow of the college of physi¬
cians, and one of the physicians at St Thomas’s Ho¬
spital 5 and, upon the establishment of the queen’s house¬
hold, appointed one of the physicians to her Majesty.
That Dr Akenside was able to acquire no other kind
of celebrity than that of a scholar and a poet, is to be
accounted for by the following particulars in his life
and conduct, related by Sir John Hawkins.—Mr Dyson
and he were fellow-students, the one of law and the
other of physic, at Leyden 5 where, being of conge¬
nial tempers, a friendship commenced between them
that lasted through their lives. They left the univer¬
sity at the same time, and both settled at London: Mr
Dyson took to the bar, and being possessed of a hand¬
some fortune, supported his friend while he was endea¬
vouring to make himself known as a physician ; but in
a short time, having purchased of Mr Hardinge his
place of clerk of the house of commons, he quitted
Westminster-hall 5 and for the purpose of introducing
Akenside to acquaintance in an opulent neighbourhood
near the town, bought a house at North-End, Hamp¬
stead 5 where they dwelt together during the summer
season, frequenting the long-room, and all clubs and as¬
semblies of the inhabitants.
At these meetings, which, as they were not select,
must be supposed to have consisted of such persons as
usually meet for the purpose of gossiping, men of
wealth, but of ordinary endowments, and able to talk
of little else than news and the occurrences of the day,
Akenside was for displaying those talents which had
acquired him the reputation he enjoyed in other cam-
4 A panics;
A K E [ 554 1 ALA
Akenside. panies : but here they were of little use to him ; on the
i—v—' contrary, they tended to engage him in disputes that
betrayed him into a contempt of those that differed in
opinion from him. It was found out that he was a man
of low birth, and a dependent on Mr Dyson ; circum¬
stances that furnished those whom he offended with a
ground of reproach, which reduced him to the necessity
of asserting in terms that he was a gentleman.
Little could be done at Hampstead after matters had
proceeded to this extremity : Mr Dyson parted with
his villa at North-End, and settled his friend in a small
house in Bloomsbury-square 5 assigning for his support
such a part of his income as enabled him to keep a
chariot.—In this new situation Akenside used every
endeavour to become popular, but defeated them all
by the high opinion he everywhere manifested of him¬
self, and the little condescension he showed to men of
inferior endowments •, by his love of political contro¬
versy, his authoritative censure of the public councils,
and his peculiar notions respecting government. In the
winter evenings he frequented Tom’s coffee-house in
Devereux-court, then the resort of some of the most
eminent men for learning and ingenuity of the time j
with some of whom he was involved in disputes and al¬
tercations, chiefly on subjects of literature and politics,
which fixed on his character the stamp of haughtiness
and self-conceit. Hence many, who admix’ed him for
his genius and parts, were shy of his acquaintance.
The value of that precept which exhorts us to live
peaceably with all men, or, in other words, to avoid
creating enemies, can only be estimated by the reflec¬
tion on those many amiable qualities against which the
neglect of it will preponderate. Akenside was a man
of religion and strict virtue ; a philosopher, a scholar,
and a fine poet. His conversation was of the most de¬
lightful kind } learned, instructive, and, without any
affectation of wit, cheerful and entertaining.
Dr Akenside died of a putrid fever, June 23. 1770 j
and is buried in the parish-church of St James’s West¬
minster.
His poems, published soon after his death in qfo and
8vo, consist of “ The Pleasures of Imagination,” two
books of “ Odes,” a “ Hymn to the Naiads,” and
some “ Inscriptions.” “ The Pleasures of Imagina¬
tion,” his capital work, was first published in 1744',
and a very extraordinary production it was from a man
who had not reached his 23d year. He was afterwards
sensible, however, that it wanted revision and correc¬
tion 5 and he went on revising and correcting it for
several years ; but finding this task to grow upon his
hands, and despairing of ever executing it to his own
satisfaction, he abandoned the purpose of correcting,
and resolved to write the poem over anew upon a some¬
what different and enlarged plan. He finished two
books of his new poem, a few copies of which were
printed for the use of the author and certain friends j
of the first book in 1757, of the second in 1765. He
finished also a good part of a third book, and an in¬
troduction to a fourth ; but his most munificent and ex¬
cellent friend, conceiving all that is executed of the
new work too inconsiderable to supply the place, and
supersede the republication, of the original poem, and
yet too valuable to be withheld from the public, hath
caused them both to be inserted in the collection of his
poems,
2
AKIBA, a famous rabbin, flourished a little after Aldt*
the destruction of Jerusalem by Titus. He kept the ||
flocks of a rich citizen of Jerusalem till the 40th year AIk.
of his age, and then devoted himself to study in the 'r“"
academies for 24 years ; and was afterwards one of the
greatest masters in Israel. According to the Jewish
accounts, he had 24,000 scholars. He declared for
the impostor Barcochebas, whom he owned for the
Messiah $ and not only anointed him king, but took
upon himself the office of his master of the horse. The
troops which the emperor Hadrian sent against the
Jews, who under the conduct of this false Messiah had
committed horrid massacres, exterminated this faction.
Akiba was taken, and put to death with great cruelty^
He lived 120 years j and was buried with his wife in
a cave upon a mountain not far from Tiberias, and
his 24,000 scholars were buried round about him upon
the same mountain. It is imagined he invented a sup¬
posititious work under the name of the patriarch A-
braham.
AKISSAT, the ancient Thyatira, a city of Natolia,
in Asia, situated in a plain 18 miles broad, which pro¬
duces plenty of cotton and grain. The inhabitants,
who are reckoned to be about 5000, are said to be all
Mahometans. The houses are built of nothing but
earth or turf dried in the sun, and are very low and ill
contrived ; but there are six or seven mosques, which
are all of marble. There are remarkable inscriptions
on marble in several parts of the town, which are part
of the ruins of the ancient Thyatira. It is seated on
the river Hermus, 50 miles from Pergamos. E. Long.
28. 30. N. Lat. 38. 50.
AKOND, an officer of justice in Persia, who takes
cognizance of the causes of orphans and widows 5 of
contracts, and other civil concerns. He is the head oi
the school of law, and gives lectures to all the subaltern
officers: he has his deputies in all the courts of the
kingdom, who, with the second sadra, make all con¬
tracts.
AL, an Arabic particle prefixed to words, and sig¬
nifying much the same with the English particle the:
Thus they say, alkermes, alkoran, &c. i. e. the ker-
mes, the koran, &c.
Al, or Ald, a Saxon term frequently prefixed to
the names of places, denoting their antiquity j as Aid-
borough, Aldgate, &c.
ALA, a Latin term, properly signifying a wing j
from a resemblance to which several other things are
called by the same name : Thus,
Ala, is a term used by botanists for the hollow of a
stalk, which either the leaf, or the pedicle of the leaf,
makes with it; or it is that hollow turning, or sinus,
placed between the stalk or branch of a plant and the
leaf, whence a new offspring usually issues. Sometimes
it is used for those parts of leaves otherwise called lobes,
or wings.
ALHi, (the plural number) is used to signify those
petals or leaves of papilionaceous flowers, placed be¬
tween those others which are called the vexillum and
carina, and which make the top and bottom of the
flowers. Instances of flowers of this structure are seen
in those of pease and beans, in which the top leaf Ur
petal is the vexillum, the bottom the carina, and the
side ones the alae.
Al^e is also used for those extremely slender and
membranaceous
ALA [ 555 ]
ala
Alas membranaceous parts of some seeds, which appear as
|j wings placed on them j it likewise signifies those mem-
labaster. branaceous expansions running along the stems of some
plants, which are therefore called alated stalks.
ALjE, in Anatomy, a terra applied to the lobes of the
liver, the cartilages of the nostrils, &c.
Al^e, in the Roman Art of JFar, were the two wings
or extreme parts of the army drawn up in order of bat¬
tle.
ALABA, one of the three smallest districts of Bis¬
cay in Spain, but pretty fertile in rye, barley, and fruits.
There are in it very good mines of iron, and it had for¬
merly the title of a kingdom.
ALABx^NDA, in Ancient Geography, a town of
Caria, near the Meander, situat ed beneath eminences re¬
sembling asses with pack-saddles, which gave rise to the
jest 5 and between Amyzo to the west and Stratonice to
the east. Under the Romans they enjoyed assizes, or a
convention of jurisdiction, by Pliny reckoned the fourth
in order j hence the proverb in Stephanus, expressing
their happiness. It was built by Alabandus, whom
therefore they deemed a god. The people were called
Alabandi, Alabandenses, (Cicero ;) and Alabandeis, af¬
ter the Greek manner, in coins of Augustus and Clau¬
dius *, they were also called Alabandeni (Livy).
ALABARCHA, in Antiquity, a kind of magistrate
among the Jews of Alexandria, whom the emperors al¬
lowed them to elect, for the superintendency of their
policy, and to decide differences and disputes which
arose among them.
ALABASTER, William, an English divine, was
born at Hadley in the county of Suffolk. He was one
of the doctors of Trinity college in Cambridge ; and
he attended the earl of Essex as his chaplain in the ex¬
pedition to Cadiz in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. It
is said, that his first resolutions of changing his religion
were occasioned by his seeing the pomp of the churches
of the Roman communion, and the respect with which
the priests seemed to be treated amongst them ; and
appearing thus to waver in his mind, he soon found
persons who took advantage of this disposition of his,
and of the complaints which he made of not being ad¬
vanced according to his deserts in England, in such a
manner, that he did not scruple to go over to the Po¬
pish religion, as soon as he found that there was no
ground to hope for greater encouragement in his own
country. However that matter be, he joined himself
to the Romish communion, but was disappointed in
his expectations. He was soon displeased at this j and
he could not reconcile himself to the discipline of that
church, which made no consideration of the degrees
which he had taken before. It is probable too that
he could not approve of the worship of creatures, which
Protestants are used to look upon with horror. Upon
this he returned to England in order to resume his
former religion. He obtained a prebend in the cathe¬
dral of St Paul, and after that the rectory of Therfield
in Hertfordshire. He was well skilled in the Hebrew
tongue $ but he gave a wrong turn to his genius by
studying the Cabala, with which he was strangely in¬
fatuated. He gave a proof of this in a sermon which
he preached upon taking his degree of doctor of di¬
vinity at Cambridge. He took for his text the be¬
ginning of the first book of Chronicles, “ Adam, Seth,
Enos j” and having touched upon the literal sense, he
turned immediately to the mystical, asserting, that
Adam signified misfortune and misery, and so of the
rest. His verses were greatly esteemed. He wrote a
Latin tragedy intitled Roxana; which, when it was act¬
ed in a college at Cambridge, was attended with a very
lemarkable accident. There was a lady who was so
terrified at the last word of the tragedy, Sequar, Sequai',
which was pronounced with a very shocking tone, that
she lost her senses all her lifetime after. He died in
the year 1640. His Apparatus in Revelationcm Jesu
Chnsti was printed at Antwerp in 1607. His Spira-
culum tubarum, seu fons Spiritualium Exposihonum ex
ccquivocis Pentaglotti significationibus, and his Ecce
Sponsus venit, seu tuba pulchritudinis, hoc est demon-
stratio quod non sit illicitum nec impossibile computare
durationem mundi et tempus secundi adventus Christi,
were printed at London. From these titles we may
judge what were the taste and genius of the author.
Alabaster, in Natural History, a mineral substance
whose base is calcareous earth. It differs from marble
in being combined, not with the carbonic, but with the
sulphuric acid. See Chemistry, and Mineralogy
Index.
Alabaster, in Antiquity, a term used for a vase
wherein odoriferous liquors were anciently put. The
reason of the denomination is, that vessels for this pur¬
pose were frequently made of the alabaster stone, which
Pliny and other ancients represent as peculiarly pro¬
per for this purpose. Several critics will have the box
mentioned in the Gospels as made of alabaster to have
been of glass : And though the texts say that the wo¬
man broke it, yet the pieces seem miraculously to have
been united, since we are told the entire box was pur¬
chased by the emperor Constantine, and preserved as
a relic of great price. Others will have it, that the
name alabaster denotes the form rather than the matter
of this box : In this view they define alabaster by a
box without a handle, deriving the word from the pri¬
vative «, and Aus/3)), ansa, handle.
Alabaster is also said to have been used for an
ancient liquid measure, containing ten ounces of wine,
or nine of oil. In this sense, the alabaster was equal
to half the sextary.
ALABASTRUM dendroide, a kind of laminat¬
ed alabaster, beautifully variegated with the figures of
shrubs, trees, &c. found in great abundance in the pro¬
vince of Hohenstein.
ALADINISTS, a sect among the Mahometans, an¬
swering to freethinkers among us.
ALADULIA, a considerable province of Turkey
in Asia, in that part called Natolia, between the moun¬
tains of Antitaurus, which separate it from Amasia
on the north, and from Carimania on the west. It has
the Mediterranean sea on the south j and the Euphrates,
or Frat, on the east, which divides it from Diarbeker.
It comprehends the Lesser Armenia of the ancients,
and the east part of Cilicia. Formerly it had kings of
its own j but the head of the last king was cut off by
Selim I. emperor of the Turks, who had conquered the
country. * It is now divided into two parts : the north,
comprehended between Taurus, Antitaurus, and the
Euphrates, is a beglerbeglic, which bears the name of
Marash, the capital town ; and the south, seated be¬
tween Mount Taurus and the Mediterranean, is united
to the beglerbeglic of Aleppo. The country is rough,
4 A a rugged*
Alabaster
II
Aladulia.
ALA
[ 556 ]
ALA
Ala du’i a
rugged, and mountainous •, yet there are good pastures,
and plenty of horses and camels. The people are har¬
dy and thievish. The capital is Malatigah.
ALAIN, Chartier, secretary to Charles VII. king
of France, horn in the year 1386. He was the author
of several works in prose and verse*, but his most famous
performance was his Chronicle of Iving Charles VII.
Bernard de Girard, in his preface to the History of
France, styles him “ an excellent historian, who has
given an account of all the affairs, particulars, ceremo¬
nies, speeches, answers, and circumstances, at which he
was present himself, or had information of.” Giles
Coroxet tells us, that Margaret, daughter to the king
of Scotland, and wife to the dauphin, passing once
through a hall where Alain lay asleep, she stopped and
kissed him before all the company who attended: some
of them telling her, that it was strange she should kiss
a man who had so few charms in his person, she replied,
“ I did not kiss the man, hut the mouth from whence
proceed so many excellent sayings, so many wdse dis¬
courses, and so many elegant expressions.” Mr Fon-
tenelle, among his Dialogues of the Dead, has one up¬
on this incident, between the princess Margaret and
Plato. Mr Pasquier compares Alain to Seneca, on ac¬
count of the great number of beautiful sentences inter¬
spersed throughout his writings.
ALAIS, a considerable town of France, in the de¬
partment of Gard, and formerly the province of Lan¬
guedoc, situated on the river Gard, at the foot of the
Cevennes. The Jesuits had a college in this place j and
a fort was built here in 1689. It is 34 miles north of
Montpelier, and 340 from Paris. E. Long. 4. 20. N.
Lat. 44. 8. Population 7802 in 1815.
ALAMAGAN, in Geography, one of the Ladrone
or Marianne islands, in the Indian ocean, is situated in
N. Lat. 18. 5. and E. Long. 146. 47. It is of an
irregular form, and about 12 miles in circumference.
The land in some places of this island is pretty high,
so that it may be seen at the distance of 12 or 14
leagues. Near the north end of the island there is a
volcano which emitted an immense body of smoke in
the year 1799, when it was visited by Captain Bass.
The volcano is in a mountain close to the sea, rising
above its level 1200 or 1500 feet. The high parts of
the island are rugged and sterile. In the lower parts
there is a profusion and luxuriance of vegetation. They
abound with cocoa-nut trees, several kinds of stone
fruit, and the mellora or bread-tree of the Nicobar
Islands. Some small sugar canes, some banana trees,
and one bread-fruit tree, were discovered. Lizards,
land-crabs, large partridges, quails, pigeons, owls,
thrushes, and bullfinches, are numerous. But no fresh
water, which was the object of Captain Bass’s visit,
could he found.
ALAMANDUS, Lewis, in French Aleman, arch¬
bishop of Arles, and cardinal of St Cecilia, was one of
the greatest men of the 13th century. The cardi¬
nal presided in the council of Basil, which deposed Eu-
genius IV. and elected the antipope Felix V. He is
much commended by^Eneas Sylvius, as a man extreme¬
ly well formed for presiding in such assemblies, firm and
vigorous, illustrious by his virtue, learned, and of an
admirable memory in recapitulating all that the ora¬
tors and disputants had said. One day, when he ha¬
rangued against the superiority of the pope over the
council, he distinguished himself in such an eminent
manner, that several persons went to kiss him, while
others pressed even to kiss his robe. They extolled to
the skies his abilities and genius, which had raised him, ^
though a Frenchman, to a superiority over the Italians,
notwithstanding all their natural subtlety and finesse.
There is no need of asking, whether Pope Eugenius
thundered against the president of a council which de¬
posed him. He deprived him of all his dignities, and
treated him as a son of iniquity. However, notwith¬
standing this, Lewis Alamandus died in the odour of
sanctity, and performed so many miracles after his death,
that at the request of the canons and Celestine monks
of Avignon, and the solicitation of the cardinal of
Clermont, legate a latere of Clement VII. he was bea¬
tified by the pope in the year 1527-
ALAMANNI, Lewis, was born at Florence, of
a noble family, on the 28th of October 1495. He
was obliged to fly his country for a conspiracy against
Julius de Medici, who was soon after chosen pope un¬
der the name of Clement VII. During this voluntary
banishment, he went into France : where Francis I.
from a love to his genius and merit, became his patron.
This prince employed him in several important affairs,
and honoured him with the collar of the order of St
Michael. About the year 1540, he was admitted a
member of the Inflammati, an academy newly erected
at Padua, chiefly by Daniel Barbaro and Ugolin Mar-
telli. After the death of Francis, Henry duke of Or¬
leans, who succeeded him in 1537, showed no less fa¬
vour to Alamanni; and in the year 1551, sent him as
his ambassador to Genoa: this was his last journey to
Italy ; and being returned to France, he died at Am-
boise on the 18th of April 1556, being in the 61st
year of his age. He left many beautiful poems, and
other valuable performances, in the Italian language.
We have also some notes of his upon tlomer’s Iliad
and Odyssey: those upon the Iliad were printed in the
Cambridge edition of Homer in 1689, and Joshua
Barnes has also inserted them in his fine edition of
Homer in 1711.
ALAMO DALITY, in a general sense, is the ac¬
commodating a person’s behaviour, dress, and actions,
to the prevailing taste of the country or times in which
he lives.
Alamodality of writing, is defined the accommo¬
dation of mental productions, both as to the choice of
subject and the manner of treating it, to the genius or
taste of the times, in order to render them more accep¬
table to the readers.
ALAMODE, a phrase originally French, import¬
ing a thing to be in the fashion or mode. The phrase
has been adopted not only into several of the living
languages, as the English and High Dutch, but some
have even taken it into the Latin. Hence we meet
with Alamodicus and Alamodalitas.
Alamode, in Commerce, a thin glossy black silk,
chiefly used for women’s hoods and men’s mourning
scarfs.
ALAMOS, Balthasar, a Spanish writer, born at
Medina del Campo in Castile. After having studied
the law at Salamanca, he entered into the service of
Anthony Perez, secretary of state under Philip II. He
was in high esteem and confidence with his master, up¬
on which account he was imprisoned after the disgrace
of
Alainas.
diii!
II
Alamos.
ala [ S57 ] ALA
A/iimos niinister. He was kept in confinement u years,
when Philip III. coming to the throne, set him at li-
Aiand. berty, according to the orders given by his father in
* his will. Alamos continued in a private capacity, till
the duke of Olivarez, the favourite of Philip IV. call¬
ed him to public employments. He was a man of wit
a? well as judgment, but his pen was superior to his
tongue. He died in the 88th year of his age. His
Spanish translation of Tacitus, and the aphorisms which
he added in the margin, gained him great reputation.
This work was published at Madrid in 1614 ; and was
to have been followed, as mentioned in the king’s pri¬
vilege, with a commentary, which, however, has never
yet appeared. The author composed the whole during
his imprisonment.
ALAN, Cardinal William, was born at Rossal
in Lancashire, in the year 1532. He went to Oxford
at the age of 15, and in 1550 was elected fellow of
Oriel college. In 1556, being then only 24 years old,
he was chosen principal of St Mary’s hall, and one of
• the proctors of the university. In 1558 he was made
canon of York *, but, upon Queen Elizabeth’s acces¬
sion to the throne, he left England, and settled at Lou¬
vain in an English college, of which he became the
chief support. In 1565 he visited his native country j
but on account of his extreme activity in the propa¬
gation of the Roman Catholic religion, he was obli¬
ged to fly the kingdom in 1568. He went first to
Mechlin, and then to Houay, where he was made doc¬
tor of divinity. Soon after, he was appointed canon of
Cambray, and then canon of Rheims. He was crea¬
ted cardinal on the 28th of July 1587, by the title of
St Martin in Montibus ; and obtained from the king of
Spain a rich abbey in the kingdom of Naples, and af¬
terwards the bishoprick of Mechlin. It is supposed to
have been by the advice and instigation of this priest,
that Philip II. attempted to invade England. He died
on the 20th of October 1594, aged 635 and was bu¬
ried in the English college at Rome. He was a man
of considerable learning, and an elegant writer. He
wrote many books in defence of the Romish religion.
The most remarkable are, 1. A defence of the 12 Mar¬
tyrs in one Year. Tho. Alfield was hanged for bring¬
ing, and publishing, this and other of Alan’s works, in¬
to England, in the year 1584. 2. A Declaratioti of the
Sentence of Sextus V. &c. A work intended to explain
the pope’s bull for the excommunication of Queen Eli¬
zabeth, and to exhort the people of England to take up
arms in favour of the Spaniards. Many thousand co¬
pies of this book, printed at Antwerp, were put on
board the Armada } but the enterprise failing, they were
afterwards destroyed. 3. Of the Worship due to Saints
and their Relicks, 1583. This treatise was answered
by Lord Burleigh, and is esteemed the most elegant of
the cardinal’s writings.
ALAND, in Geography, with its dependant islands,
to the number of eighty, is situated between the gulfs
of Bothnia, and Finland. These islands lie between
N. Lat, 59. 47. and 60. 30. and between E. Long.
19. 17. and 22. 7. It contains about seventy-seven
square English miles, and is in length about twenty
English miles, and sixteen in breadth. It formed part
of the possessions of Sweden, but was ceded to Russia
along with Finland in 1809.
Aland has been supposed anciently to have been
governed by its own monarchs •, it is certain, however, Aland,
that since the fourteenth century, it has made part of *'■■■ "v*~
the bishoprick and government of Abo, with the ex¬
ception that in the year 1743 Aland and the other islands
submitted to Russia, and swore allegiance to the czarina,
but were soon after restored to Sweden by the treaty of
Abo. These islands in former times frequently suffered
from the invasions of the Russians, and the inhabitants
had been forced to fly from their houses and fertile
plains. But in 1718 a congress was held here for the
restoration of peace, by which the enjoyment of tran¬
quillity was secured to them.
Aland and the several isles contain eight parishes,
eacli of which has a church j and besides these places
of worship, there are seven chapels.
The Laplanders and Fins were undoubtedly the earr
liest inhabitants of these islands, and their residence
here is plainly to be traced in the names of places
which still remain.
Several lakes are met with in these islands, and but
one rivulet, which however is sufficient to work two'
mills, one of which is a saw-mill. The mountains are
numerous $ the highest of them is called Ulf’dubs Klint.
The revenues which the crown of Sweden receives
from Aland and the other islands, amount annually to
nineteen thousand nine hundred and eighty-six rix-dol-
lars. Two hundred and ninety-eight sailors are regi¬
stered in these islands, which cost the king of Sweden
about five thousand rix-dollars yearly.
Aland contains about three thousand seven hundred
and fifty acres of land in cultivation, which produce
rye, wheat, oats, and bailey, in the proportion of seven
for one. The annual growth of wheat is about twenty-
two thousand five hundred barrels. There is one parish
which has no arable land, and in this respect resembles
Lapland. The inhabitants of this parish employ them¬
selves in fishing, and purchase all the corn they have
occasion for of their neighbours. They catch vast
numbers of pilchards, of which they make great profit,
it being the chief traffic of these islands.
It has been in agitation to build a city in the isle of
Aland, but the project has not hitherto been carried
into execution, owing, it is said, to the difficulty of
chasing a proper spot for it.
The usual route from Sweden to Finland is from the
post-office of Grislehamn in Upland, which is eleven
and a half Swedish miles, to Eckero in Aland $ and
from that place across the island to Abo, which is five
miles more. A Swedish.mile makes between six and
seven English miles.
In the year 1792 the number of inhabitants upon
the island of Aland amounted to eleven thousand two
hundred and sixty, which is upwards of a thousand to
every square Swedish mile ; a very great number when
it is considered how mountainous the island is. The
inhabitants of these islands live to very great ages. From
the year 1692 to the present time, nine persons are
recorded to have died at the great age of one. hundred
years $ and perhaps the number had been found greater,
had it been thought worth while to notice this particular.
In 1703 there died a woman named Anna Berg, who
was one hundred and nine years old : and at Kumblinge,
in the year 1766, another person of the same sex died
at an age of upwards of one hundred and twenty years.
One sixth part of the inhabitants are about fifty years
old | .i
ALA [ 558 ] ALA
Aland, old j a circumstance which affords a convincing proof
Alaraf. of the healthiness of the place.
““■v——' The sea which surrounds the isle of Aland is very
seldom frozen, and was less so formerly than at the
present time. In 1546 it was remarked as an extra¬
ordinary event, that in that year the sea was so frozen
as to be crossed on the ice. It seems latterly that
these severe frosts happened once in ten years. The
winter of the year 1702 was remarkably mild, so that
barley was sown on the twenty-fifth of March, at which
time there was plenty of pasture for cattle : consider¬
ing its high latitude, Aland enjoys a very favourable
climate.
In their manners and customs the inhabitants of
Aland do not differ greatly from the peasants of Up¬
land. Their marriages and funerals are celebrated
much in the same manner.
The Alanders commonly use nourishing food j their
bread is generally made of rye, even when the crops of
that kind of corn have proved unfavourable. Fresh
fish, and fish dried or salted, togther with milk, but¬
ter, cheese, and flesh-meat, are their usual fare. They
make use of the flesh of seals 5 and prepare a dish called
skalkroppe, composed of collops of the flesh mixed up
with flour and lard, and this they reckon excellent.
In their voyages by sea they lay in a good stock of pro¬
visions, and at those times are not sparing of meat and
butter.
The dress of the Alanders is becoming. The meu
wear, in general, short jackets, which on holidays are
commonly of blue cloth. The young peasants com¬
monly wear cotton stockings, and many of them have
even watches. The women, when full dressed, wear a
petticoat and apron of camlet, cotton, or printed linen,
and sometimes of silk. Their dress in mourning is ge¬
nerally of black silk, with a camlet petticoat.
The dwellings of the peasants are very neat and con¬
venient, kept in good repair, and well lighted. They
are usually built of wood, fir, or deal, and covered with
the bark of the birch tree, or shingles. Their out¬
houses are mostly thatched. As they have no running
streams and water-mills, scarcely any peasant is with¬
out a wind-mill.
The Alanders are an ingenious, lively, and courteous
people ■, and on the sea display a great degree of skill
and resolution. They are far from being superstitious,
but are said to be of a litigious disposition.
No bears or squirrels are to be found in these islands ;
and the elk, which formerly was uncommonly nume¬
rous, is now no longer seen in them. The animals
chiefly found are wolves (which are said to cross the
sea from Finland, when it has happened to be frozen
over), foxes, martens, hares, ermines, bats, moles, rats,
mice, &c.} otters are but rarely met with : on the coast
are found seals, &c. Above a hundred species of birds
are found in the islands. Fish are in great abundance.
The number of insects amounts to eight hundred species,
some of which are extremely destructive to trees and
newly built houses. The mountains are chiefly formed
of red granite. {AcerbPs Travels').
ALARAF, in the Mahometan theology, the parti¬
tion wall that separates heaven from hell. The word
is plural, and properly written al araf; in the singular
it is written al arf. It is derived from the Arabic
verb Wafa, to distinguish. Alaraf gives the denomi¬
nation to the seventh chapter of the Alcoran, wherein Alaraf
mention is made of this wall. Mahomet seems to have
copied his Alaraf, either from the great gulf of separa- fiasco,
tion mentioned in the New Testament, or from the ”v~"'
Jewish writers, who also speak of a thin wall dividing
heaven from hell. Mahometan writers differ extremely
as to the persons who are to be found on Alaraf. Some
take it for a sort of limbus for the patriarchs, pro¬
phets, &c. 5 others place here such whose good and evil
works so exactly balance each other, that they deserve
neither reward nor punishment. Others imagine this
intermediate space to be possessed by those who, going
to war without their parents leave, and suffering mar¬
tyrdom there, are excluded paradise for their disobedi¬
ence, yet escape hell because they are martyrs.
ALARBES, a name given to those Arabians who
live in tents, and distinguish themselves by their dress
from the others who live in towns.
ALARES, in Roman antiquity, an epithet given to
the cavalry, on account of their being placed in the
two wings of the army.
ALARIC, a famous general of the Goths. He
entered Thrace at the head of 200,000 men, and laid
waste all the country through which he passed. He
marched next to Macedonia and Thessaly: The Thes¬
salians met him near the mouth of the river Peneus,
and killed about 3000 of his army ; nevertheless he ad¬
vanced into Greece, and after having ravaged the whole
country, returned to Epirus, loaded with immense
spoils. After staying here five years, he resolved to turn
his arms to the west. He marched through Pannonia $
and, finding little resistance, entered Italy, in the con¬
sulship of Stilicho and Aurelianus, A. D. 400. Af¬
ter various battles and treaties, he at last took Rome
by treachery, and permitted his soldiers to plunder it;
this happened A. D. 400. Alaric, having laid waste
a great part of Italy, intended to pass into Sicily : but
a storm obliging him to land again, he besieged the
city of Cosenza} and having taken it, he died there in
411, eleven years after he first entered Italy.
ALARM, in the military art, denotes either the
apprehension of being suddenly attacked j or the notice
thereof signified by firing a cannon, firelock, or the
like. False alarms are frequently made use of, to ha¬
rass the enemy, by keeping them constantly under
arms. Sometimes also this method is taken to try the
vigilance of the piquet-guard, and what might be ex¬
pected from them in case of real danger.
Alarm-BcII, that rung upon any sudden emergency,
as a fire, mutiny, or the like.
Alarm-PosI, or ALARM-Place, the ground for draw¬
ing up each regiment in case of an alarm. This is
otherwise called the rendezvous.
Alarm, in fencing, is the same with what is other¬
wise called an appeal or challenge.
ALASCANI, in church history, a sect of Anti-
Lutherans, whose distinguishing tenet, besides their de¬
nying baptism, is said to have been this, that the words,
This is my body, in the institution of the eucharist, are
not to be understood of the bread, but of the whole ac¬
tion, or celebration of the supper. They are said to
have taken the name from one Joannes Alasco, a Po¬
lish baron, superintendant of the church of that coun¬
try in England. See the next article.
A.LASCO, John, a Polish nobleman of the 16th
century,
ala [ 559 ] ALB
Aiasco century, who, imbibing the reformed opinions, was ex-
polled his country, and became preacher to a Protestant
Alay. congregation at Embden j but foreseeing persecution
■"’V—**' there, came to England about the year 1551, while the
reformation was carrying on under Edward the VI.
The publication of the Interim driving the Protestants
to such places as afforded them toleration, 380 were
naturalized here, and obtained a charter of incorpora¬
tion, by which they were erected into an ecclesiastical
establishment, independent on the church of England.
The Augustine friars church was granted them, with
the revenues, for the maintenance of Aiasco as super-
intendant, with four assistant ministers, who were to be
approved by the king: and this congregation lived
undisturbed until the accession of Queen Mary, when
they were all sent away. They were kindly received
and permitted to settle at Embden ; and Aiasco at last,
after an absence of 20 years, by the favour of Sigis-
mund, returned to his own country, where he died in
1560. Aiasco was much esteemed by Erasmus, and
the historians of his time speak greatly in his praise.
We have of his writing, De Cccna Domini liber ; Epistola
continens Summam controversies de Ccena Domini, Sfc.
He had some particular tenets $ and his followers are
called Alascani in church-history.
AL AT AMAH A, a large river of North America,
which, rising in the Apalachian mountains, runs south¬
east through the province of Georgia, and falls into the
Atlantic ocean, below the town of Frederica.
ALATERNUS, in Botany, the trivial name of
a species of the rhamnus. See Rhamnus, Botany
I?idex.
ALAVA, a district of Spain, about 20 miles in
length, and 17 in breadth, containing very good iron
mines. Victoria is the capital town.
ALAUDA, or Lark. See Ornithology Index.
ALAUTA, a considerable river of Turkey in Eu¬
rope, which, after watering the north-east part of Tran¬
sylvania and part of Walachia, falls into the Danube
almost opposite to Nicopolis.
ALAY, signifying in the Turkish language “ The
Triumph,” a ceremony which accompanies the assem¬
bling together the forces of that vast empire upon the
breaking out of a war. It consists of the most insipid
buftoonery, and is attended with acts of the most shock¬
ing barbarity. That which took place upon occasion
of the late war between the Porte and Russia is descri¬
bed by Baron Tott in his Memoirs as follows.
“ It consists in a kind of masquerade, in which each
trade successively presents to the spectators the mecha¬
nical exercise of its respective art. The labourer draws
his plough, the weaver handles his shuttle, the joiner
his plane ; and these different characters, seated in cars
richly ornamented, commence the procession, and pre¬
cede the standard of Mahomet, when it is brought out
of the seraglio to be carried to the army, in order to in¬
sure the victory to the Ottoman troops.
“ This banner of the Turks, which they name
Sandjak-Cfieriff, or The Standard of the Prophet, is
so revered among them, that, notwithstanding its re¬
putation has been so often tarnished, it still retains
their implicit confidence, and is the sacred signal unto
which they rally. Every thing proclaims its sanctity.
None but the emirs are allowed to touch it ; they are
its guards, and it is carried by their chief. The Mus¬
sulmans alone are permitted to look upon it. If touched Alay
by other hands, it would be defiled; if seen by other f|
eyes, profaned. In short, it is encompassed by the most Alba,
barbarous fanaticism. y—
“ A long peace had unfortunately caused the ridicu¬
lousness, and especially the danger, of this ceremony
to be forgotten. The Christians imprudently crowd¬
ed to see it; and the Turks, who, by the situation of
their houses, could make money of their windows, be¬
gan to profit by the advantage ; when an emir, who
preceded the banner, proclaimed with a loud voice,
‘ Let no infidel dare to profane with his presence the
holy standard of the prophet; and let every Mussulman
who perceives an unbeliever make it known under pain
of reprobation.’
“ From that moment no asylum was to be found;
even those became infox-mers, who, by letting out their
houses, had rendered themselves accomplices in the
crime. A religious fury seized on every mind, and
put arms in every hand ; the more atrocious the cruelty,
the more was it meritorious. No regard was paid to
sex or age ; pregnant women, dragged by the hair, and
trodden under feet by the multitude, perished in the
most deplorable manner. Nothing was respected by
these monsters j and under such auspices the Turks com¬
menced the war.”
ALB, or Alee, in the Romish Church, a vestment
of white linen hanging down to the feet, and answering
to the surplice of the English clergy. In the ancient
church, it was usual, with those newly baptized, to wear
an alb, or white vestment; and hence the Sunday after
Easter was called dominica in albis, on account of the
albs worn by the baptized on Easter-day.
Alb, is also a name of a Turkish coin, otherwise
called asper. See Asper.
ALBA, in Ancient Geography, a town of the Marsi
in Italy, situated on the north side of the Lacus Fuci-
nus, still retaining its name. It stands upon an emi¬
nence, and is noted in Roman history for being the
state prison where captive princes were shut up after
being barbarously dragged through the streets of Rome
at the chariot wheels of a triumphant consul. Perseus
king of Macedon terminated his wretched career in
this confinement, with his son, the last hope of an il¬
lustrious line of kings. Syphax the Numidian, and
Bituinus king of the Averni, were also condemned to
this gaol by the particular clemency of the senate,
which sometimes indulged its savage disposition by put¬
ting its captives to death.
Alba being situated in the centre of Italy, amidst
difficult mountainous passes, and far from all means of
escape, ivas esteemed a most proper place for the pur¬
pose of guarding prisoners of importance. Artificial
strength was added to its natural security by fortifica¬
tions, which remain to this day in a state that proves
their ancient solidity. For the entertainment of the
garrison, which was required in a place of such conse¬
quence, an amphitheatre was erected, of which the
ruins are still valuable, as well as the foundations of a
temple, and other buildings of Roman times.
Lucius Vitellius, brother to the emperor of that name,
had a villa near this place, famous for the variety and
excellence of its fruit trees, which he had brought from
Syria. His gardens were the nurseries where several
of the most delicious stone fruits, that are now so com-
mott i
mJ
ALB
[ 560 ]
ALB
Alba
Alban.
mon in Europe, were first cultivated and multiplied.
It must have been necessary at Alba to shelter trees
transplanted from Asia, and to treat them with great
tenderness and care, in order to rear them to pei lec¬
tion : for the climate of this high region is extremely
rigorous in winter ; the cold season lasts long, and is
accompanied with violent storms of wind and falls of
snow. The lake has been often frozen entirely over.
Alba Fii'ma, ov Album, in our old customs, denoted
rent paid in silver, and not in corn, which was called
black mail.
Alba Terra, one of the numerous names for the phi¬
losopher’s stone.
Alba Regalis. See Stuhl Weissenburg.
Alba Helviorum, or Albaugusta, in Ancient Geogra-
pfnj, afterwards called Vivarium, now Viviers, in the
south-east of Languedoc, on the Rhone. In the lower
age the inhabitants were called Albenses, and their city
Civitas Albensium, in the Notitia Gallia;. E. Long.
4. 45. Lat. 44. 50.
Alba Julia, in Ancient Geography, now Weissenburg,
a town of Transylvania, on the river Marisius, or Ma-
risch, to the west of Hermanstat, supposed to be called
Alba Julia, after Julia Domna the mother ofCaracalla.
There are, however, several inscriptions found at or
near Weissenburg, which bear Col. Apul. that is,
Colonia Apulensis, without the least mention of Alba
Julia, though inscribed after Caracalla’s time. Add,
that Ulpian, reciting the colonies of Dacia, calls this
co\owy Apulensis, and neither norWfience
there is a suspicion, that Alba Julia is a corruption of
Apulum. It was also called Apulum Angustum, E. Long.
25. o. Lat. 46. 46.
Alba Longa, in Ancient Geography, a colony from
Lavinum, in Latium, established by Ascanius the son
of tineas, at the foot of the Mohs Albanus : call¬
ed Alba, from a white sow found by ./Eneas, which
farrowed 30 white pigs on that spot} which circum¬
stance was interpreted to portend the building of a city
there in 30 years after (Propertius). The epithet
Longa was added on account of its length. It was the
royal residence till the building of Rome, as was fore¬
told by Anchises (Virgil) ; was destroyed by Tullus
Hostilius, all but the fane or temple; and the inhabi¬
tants were transplanted to Rome (Strabo).
Alba Pompeia, in Ancient Geography, on the river
Ceba, now Ceva, in Liguria, the birth-place of the
emperor Pertinax j a colony either established at first
by Pompey, or re-established by him after having been
before settled by Scipio. The inhabitants were called
Albenses Pompeiani. At this day the town is simply
called Alba, without any epithet.
ALBAHURIM, jigura sexdecim laterum, a figure
of great importance according to astrological physi¬
cians, who built their prognostics on it.
ALBAN, St. is said to have been the first person
who suffered martyrdom for Christianity in Britain;
he is therefore usually styled the protomartyr of this
island. He was born at Verulam, and flourished to¬
wards the end of the third century. In his youth he
took a journey to Rome, in company with Amphiba-
lus a monk of Caerleon, and served seven years as a
soldier under the emperor Dioclesian. At his return
home, he settled in Verulam ; and, through the exam¬
ple and instructions of Amphibalus, renounced the ex-
rors of Paganism, in which he had been educated, and Albaa
became a convert to the Christian religion. It is ge- H
nerally agreed, that Alban suffered martyrdom during AIbaiKn»
the great persecution under the reign of Dioclesian;
but authors differ as to the year when it happened :
Bede and others fix it in 286 j some refer it to the year
296 } but Usher reckons it amongst the events of 303.
The story and circumstances relating to his martyrdom,
according to Bede, are as follow. Being yet a Pagan
(or at least it not being known that he was a Christian),
he entertained Amphibalus in his house. rIhe Roman
governor being informed thereof, sent a party of sol¬
diers to apprehend Amphibalus ; but Alban, putting
on the habit of his guest, presented himself in his stead,
and was carried before that magistrate. The governor
having asked him of what family he was ? Alban re¬
plied, “ To what purpose do you inquire of my fa¬
mily ? if you would know my religion, I am a Chri¬
stian.” Then being asked his name, he answered,
“ My name is Alban j and I worship the only true and
living God, who created all things.” The magistrate
replied, “ If you would enjoy the happiness of eternal
life, delay not to sacrifice to the great gods.” Alban
answered, “The sacrifices you offer are made to devilsj
neither can they help the needy, or grant the petitions
of their votaries.” His behaviour so enraged the go¬
vernor, that he ordered him immediately to be behead¬
ed. In his way to execution, he was stopped by a ri¬
ver, over which was a bridge so thronged with specta¬
tors that it was impossible to cross it; the saint, as
we are told, lifted up his eyes to heaven, and the stream
was miraculously divided, and afforded a passage for
himself and a thousand more persons. Bede does not
indeed give us the name of this river 5 but, notwith¬
standing this omission, the miracle, w7e suppose, will
not be the less believed. This wonderful event convert¬
ed the executioner upon the spot, who threw away his
drawn sword, and, falling at St Alban’s feet, desired
he might have the honour to die with him. This sud¬
den conversion of the headsman occasioning a delay
in the execution till another person could be got to per¬
form the office, St Alban walked up to a neighbouring
hill, where he prayed for water to quench his thirst, and
a fountain of water sprung up under his feet: here he
was beheaded on the 23d of June. TLhe executioner is
said to have been a signal example of divine vengeance j
for as soon as he gave the fatal stroke, his eyes dropt
out of his head. We may see the opinion of Mr Mil-
ton in regard to this narrative, in his History of Eng¬
land. His words are these, speaking of St Alban:
“ The story of whose martyrdom, soiled and worse mar¬
tyred with the fabling zeal of some idle fancies, more
fond of miracles than apprehensive of the truth, deserves
no longer digression.” Between 400 and 500 years af¬
ter St Alban’s death, Offa, king of the Mercians, built
a very large and stately monastery to his memory 5 and
the town of St Albans in Hertfordshire takes its name
from our protomartyr.
ALB ANA, in Ancient Geography, a sea-port town
of Albania, on the Caspian sea, between the rivers
Casius and Albanus j now called Pachu, or Pachy,
giving name to the Caspian sea, viz. Mer de Palm. E.
Long. 49. o. N. Lat. 4°* °-
ALBANENSES, in Church History, the same with
Albigenses. See Albigenses.
S ALBANI,
ALB [ 561 ] * ALB
ALBANI, in Roman antiquity, a college of the Sa¬
in, or priests of Mars j so called from Mount Albanus,
the place of their residence. See Salii.
AlBANI, Francis, a celebrated painter, born in
Bologna, March 17. 1578. His father was a silk
merchant, and intended to bring up his son to that
business j but Albani having a strong inclination to
painting, when his father died, devoted himself entirely
to that art, though then but twelve years of age. He
first studied under Denys Calvert; Guido Rheni being
at the same time under this master, with whom Albani
contracted a very great friendship. Calvert drew but
one profile for Albani, and afterwards left him entirely
to the care of Guido j under whom he made great im¬
provement, his fellow-disciple instructing him with the
utmost humanity and good humour. He followed
Guido to the school of the Caracci : but a little af¬
ter their friendship for each other began to cool j
which was owing perhaps to the pride of Albani, who
could not bear to see Guido surpass him, or to the jea¬
lousy of Guido at finding Albani made such rapid pro¬
gress. They certainly endeavoured to eclipse one ano¬
ther 5 for when Guido had set up a beautiful altar piece,
Albani would oppose to it some fine picture of his :
thus did they behave for some time, and yet spoke of
each other with the highest esteem. Albani, after ha¬
ving greatly improved himself under the Caracci, went
to Rome, where he continued many years, and married
in that city j but his wife dying in childbed, at the
earnest request of his relations he returned to Bologna,
where he entexed again into the state of matrimony.
His second wife (Doralice) was well descended, but
had very little fortune j which he perfectly disregarded,
so strongly was he captivated with her beauty and
good sense. Albani, besides the satisfaction of posses¬
sing an accomplished wife, reaped likewise the advan¬
tage of having a most beautiful model j so that he had
now no occasion to make use of any other woman to
paint a Venus, the Gi’aces, Nymphs, and other deities,
whom he took a particular delight in representing.
.His wife answered this purpose admirably well; for
besides her bloom of youth, and the beauty of her per¬
son, he discovered in her so much modesty, so many
graces and perfections, so well adapted to painting,
that it was impossible for him to meet with a more fi¬
nished woman. She afterwards bi’ought him several
hoys, all extremely beautiful and finely proportioned ;
so that she and her children were the originals of his
most agreeable and graceful compositions. Doralice
was so conformable to his intentions, that she took a
pleasure in setting the children in different attitudes,
holding them naked, and sometimes suspended by
strings, when Albani would draw them in a thousand
different ways. It was from them, too, that the famous
sculptors Flamand and Argaldi modelled their little
Cupids.
Albani was of a happy temper and disposition $ his
paintings, says Malvasia, breathing nothing but con¬
tent and joy. Happy in a force of mind that con¬
quered every uneasiness, his poetical pencil carried him
through the most agreeable gaixlens to Paphos and Cy-
theria : those delightful scenes brought him over the
lofty Parnassus to the delicious abodes of Apollo and
the Muses : whence what Du Fresnoy says of the fa¬
mous Giulio Romano may be justly applied to Albani:
Vol. I. Part II. f
Taught from a child in the bright Muses grots,
He open’d all the treasures of Parnassus,
And in the lively poeti’y of painting
The myst’ries of Apollo has reveal’d.
He died the 4th of October 1660, to the great grief
of all his friends and the whole city of Bologna. Mal-
yasia has pi'eserved some verses of Francisco de Lemene,
intended for his monument j the sense whereof is,
“ That the mortal remains of the illustrious Albani, he
who gave life to shade, lie interred in this tomb: the
earth never produced so wonderful an artist, or a hand
equal to his immortal one j which gave colours to the
soul, and a soul to colours. Prometheus animated clay,
and gave life by means of the sun ; but Albani animated
merely by the assistance of shade.” He was very fa¬
mous in his lifetime, and had been visited by the great¬
est painters. Several princes honoured him with letters y
and amongst the rest King Charles I. who invited him
to England by a letter signed with his own hand.
ALBANIA, a province of Turkey in Europe, on the
gulf of Venice, bounded by Livadia on the south, by
Thessaly and Macedonia on the east, and on the north
by Bosnia and Dalmatia. The people are strong, large,
courageous, and good horsemen; but are said to be of
a thievish disposition. The grand seignior procures ex¬
cellent soldiers from hence, particularly cavalry, known
by the name of Arnauts. There are several large
towns in this province: and the inhabitants ai'e almost
all Christians of the Greek church, and descended from
the ancient Scythians. Formerly it was pax't of the
kingdom of Macedonia. Their chief manufacture is
carpets. The principal places are Durazzo, Velona,
Antivari, Scutari, Croya, Alesso, Dibra, Dolcigno,
and Albanapoli. Long, from 19° to 22° E. j Lat. from
39° t0 436 N- See Albania, Supplement.
Albania, a country of Asia, bounded on the west
by Iberia ; on the east by the Caspian sea 3 on the north
by Mount Caucasus 3 on the south by Armenia, and the
river Cyrus, now Kur 3 which, springing from the
Moschian mountains that separate Colchis from Arme¬
nia, and watering the country of Mokan, receives the
Aragus and Araxes, and falls into the Caspian sea
within a small distance from the southern borders of
this country.—The whole country formerly called Alba¬
nia, now goes under the names of Schirwan and F.ast
Georgia, and is extremely fruitful and pleasant. The
ancient historians take notice of the Albanian men
being tall, strong-bodied, and, genei'ally speaking, of
a very graceful appeai’ance 3 far excelling all other na¬
tions in comeliness as well as stature. Modern travel¬
lers take no notice of the appearance of the men 3 but
extol the beauty of the women, which seems to be un¬
noticed by the ancients. The Albanians were ancient¬
ly an independent and pretty powerful people 3 but
we find no mention made of their kings till the reign
of Alexander the Great, to whom the king of Alba¬
nia is said to have presented a dog of an extraordinary
fierceness and size.—It does not appear that the Alba¬
nians were ever conquered by the Romans, even when
their power was at the greatest height 3 though when
they ventured to engage in war with that powerful em¬
pire, they were always defeated, as might naturally be
expected.
ALB AND, a town of Italy, on a lake of the same
4 B name,
ALB [ 562 ] ALB
Atbano, name» ,n the Campagna oi Rome. It was called by
Alban’s’, the ancients Albanum Pompeii, and built out ol the
 v  ruins of the ancient Alba Longa, which was destroyed
by Tullus Hostilius. It stands within twelve miles
south-east of Rome, and for the pleasantness of its si¬
tuation is the summer retirement of a great many Ro¬
man princes. It is likewise the see of a bishop, who is
one of the six senior cardinals. The town is famous
for its excellent wine, and the ruins of a mausoleum,
which, according to the tradition of the inhabitants,
was made for Ascanius. The prospect from the garden
of the Capauchins is extremely pleasant, taking in the
Campania of Rome, and terminating in a full view of
the Tuscan sea. Close by the town lies the Alban lake,
of an oval figure, and about seven miles in circumfe¬
rence, which, by reason of the high mountains round it,
looks like the area of a great amphitheatre. It abounds
with excellent fish, and over against the hermitage it is
said to be unfathomable. The mountain of Albano is
called Monte Cavo; on the top of which was a celebra¬
ted temple dedicated to Jupiter and Juno. Near the
Capuchins there is another convent of Francisans j and
not far from thence the palace of Cardinal Barberini,
remarkable for very pleasant gardens, with the ruins of
ancient baths, and several old fragments of mosaic
work. E. Long. 12. 30. N. Lat. 41. 5°-
Albano is also a town in the kingdom of Naples, re¬
markable for the fertility of the surrounding territory,
and for the nobility of the inhabitants.
ALBAN’S, Saint, a market town of Hertfordshire,
on the north-west road from London, at the distance
of 21 miles, and containing 3653 inhabitants in 1811.
This town sends two members to parliament, gives
the title of duke to the noble family of Beauclerc,
and has one of the best markets for wheat in Eng¬
land. St Alban’s is seated near the ruins of the an¬
cient Roman city, by Tacitus called Verulam; and
. by the Saxons Watlingcester, because it is seated on
the road called Watling-street. Nothing now remains
of Verulam but the ruins of old walls j in the fields
adjacent to which they continue to find Roman coins
as they formerly found tesselated pavements. In me¬
mory of St Alban, Offa, king of the Mercians, anno
795, erected an abbey, calling it St Alban's; and near
it the town of the same name was afterwards built.
The church of the abbey is remaining to this day :
time and the weather have made it look like stone
on the outside ; but if you break a bit off, the red¬
ness of the brick immediately appears. When the
monasteries were dissolved, the townsmen paid 400I.
to prevent its being levelled with the ground, and have
since converted it into a parish-church, which, for its
largeness, beauty, and antiquity, claims a particular re¬
gard. It had a very noble font of solid brass, in which
the children of the kings of Scotland were used to be
baptized j and was brought from Edinburgh, by Sir
Philip Lea, when the city was in flames ; but in the
times of the late civil wars it was taken away. Not
many years since, a tomb was discovered in this church,
said to be that of Humphry duke of Gloucester: when
the leaden coffin was opened, the body was pretty en¬
tire, being preserved in a sort of pickle. There was
a stately cross in the middle of the town, as there was
in many other places, where Queen Eleanor’s body
2
rested when it was brought out of the north for inter- Allan's
ment at Westminster j but it is now demolished. W. jj
Long. O. 12. N. Lat. 51. 44. Albategni
ALBANUS MONS, in Ancient Geography, now cal- v ~~
led Mont Albano, 26 miles from Rome, near where
Alba Longa stood.
Albanus mons, in Ancient Geography, to the north
of Istria, called Albius by Strabo j the extremity of the
Alps, which, together with the mountains to the east,
joining it, called Montes Bcebii, separate the farther
Liburnia and Dalmatia from Pannonia.
ALBANY, a fortress belonging to the British, seat¬
ed on the S. W. of Hudson’s bay. W. Long. 82. 10.
N. Lat. 59. 20.
Albany, a town of North America, the capital of a
county of the same name, in the province of New-York.
It is a well built place, and contained 12,000 inhabi¬
tants in 1810. It is situated upon the Hudson river,
and though 165 miles from the sea, sloops of 80 tons
come up to it. W. Long. 44. 29. N. Lat. 42. 30.
ALBARAZIN, a strong town, and one of the most
ancient of the kingdom of Arragon in Spain. It is
seated on an eminence, near the river Guadalquivir, a
little below its source, and on the frontiers of Valen¬
cia and New Castile. It is the seat of a bishop, and
produces the best wool in all Arragon. It is about
100 miles east of Madrid. E. Long. 1. 20. N. Lat.
40. 32.
ALBARII, in antiquity, properly denoted those who
gave the whitening to earthen vessels, &c. In which
sense they stood contradistinguished from Dealbalores,
who whitened walls.
ALBARIUM opus, in the ancient building, the
incrustation or covering of the roofs ol houses with
white plaster, made of mere lime. This is otherwise
called opus album. It differed from Tectorium, which
is a common name given to all roofing or ceiling, inclu¬
ding even that formed ol lime and sand, or lime and
marble ; whereas Albarium was restrained to that made
of lime alone.
ALBATEGNI, an Arabic prince of Batan in Me¬
sopotamia, and a celebrated astronomer, who lived about
the year of Christ 880, as appears by his observations.
He is also called Muhammed ben Geber Albatam, Ma¬
homet the son of Geber, and Muhamedes Aractensis.
He made astronomical observations at Antioch, and at
Racah or Aracta, a town of Chaldea. He is highly
spoken of by Dr Halley, as a man of admirable genius,
and an excellent observer.
Instead of the tables of Ptolemy, which were imper¬
fect, he computed new ones : these were adapted to the
meridian of Aracta or Racah, and were long used as
the best among the Arabs. Albategni composed in
Arabic a work under the title of The Science of the
Stars, comprising all parts of astronomy, according to
his own observations and those of Ptolemy. This work
was translated into Latin by Plato of Tibur, and pub¬
lished at Nuremberg in I537> w^h some additions and
demonstrations of Regiomontanus. It was reprinted at
Bologna in 1645, with this author’s notes. Dr Hal¬
ley detected many faults in these editions: Philos.
Trans, for 1693, N° 204. In this work, Albategni
gives the motion of the sun’s apogee since Ptolemy’s
time, as well as the motion of the stars, which he
makes
ALB [ 563 ] ALB
ibategni makes one degree in 70 years. He made the longi-
|| " tude of the first star of Aries to be 180 2' j and the ob-
Uberti. fiquity of the ecliptic 230 35'. Upon Albategni’s ob-
servations were founded the Alphonsine tables of the
moon’s motion. (Hutton's Math. Diet?)
ALB ATI EQUI, an appellation given to such horses,
in the games of the ancient circus, as wore white fur¬
niture.
ALBATROSS, in Ornithology, a species of the di-
omedea. See Diomedea, Ornithology Index.
ALBAZIN, a town of Greater Tartary, with a
strong castle. It is situated upon the river Amur, or
Yamour, and belongs to the Russians. E. Long.
103. 30. N. Lat. 54. o.
ALBE, a small piece of money, current in Germa¬
ny, worth only a French sol and seven deniers.
ALBEMARLE, or Aumale, a town of France,
in Upper Normandy, now in the department of Seine
Inferior, from whence the noble family of Keppel takes
the title of earl. It is seated on the declivity of a hill,
on the confines of Picardy, 35 miles north-east of
Rouen, and 70 north-west of Paris. E. Long. T. 42.
N. Lat. 49. 50.
Albemarle, the most northern part of the province
of North Carolina in America.
ALBENGUA, a town of Italy, in the territory of
Genoa. It is the see of a bishop, and is a very ancient
handsome town, but not well peopled on account of the
insalubrity of the air. It is seated in a very beautiful
plain, which is well cultivated ; and the outside of the
town is surrounded with olive trees. It is a seaport,
about 30 miles south-west of Genoa. E. Long. 8. 13.
N. Lat. 44. 4.
ALBERNUO, a kind of camlet, brought from the
Levant by the way of Marseilles.
ALBERONI, Julius, the son of a poor gardener
in the suburbs of Placentia, born in 1664 ; who, by
his great abilities and good fortune, rose from this low
origin to the employment of first minister of state at
the court of Spain, and to the dignity of cardinal. He
roused that kingdom out of the lethargy it had sunk
into for a century past; awakened the attention, and
raised the astonishment of all Europe, by his projects;
one of which was to set the Pretender on the throne of
Great Britain. He was at length deprived of his em¬
ployment, and banished to Rome. He died in 1752,
at the great age of 89. His Testament Politique, col¬
lected from his memoirs and letters, was published at
Lausanne in 1753.
ALBERT, Margrave of Brandenburg, and the last
grand master of the Teutonic order, laid aside the ha¬
bit of his order, embraced Lutheranism, and conclu¬
ded a peace at Cracow in 1525, by which he was ac¬
knowledged duke of the east part of Prussia (formerly
called for that reason Ducal Prussia), but to be held as
a fief of Poland, and to descend to his male heirs. See
Prussia.
ALBERTI, Leone Battista, was descended
from a noble family of Florence ; and was perfectly
acquainted with painting, sculpture, and architecture.
He wrote of all three in Latin; but his studies did not
permit him to leave any thing considerable behind him
in painting. He was employed by Pope Nicholas V.
in his buildings, which he executed in a beautiful man¬
ner ; and his work on architecture, which consists of
10 books, is greatly esteemed. He also wrote some Alberti
treatises of morality, and a piece of arithmetic. He
died in 1485. Albl.
ALBERTISTS, a sect of scholastics, so named from '-“-"v'—■
their leader Albertus Magnus.
ALBERTUS, Magnus, a Dominican friar, and
afterwards bishop of Ratisbon, was one of the most
learned men and most famous doctors of the 13th cen¬
tury. He is said to have acted as a man-midwife; and
some have been highly offended that one of his pro¬
fession should follow such an employment. A book
entitled De Hatura Rerum, of which he was reputed
the author, gave rise to this report. In this treatise
there are several instructions formidwives, and so much
skill shown in their art, that one would think the au¬
thor could not have arrived at it without having him¬
self practised : but the advocates for Albert say he
was not the writer thereof, nor of that other piece De
Secretis Mulierum; in which there are many phrases
and expressions unavoidable on such a subject, which
gave great offence, and raised a clamour against the
supposed author. It must be acknowledged, however,
that there are, in his Comment upon the Master of Sen¬
tences, some questions concerning the practice of con¬
jugal duty, in which he has used some words rather
too gross for chaste and delicate ears ; but they allege,
what he himself used to say in his own vindication,
that he came to the knowledge of so many monstrous
things at confession, that it was impossible to avoid
touching upon such questions. Albert was certainly
a man of a most curious and inquisitive turn of mind,
which gave rise to other accusations brought against
him. It is said, that he laboured to find out the phi¬
losopher’s stone ; that he was a magician ; and that he
made a machine in the shape of a man, which was an
oracle to him, and explained all the difficulties he pro¬
posed. He had great knowledge in the mathematics,
and by his skill in that science might probably have
formed a head with springs capable of articulating
sounds ; like to the machines of Boetius, of which Cas-
siodorus has said, “ Metals lowe; the birds of Dio-
medes trumpet in brass ; the brazen serpent hisses;
counterfeited swallows chatter, and such as have no
proper note, from brass send forth harmonious music.”
John Matthseus de Luna, in his treatise De Rerum In-
ventoribus, has attributed the invention of fire-arms to
Albert; but in this he is confuted by Naude, in his
Apologie des Grandes Hommes. Albert died at Co¬
logne in 1280. His works were printed at Lyons, in
1651, in 21 volumes folio.
ALBERTUS, a gold coin, worth about fourteen
French livres : it was coined during the administration
of Albertus archduke of Austria.
ALBESIA, in antiquity, a kind of shields, other¬
wise called Decumana. See Decumana.
ALB I, a city of France, in the department of the
Tarn, the capital of the Albigeois, in Upper Langue¬
doc. The cathedral is dedicated to St Cecilia, and
has one of the finest choirs in the kingdom. Here is a
very valuable silver shrine, of exquisite workmanship, of
the mosaic kind : it contains the reliques of St Clair,
the first bishop of this city. The chapel of this pre¬
tended saint is magnificent, and adorned with paint¬
ings. The Lice is a fine large walk without the city :
what distinguishes this from all others, is a terrace
4 B 2 above
ALB [ 564 ] ALB
\H)i, above a deep mall, which serves instead of a fosse ; it
4ibigcnses. is bordered with two rows of very fine trees, which
are kept in excellent order. There are four gates,
through which you may view all the beauties of a de¬
lightful plain. At one end of this is the convent of
the Dominicans. The archbishop’s palace is very beau¬
tiful. The river washes its walls, and serves both for
an ornament and defence. This city is seated on the
river Tarn, 35 miles north-east of Toulouse, and con¬
tained 9860 inhabitants by the last census. E. Long.
2. 9. N. Lat. 43. 56.
The Albigeois is a small territory, about twenty-
seven miles in length, and twenty in breadth, abounding
in corn, wood, grapes, saffron, plums, and sheep 5 and
the inhabitants have a great trade in dried prunes,
grapes, a coarse sort of cloth, and wine of Gaillac.
These wines are the only sort hereabouts that are fit
for exportation : they are carried down to Bourdeaux,
and generally sold to the British. They have likewise
several coal mines.
ALBIGENSES, in church history, a sect or party
of reformers, about Toulouse and Albigeois in Lan¬
guedoc, who sprung up in the I2th centuxy, and distin¬
guished themselves by their opposition to the discipline
and ceremonies of the Romish church.
This sect had their name, it is supposed, either by
reason there were great numbers of them in the diocese
of Albi, or because they were condemned by a coun¬
cil held in that city. In effect, it does not appear that
they were known by this name before the holding of
that council. The Albigenseu were also called Albiani,
Albigesei, Albii, and Albanenses, though some distinguish
these last from them. Other names given to them
are Henncians, Abelardists, Bulgarians, &c. j some on
account of the qualities they assumed ; others on that
of the country from whence it is pretended they were
derived 5 and others on account of persons of note who
adopted their cause, as Peter de Brius, Arnold de
Bresse, Abelard, Henry, &c. Berengarius, if not Wick-
liff himself, is by some ranked in the number. The
Albigenses are frequently confounded with the Walden-
ses ; from whom, however, they differ in many respects,
both as being prior to them in point of time, as having
their origin in a different country, and as being char¬
ged with divers heresies, particularly Manicheism, from
■whence the TFaldenses are exempt. But several Prote¬
stant writers have vindicated them from that imputa¬
tion. Dr Allix shows that a great number of Mani-
chees did spread over the western countries from Bulga¬
ria ; and settled in Italy, Languedoc, and other places,
where there were also Albigenses ; by which means, be¬
ing both under the imputation of heresy, they came,
either by ignorance or malice, to be confounded, and
called by the same common name, though in reality en¬
tirely different.
Other errors imputed to them by their opponents,
the monks of those days, were, That they admitted
two Christs ; one evil, who appeared on earth $ the
other good, who has not yet appeared : That they de¬
nied the resurrection of the body j and maintained hu¬
man souls to be demons imprisoned in our bodies, by
way of punishment for their sins : That they condemn¬
ed all the sacraments of the church j rejected baptism
as useless ; held the eucharist in abhorrence •, exclu¬
ded the use of confessions and penance 5 maintained
marriage unlawful j laughed at purgatory, prayers for^lbig
the dead, images, crucifixes, &c. There were likewise —
said to be two classes of them ; the Perfect and the Be¬
lievers. The perfect boasted of their living in conti¬
nence, of eating neither flesh, eggs, nor cheese. The
believers lived like other men, and were even loose in
their morals 5 but they were persuaded they should be
saved by the faith of the perfect, and that none were
damned who received imposition of hands from them.
But from these charges also they are generally acquitted
by Protestants, who consider them as the pious inven¬
tions of the Romish church, whose members deem it
meritorious by any means to blacken heretics.
However this be, the Albigenses grew so formidable,
that the Catholics agreed upon a holy league or cru¬
sade against them. They were at first supported by
Raimond, count of Toulouse. Pope Innocent HI. de¬
sirous to put a stop to their progress, sent a legate into
their country j which failing, he stirred up Philip Au¬
gustus, king of France, and the other princes and
great men of the kingdom, to make war upon them.
Upon this the count of Toulouse, who had sided with
them, made his submission to the pope, and went over
to the Catholics : but soon after, finding himself plun¬
dered by the crusaders, he declared war against them,
and was joined by the king of Arragon. His army
was defeated at the siege of Muret, where he himself
was killed, and the defeat followTed by the surrender of
the city of Toulouse, and the conquest of the greatest
part of Languedoc and Provence. His son Raymond
succeeded him •, who agreed with the king and the pope
to set up the inquisition in his estates, and to extirpate
the Albigenses. In an assembly held at Milan, the
archbishop of Toulouse drew up articles j agreeable to
which the count made a most ample declaration against
them, which he published at Toulouse in 1253. From
this time the Albigenses dwindled by little and little,
till the time of the Reformation •, when such of them
as were left fell in with the Vaudois, and became con¬
formable to the doctrine of Zuinglius and the discipline
of Geneva.
Albigenses is also a name sometimes given to the
followers of Peter Vaud, or Waldo $ and hence syno¬
nymous with what we more properly call Waldenses, or
Poor Men of Lyons. In this sense the word is applied
by Camerarius, Thuanus, and several other writers.
The reason seems to be, that the two parties agreed in
their opposition to the papal innovations and encroach¬
ments, though in divers other respects said to be dif¬
ferent enough. The bishop of Meaux labours hard to
support a distinction between the two sects, alleging
that the Albigenses were heretics and Manicheesj
■whereas the Waldenses were only schismatics, not here¬
tics ; being sound as to articles of faith, and only se¬
parating from the church of Rome on account of forms
and discipline. Dr Allix endeavours to set aside the
distinction : and shows, that both of them held the same
opinions, and were equally condemned and held for
heretics \ and this not for points of faith, but for de¬
claiming against the papal tyranny and idolatry, and
holding the pope to be the Antichrist j which last, ac¬
cording to M. de Meaux, constitutes nothing less than
Manicheism. In this sense the Lollards and Wick-
liffites in England were not only Albigenses but Ma-
nichees,
ALBINTEMELIUM,
ALB [ 5
miteme- ALBINTEMELIUM, Albintimilium (Taci-
]ii'm tus) ; or, at full length, Albium Intemelium (Pli-
!' ny, Strabo) 5 now Vintimiglia, situated in the south-
' b‘a0‘' . west of the territory of Genoa, near the bdialers of the
county ol Nice, with a port on the Mediterranean, at
the mouth of the rivulet liotta, about half-way be¬
tween Monaco and St Remo. E. Long. 7. 40. N. Lat.
43- 11- .
ALBIOECE, or Alebece (Pliny, Strabo) ; other¬
wise called Reii Apollinares, from their superstitious
worship of Apollo ; also Civitas Reiensium ; now Riez,
in Provence, about 18 leagues to the north east of Tou¬
lon, on the north side of the rivulet Verdon 5 was ori¬
ginally a Roman colony (Inscription). It is sometimes
written Regium. The people were called Albici, { Cx-
sar). E. Long. 1. o. N. Lat. 43. 20.
ALB INI, in antiquity, the workmen employed in
what was called Opus Albarium. They make a differ¬
ent profession from the dealbaiores or whiteners.
ALBINOS, the name by which the Portuguese call
the white Moors, who are looked upon by the negroes
as monsters. They at a distance might be taken for
Europeans ; but when you come near them, their
white colour appears like that of persons affected with
a leprosy.
In Saussure’s Voyages dajis les Alpes, is the follow¬
ing account of the two boys, at Chamouni, who have
been called Albinos. “ The elder, who was at the end
of the year *7^5 Hbout twenty or one-and-twenty years
of age, had a dull look, with lips somewhat thick, but
nothing else in Ins features to distinguish him from
other people. I he other, who is two years younger, is
rather a more agreeable figure j he is gay and spright¬
ly, and seems not to want wit. But their eyes are not
blue ; the iris is of a very distinct rose colour ; the pu¬
pil, too, when viewed in the light, seems decidedly red j
which seems to demonstrate, that the interior mem¬
branes are deprived of the uvea, and of that black mu¬
cous matter that should line them. Their hair, their
eye-brows, and eye-lashes, the down upon their skin,
were all in their infancy, of the most perfect milk-
white colour, and very fine; but their hair is now of
a reddish cast, and has grown pretty strong. Their
sight, too, is somewhat strengthened \ though they ex¬
aggerate to strangers their aversion for the light, and
half shut the eyelids, to give themselves a more extra¬
ordinary appearance. But those who, like me, have
seen them in their infancy, before they Avere tutored to
this deceit, and when too few people came to Cha¬
mouni to made this affectation profitable to them, can
attest that then they were not very much offended with
the light of day. At that time they were so little de¬
sirous of exciting the curiosity of strangers, that they
hid themselves to avoid such 5 and it was necessary to
do a sort of violence to them before they could be pre¬
vailed on to allow themselves to be inspected. It is al¬
so well known at Chamouni, that when they were of a
proper age they were unable to tend the cattle like the
other children at the same age ; and that one of their
uncles maintained them out of charity, at a time of life
when others were capable of gaining a subsistence by
their labour.
“ I am therefore of opinion, that we may consider
these two lads as two albinos j for if they have not the
thick lips and flat noses of the white negroes, it is be-
3.
65 ] ALB
cause they are albinos of Europe, not of Africa. This
infirmity affects the eyes, the complexion, and the co¬
lour oi the hair j it even diminishes the strength, but
tioes not alter the conformation of the features. Be¬
sides, there are certainly in this malady various de¬
grees •, some may have less strength, and be less able
to endure the light: but these circumstances in those
of Chamouni are marked with characters sufficiently
strong to entitle them to the unhappy advantage of be¬
ing classed with that variety of the human species deno¬
minated albinos.
M hen nature presents the same appearance often,
and with circumstances varied, we may at last discover
some general law, or some relation which that appear¬
ance has with known causes ; but when a fact is so sin¬
gular and so rare, as that of those albinos, it gives but
little scope to a conjecture : and it is very difficult to
verify those by which we attempt to explain it.
“ f first imagined that this disease might be refer¬
red to a particular sort of organic debility ; that a re¬
laxation of the lymphatic vessels within the eye might
suffer the globules of the blood to enter too abundantly
into the iris, the uvea, and even into the retina,
which might occasion the redness of the iris and of the
pupil. Ihe same debility seemed also to account for
the intolerance of the light, and for the whiteness of
the hair.
“ But a learned physiologist, M. Blumenbacb, pro¬
fessor in the university at Gottingen, who has made
many profound observations on the organs of sight,
and has considered with great attention the albinos
of Chamouni, attributes their infirmity to a different
cause.
“ The study of comparative anatomy has furnished
him with frequent opportunities of observing this phe¬
nomenon ; he has found it in brutes, in white dogs,
and in owls j he says, it is generally to be seen in the
warm-blooded animals j but that he has never met with
it in those with cold blood.
“ From his observations, he is of opinion, that the
redness of the iris, and of the other internal parts of
the eye, as well as the extreme sensibility that accom¬
panies this redness, is owing to the total privation of
that brown or blackish mucus, which, about the fifth
week after conception, covers all the interior parts of
the eye in its sound state. He observes, that Simon
Pontius, in his treatise de Colombus Oculorum, long
ago remarked, that in blue eyes the interior mem¬
branes were less abundantly provided with this black
mucus, and were therefore more sensible to the action
of light. This sensibility of blue eyes agrees very
well, says M. Blumenbach, with northern people, du¬
ring their long twilight j while, on the contrary, the
deep black in the eyes of negroes enables them to
support the splendour of the sunbeams in the torrid
Albinos.
zone.
u As to the connection between this red colour of
their eyes, and the whiteness of the skin and hair, the
same learned physiologist says, that it is owing to a si¬
milarity of structure, consensus ex similitudinefabrics.
He asserts, that this black mucus is formed only in the
delicate cellular substance, which has numerous blood¬
vessels contiguous to it, but contains no fat; like the
inside of the eye, the skin of negroes, the spotted pa¬
late of several domestic animals, &c. And, lastly, be
says3 .
ALB [
Albinos says that the colour of the hair generally corresponds
—v—' with that of the iris. Gazette Litt. de Gotmgue, Oct.
1 ^“At the very time that M. Blumenbaeh was read¬
ing this memoir to the Royal Society of Gottingen,
M. Buzzi, surgeon to the hospital at Milan, an eleve
of the celebrated anatomist Moscati, published in the
Opuscoli Scelti de Milan, 1784, tom. ii. p. n. a very
interesting memoir, in which he demonstrates by dissec¬
tion what Blumenbach had only supposed. .
“ A peasant of about 30 years of age died in the
hospital of Milan of a pulmonary disorder. His body,
being exposed to view, was exceedingly remarkable by
the uncommon whiteness of the skin, ol the hair, or the
beard, and of all the other covered parts of the body.
M. Buzzi, who had long desired an opportunity of dis¬
secting such a subject, immediately seized upon this.
He found the iris of the eyes perfectly white, and the
pupil of a rose colour. The eyes were dissected with
the greatest possible care, and were found entirely des¬
titute of that black membrane which anatomists call
the uvea: it was not to be seen either behind the iris
or under the retina. Within the eye there was only
found the choroid coat extremely thin, and tinged of
a pale red colour, by vessels covered with discoloured
blood. What was more extraordinary, the skm, when
detached from different parts of the body, seemed al¬
most entirely divested of the rete mucosum: maceration
did not discover the least vestige of this, mot even in
the wrinkles of the abdomen, where it is most abundant
and most visible. . -
“ M. Buzzi likewise accounts for the whiteness of
the skin and of the hair, from the absence of the rete
mucosum, which, according to him, gives the colour
to the cuticle, and to the hairs that are scatteied over
it. Among other proofs of this opinion, he alleges a
well-known fact, that if the skin of the blackest horse
be accidentally destroyed in any part of the body, the
hairs that afterwards grow on that part are always
white, because the rete mucosum which tinges those
hairs is never regenerated with the skin.
“ The proximate cause of the whiteness of albinos,
and the colour of their eyes, seems therefore pretty evi-
dentlv to depend on the absence of the rete mucosum .
But what is the remote cause ?
“ In the first place, it seems probable that men af¬
fected with this infirmity form no distinct species, for
they are produced from parents that have dark skins
and black eyes. M^hat is it then that destroys the
rete mucosum in such persons? M. Buzzi relates a sin¬
gular fact, which seems to throw some light on this sub-
ject.
“ A woman of Milan, called Calcagni, had seven
sons. The two eldest had brown hair, and black eyes ;
the three next had white skins, white hair, and red
eyes; the two last resembled the two eldest. It was
said that this woman, during the three pregnancies
that produced the albinos, had a continual and immo¬
derate appetite for milk, which she took in great quan¬
tities : but that when she was with child of the other
four children, she had no such desire. It is not how¬
ever ascertained, that this preternatural appetite was not
itself the effect of a certain heat, or internal disease,
which destroyed the vett mucosum m the children be¬
fore they were born. *
566 ] ALB
“ The albinos of Chamouni are also the offspring of Albinoi
parents with dark skins and black eyes. They have 11
three sisters by the same father and mother, who are , A^bil1«s.
also brunettes. One of them that I saw had the eyes ir*'
of a dark brown, and the hair almost black. They
are said, however, to be all afflicted with a weakness
of sight. When the lads are married, it will be cu¬
rious to observe how the eyes of their children will be
formed. The experiment would be particularly deci¬
sive if they were married to women like themselves.
But this faulty conformation seems to be more rare
among women than among men j for the four of Mi¬
lan, the two of Chamouni, the one described by Mau-
pertuis, the one by Helvetius, and almost all the in¬
stances of these singular productions, have been of our
sex. It is known, however, that there are races of
men and women affected with this disease, and that
these races perpetuate themselves in Guinea, in Java, at
Panama, &c.
“ Upon the whole, this degeneration does not seem
to be owing to the air of the mountains j for though I
have traversed the greatest part of the Alps, and the
other mountains of Europe, these are the only indivi¬
duals of that kind that I ever met with.”
ALBINOYA^NUS, a Latin poet, whom Ovid sur-
named the Divine. There is now nothing of his extant,
except an elegy on Drusus, and another on the death of
JVIccsdicis*
ALBINUS, Bernhard Siegfred, a celebrated
physician and anatomist, was born of an illustrious fa¬
mily at Francfort on the Oder in 1697. His father
was then professor of the practice of medicine in the
university of Francfort 5 but in the year 1702 he re- *
paired to Leyden, being nominated professor of anato¬
my and surgery in that university. Here his son had
an opportunity of studying under the most eminent
masters in Europe, who, from the singular abilities
which he then displayed, had no difficulty in prognos¬
ticating his future eminence. But while he was di¬
stinguished in every branch of literature, his attention
was particularly turned to anatomy and surgery. Hi^
peculiar attachment to these branches of knowledge
gained him the intimate friendship of Ruysch and Ilau,
who at that time flourished in Leyden 5 and the latter,
so justly celebrated as a lithotomist, is said to have sel¬
dom performed a capital operation without inviting
him to be present. Having finished his studies at Ley¬
den, he went to Paris, where he attended the lectures
ofDu Verney, Vaillant, and other celebrated profes¬
sors. But he had scarce spent a year there when he was
invited by the curators of the university of Leyden to
be a lecturer of anatomy and surgery at that place.
Though contrary to his own inclination, he complied
with their request, and upon that occasion was created
doctor of physic without any examination. Soon after,
upon the death of his father, he was appointed to suc¬
ceed him as a professor of anatomy and upon being
admitted into that office on the 9th of November 1721,
he delivered an oration, Devera via adJabricev huniani
corporis cognitionem ducente; which was heard with
universal approbation. In the capacity of a professor,
he not only bestowed the greatest attention upon the
instruction of the youth intrusted to his care, but in the
improvement of the medical art. With this view he
published many important discoveries of his own j and
alb [ 567 ] ALB
ilbinus by elegant editions, turned the attention of physicians when the angel Gabriel was come to conduct him to Alberak
|j to works of merit, which might otherwise have been heaven. jj
neglected. l>y these means his fame was soon extended AXjBORO, in Zoologyt a name by which the ery* Albumen,
over Luiope 5 and the societies of London, Petersburgh, thrinus, a small red fish caught in the Mediterranean, is 1 v~* 3
and Haerlem, cheerfully received him as an associate. commonly known in the markets of Rome and Venice..
In 1745, he was appointed professor of the practice of ALBOURG, a town of l)enmark, in North Jut-
medicine at Leyden, and was succeeded in the anato- land, capital of the diocese of the same name, and a
niical chair by his brother Jrid. Bern. Albinus. He bishop’s see. It has this name, which signifies ecZ-fonw,
was twice rector of the university, and as often he re- on account of the great number of eels taken here. It
fused that high honour when it was voluntarily offered is seated on a canal, 10 miles from the sea, 30 north
him. At length, worn out by long service and intense of Wiburg, and 50 north of Arhuys. It has an ex¬
study, he died on the 9th of September 1770, in the change for merchants, and a safe and deep harbour.
74tn year of his age. . I hey have a considerable trade in herrings and corn j
ALBION, the ancient name of Britain. and a manufactory of guns, pistols, saddles, and gloves.
New Albion, a name given by Sir Francis Drake to E. Long. 9. 50. N. Lat. 57. 2.
California, on the north-west coast of America, which ALBR1C1US, born at London, was a great phi-
he discovered and took possession of in the year 1578- losopher, a learned and able physician, and well ver-
Captain Cook visited this coast in 17*8, and landed in sed in all the branches of polite literature. He lived
a place situated in N. Lat. 44. 33. E. Long. 235. 20. in the nth century, and wrote several works in
In the year 1792, it was again visited by Captain Van- Latin 5 particularly, 1. Of the Origin of the Gods,
couver, who was employed in surveying the western 2. The Virtues of the Ancients. 3. The Nature of
coast of North America. The name is now applied to Poison, &c.
a country farther north than California, but without ALBUCA, Bastard Star-of-Bethlehem. See
any definite boundaries. Botany Index.
ALBIREO, in Astronomy, a star of the third or ALBUGINEA tunica, in Anatomy, the third or
fourth magnitude, in the constellation Cygnus. innermost coat or covering of the testes j it is likewise
in Ancient Geography, now the Elbe, the name given to one of the coats of the eye.
which divided ancient Gennany in the middle, and was ALBUGINEUS, in Anatomy, a term sometimes ap-
the boundary of this country, so far as it was known to plied to the aqueous humour of the eye.
the Romans; all beyond they owned to be uncertain, no ALBUGO, or Leucoma, in Medicine, a distemper
Roman except Drusus and liberius having penetrated occasioned by a white opaque spot growing on the tor¬
so far as the Elbe. In the year of the building of the nea of the eye, and obstructing vision. See Medicine
city 744, or about six years before Christ, Domitius Index.
Ahenobarbus, crossing the river with a few, merited ALBUM, in Antiquity, a kind of white table or re-
the ornaments of a triumph ; so glorious was it reckon- gister, w'herein the names of certain magistrates, public
ed at Rome to have opened this passage. In the fol- transactions, &c. were entered. Of these there were
lowing age, however, the river that before occupied various sorts; as the album decvrionum, album senato-
the middle of ancient Germany, became its boundary rum, album judicum, album prcetoris, &c.
to the north, from the irruptions of the Sarmatae, who Album Ilecurionum, was the register wherein the
possessed themselves of the Transalbin Germany. The names of the decuriones were entered. This is other-
Elbe rises in the borders of Silesia out of the Risenberg, wise called matriculatio decurionum.
inns through Bohemia, Misnia, Upper Saxony, An- Album Senatorum, the list of senators names which
halt, Magdeburg, Brandenburg, Danneberg, Lauen- was first introduced by Augustus, and renewed yearly,
burg, Holstein, and after being swelled by many other Album ludicum, that wherein the names of the per-
rivers, and passing by Hamburg and Gluckstadt, to sens of those who judged at certain times were
both which places the river is navigable by large vessels, entered.
falls into the German or North sea. Album Prcetoris, that wherein the Jbrmulce of all
ALBISOLA, a small town belonging to the repu- actions, and the names of such judges as the praetor had
blic of Genoa. Here is a porcelain manufacture, and chosen to decide causes, were written,
several country-houses of the Genoese nobility. It w^as The high priest entered the chief transactions of each
bombarded in 1745 English. E. Long. 8. 20. year into an album, or table, whish was hung up in his
N. Lat. 44. 15. house for the public use.
ALBOGALERUS, in Roman antiquity, a white Album is also used, in later times, to denote a kind
cap worn by the flamen Mialis, on the top of which was of table, or pocket-book, wherein the men of letters
an ornament of olive branches. with whom a person has conversed, inscribed their names
ALBORAK, amongst the Mahometan writers, the with some sentence or motto,
beast on which Mahomet rode in his journeys to hea- Album Grcecum, the white dung of dogs, formerly
ven. The Arab commentators give many fables con- prescribed for inflammations of the throat, &c. but
Cerning this extraordinary mode of conveyance. It now disused, and chiefly employed by leather-dressers
is represented as of an intermediate shape and size be- to soften leather after the application of lime,
tween an ass and a mule. A place, it seems, was se- ALBUMAZAR, a learned Arabian astronomer in
cured for it in paradise at the intercession of Mahomet; the tenth century, who wrote a treatise Of the Revolu-
which, however, was in some measure extorted from tion of the Years.
the prophet, by Alborak’s refusing to let him mount ALBUMEN, a substance found both in animal and
vegetafela
A L C [ 568
Albumen vegetable matters, and in great abundance in the white
II of eggs. See Chemistry Index.
Alc*us. ALBUQUERQUE, a town of Spain, in the pro-
vince of Estremadura, is seated on an eminence, nine
miles from the frontiers of Portugal, and containing
5500 inhabitants. It is commanded by an almost im¬
pregnable fortress, built on a high mountain, and serv¬
ing to defend the town. It has some trade in wool and
woollen manufactures. It was taken by the allies of
Charles king of Spain in 1705. W. Long. 7. o. N.
Lat. 38. 52.
ALBURN, the English name of a compound colour,
being a mixture of white and red, or reddish brown.
Skinner derives the word, in this sense, from the Latin
olbus, and the Italian bitrno, from bruno, “ brown.”
ALBURNUM, the soft white substance which in
trees is found between the liber or inner bark and the
wood, and in process of time acquiring solidity, be¬
comes itself the wood. From its colour and compara¬
tive softness, it has been styled by some writers the fat
of trees, adeps urborum.
The alburnum is found in largest quantities in trees
that are vigorous; though in such as languish, or are
sickly, there is a great number of beds. In an oak
six inches in diameter, this substance is nearly equal in
bulk to the wood. In a trunk of one foot diameter,
it is as one to three and a half; of two and a half feet
diameter, as one to four and a half, &c. but these pro¬
portions vary according to the health and constitution
of the trees.—The alburnum is frequently gnawed in
pieces by insects, which lodge in the substance, and are
nourished from it.
ALBURNUS, in Zoology, a species of the cyprinus
of Linnaeus. See Cyprinus, Ichthyology Index.
ALCA, or Auk. See Ornithology Index.
ALCAEUS, a famous ancient lyric poet, born at
Mitylene, in the island of Lesbos. Horace seems to
think him the inventor of this kind of poesy 5
Now the Roman muse inspire,
And warm the song with Grecian fire. Francis.
He flourished in the 44th Olympiad, at the same time
with Sappho, who was likewise of Mitylene. Alcaeus
was a great enemy to tyrants, but not a very brave sol¬
dier. He was present at an engagement, wherein the
Athenians gained a victory over the Lesbians ; and
here, as he himself is said to have confessed in one of
his pieces, he threw down his arms, and saved himself
by flight. Horace, who, of all the Latin poets, most
resembled Alcteus, has made the like confession :
With thee I saw Philippi’s plain,
Its fatal rout, a fearful scene !
And dropp’d, alas ! th’ inglorious shield,
Where valour’s self was forc’d to yield ;
Where soil’d in dust the vanquish’d lav,
And breath’d th’ indignant soul away. Francis.
The poetical abilities of Alcaeus are indisputable ; and
though his writings were chiefly in the lyric strain, yet
his muse was capable of treating the sublimest subjects
with a suitable dignity. Hence Horace says,
Alcaeus strikes the golden sti-ings,
And seas, and war, and exile, sings.
Thus while they strike the various lyre,
The ghosts the sacred sounds admire :
] A L C
But when Alcaeus lifts the strain Alesas
To deeds of war and tyrants slain, H
In thicker crowds the shadowy throng , Akaic,
Drink deeper down the martial song. Francis. ^
ALcieus, an Athenian tragic poet, and, as some
think, the first composer of tragedies. He renounced
his native country Mitylene, and passed for an Athe¬
nian. He left 10 pieces, one of which was Pasiphae,
that which he produced when he disputed with Aristo¬
phanes, in the 4th year of the 97th Olympiad.
There is another Alc;eus mentioned in Plutarch,
perhaps the same whom Porphyrius mentions as a com¬
poser of satirical iambics and epigrams, and who wrote
a poem concerning the plagiarism of Euphorus the hi¬
storian. He lived in the 145th Olympiad.
We are told likewise of one Alc^EUS, a Messenian,
who lived in the reign of Vespasian and Titus. We
know not which of these it was who suffered for his
lewdness a very singular kind of death, which gave oc¬
casion to the following epitaph :
AXxctiv rettyas sraj, &c.
This is Alcteus’s tomb j who died by a radish,
The daughter of the earth, and punisher of adulterers.
This punishment inflicted on adulterers, was thrusting
one of the largest radishes up the anus of the adulterer :
or, for want of radishes, they made use of a fish with
a very large head, which Juvenal alludes to :
Qluosdam meechos et mugilis intrat. Sat. x.
The mullet enters some behind.
Hence we may understand the menace of Catullus,
Ah ! turn te miserum, malique fati.
Quern attractus pedibus, patente porta,
Percurrent raphanique, mugilesque. Epig. xv.
Ah ! wretched thou, and born to luckless fate,
Who art discover’d by the unshut gate !
If once, alas ! the jealous husband come,
The radish or the sea-fish is thy doom.
ALCAICS, in Ancient Poetry, a denomination given
to several kinds of verse, from Alcaeus, their inventor.
The first kind consists of five feet, viz. a spondee, or
iambic 5 an iambic j a long syllable 5 a dactyle •, ano¬
ther dactyle : such is the following verse of Horace :
Onines | eo\dem cogimur, | omnium
Versa\tur ur\na | serins [ ocyus |
Sors exitura.
The second kind consists of two dactyles and two tro¬
chees : as,
Exili\um imposi\tura \ cymbee.
Besides these two, which are called dactylic Alcaics,
there is another simply styled Alcaic ; consisting of an
epitrite ; a choriambus j another choriambus } and a
bacchius: the following is of this species,
Cur timet fla\ vum Tiberim tan\gere, cur | olivum 7
Alcaic Ode, a kind of manly ede, composed of se¬
veral strophes, each consisting of four verses ; the two
first of which are always alcaics of the first kind ; the
third verse is a dimeter hypercatalectic, or consisting
of four feet and a long syllable 5 and the fourth verse
is an alcaic of the second kind. The following strophe
is
A L C
leak °f this species, which Horace calls minaces Alccei
|| camenee.
> Non posstdentem multa vocaveris
Recte beatum : rectius occupat
Nomen beati, qui deorurn
Muneribus sapienter uti} &c.
ALCAID, Alcayde, or Alcalde, in the polity
of the Moors, Spaniards, and Portuguese, a magistrate,
or officer of justice, answering nearly to the French
provost and the British justice of peace.—The alcaid
among the Moors is vested with supreme jurisdiction,
both in civil and criminal cases.
ALCALA de Guadeira, a small town of Spain,
in Andalusia, upon the river Guadeira. Here are
abundance of springs, from whence they convey water
to Seville by an aqueduct. W. Long. 6. 16. N. Lat.
37* 1S-
Alcala de Henares, a beautiful and large city of
Spain, in New Castile, seated upon the river Henares,
which washes its walls. Its population, which was
large in the 16th century, does not now exceed 5000.
The streets are handsome and pretty straight: one of
them is very long, running from one end of the city to
the other. The houses are well built $ and there are
several squares, the largest of which is an ornament to
the city : it is surrounded on all sides with piazzas,
where tradesmen have their shops, to expose several
sorts of commodities to sale, of which there is as great
plenty and variety as in most towns of Spain. The uni-
vei'sity was founded by Cardinal Ximenes, archbishop
of Toledo, about the beginning of the 15th century,
contained 24 colleges, and was, after that of Salaman¬
ca, the most celebrated in Spain. The land about Al¬
cala is watered by the Henares, and yields grain, very
good muscat wine, and melons of a delicious kind.
Without the walls is a spi’ing, the water of which is so
pure and so well tasted, that it is inclosed and shut up
for the king of Spain’s own use, from whence it is car¬
ried to Madrid.—This city is 10 miles south-west of
Guadalaxara, and 13 miles east of Madrid. W. Long.
3. 42. N. Lat. 40. 30.
AtCALA-Real, a small city of Spain, in Andalusia,
with a fine abbey. It is built on the top of a high moun¬
tain, in a mountainous country, nine leagues from Jaen.
It bears the title of a city, and contains a rich abbey,
and a population of 8000 or 9000. W. Long. 4. 15.
N. Lat. 37. 18.
ALCALY, or Alcali, or Alkali. See Che¬
mistry Index.
ALCANIS, a town of Arragon in Spain, seated on
the river Guadaloupe, 12 miles from Caspe. It was for¬
merly the capital of the kingdom of the Moors j but be¬
ing taken from them, it was made a commandery of the
order of Calatrava. Here is a very remarkable foun¬
tain, which throws up water through 42 pipes. It is
surrounded with gardens and fruit trees, and defended
by a good fortress. W. Long. o. 5. N. Lat. 41. o.
ALCANNA, or Alkanna, in Commerce, a pow¬
der prepared from the leaves of the Egyptian privet,
in which the people of Cairo drive a considerable trade.
It is much used by the Turkish women to give a gol¬
den colour to their nails and hair. In dyeing, it gives
a yellow colour when steeped with common water, and
a red one when infused in vinegar. There is also an
Vol. I. Part II. f
[ 569 ]
A L C
oil extracted from the berries of alcanna, which is Alcsnna
sometimes used in medicine. H
ALCANTARA, a small, hut very strong city of Alcassar.
Estremadura, in Spain, with a population of 3000. It v
gives name to one of the three orders of knighthood.
It is seated on the banks of the Tajo or Tagus, 21 miles
from Coria, in a very fruitful soil, and is celebrated
for its bridge over that river. This was built in the
time of the empei’or Trajan, as appears by an inscrip¬
tion over one of the arches, by the people of Lusita¬
nia, who were assessed to supply the expence. It is
raised 200 feet above the level of the water; and
though it consists but of six arches, is 670 feet in
length, and 28 in breadth. At the entrance of the
bridge, there is a small antique chapel hewn in a rock
by the ancient Pagans, who dedicated it to Trajan, as
the Christians did to St Julian. This city was built
by the Moors, on account of the convenience of this
bridge j which is at a place where the Tajo is very
deep, running between two high steep rocks: for this
reason they called it Al-Cantara, which in their lan¬
guage signifies the Bridge. It W'as taken from them
in 1214, and given to the knights of Calatrava, who af¬
terwards assumed the name of Alcantara. It was taken
by the earl of Galway, in April 1706, and retaken by
the French in November following. It is 45 miles
from Madrid, and 125 from Seville. W. Long. 7. 12.
N. Lat. 39. 30.
Knights of Alcantara, a military order of Spain,
which took its name from the above-mentioned city.
They make a very considerable figure in the history of
the expeditions against the Moors. The knights of
Alcantara make the same vows as those of Calatrava,
and are only distinguished from them by this, that the
cross fleur de lys, which they bear over a large white
cloak, is of a green colour. They possess 37 comman-
deries. By the terms of the surrender of Alcantara to
this order, it was stipulated, that there should be a
confraternity between the two orders, with the same
practices and observances in both ; and that the order
of Alcantara should be subject to be visited by the
grand-master of Calatrava. But the former soon re¬
leased themselves from this engagement, on pretence
that their grand-master had not been called to the elec¬
tion of that of Calatrava, as had been likewise stipula¬
ted in the articles. After the expulsion of the Moors,
and the taking of Granada, the sovereignty of the or¬
der of Alcantara and that of Calatrava was settled in
the crown of Castile by Ferdinand and Isabella.—In
1540, the knights of Alcantara sued for leave to mar¬
ry, which was granted them.
ALCAREZ, a small city of La Mancha in Spain,
defended by a pretty strong castle, and remarkable for
an ancient aqueduct. It stands near the river Guarda-
mena, and the soil about it is very fruitful. Thev have
a breed of little running horses, which are very fleet
and strong. It is 25 miles north of the confines of An¬
dalusia, 108 south of Cuenza, and 138 south by east of
Madrid. W. Long. 2. 45. N. Lat. 38. 56.
ALCASSAR Do sal, a town of Portugal, in Estre¬
madura, which has a castle said to be impregnable. It
is indeed very strong, both by art and nature, being-
built on the top of a rock which is exceedingly steep
on all sides. Here is a salt-work, which produces very
white salt, from whence the town takes its name. The
4 C * _ fields
Alcassai
H
Alcazar.
A L C [ 570 ] A L C
fields produce large quantities of a sort of rushes, of
which they make mats, which are transported out of
the kingdom. W. Long. 9. 10. N. Lat. 38. 18.
Alcassar, a city of Barhary, seated about two
leagues from Larache, in Asga, a province of the king¬
dom of Fez. It was of great note, and the seat of the
governor of this part of the kingdom. It was built
by Jacob Almanzor, king of Fez, about the year 1180,
and designed for a magazine and place of rendezvous
for the great preparations he was making to enter
Granada in Spain, and to make good the footing Jo¬
seph Almanzor had got some time before. It is said
his father first invaded Spain with 300,000 men, most
of whom he was obliged to bring back to Africa to
quell a rebellion that had broke out in Morocco. This
done, he returned to Spain again with an army, as is
said, of 200,000 horse and 300,000 foot. The city
is now fallen greatly to decay, so that of fifteen mosques
there are only two that they make use of. The reason,
probably, is the bad situation of the town j for it stands
90 low, that it is excessively hot in summer, and almost
overflowed with water in the winter. This they affirm
to be owing to the curse of one of their saints. Here
are a great number of storks, who live very familiarly
with the people, walking about tiie town, possessing
the tops of the houses and mosques without molesta¬
tion ; for they esteem them sacred birds, and account it
sinful to disturb them. At present, the bashaw of Te-
tuan appoints a governor to this town, which is the last
of his dominions towards Mequinez. Near this city
there is a high ridge of mountains, running towards
Tetuan, whose inhabitants were never brought entirely
under subjection ; and whenever it was attempted, they
revenged themselves by infesting the roads, and robbing
and destroying the travellers. When they were pursued,
they retired into their woody mountains, where none
could safely follow them. Not far from hence is the
river F.lmahassen, famous for the battle fought between
Don Sebastian king of Portugal and the Moors; in
which the Portuguese were defeated, and their king
slain. W. Long. 12. 35. N. Lat. 35. 15.
ALCAVALA, in the Spanish finances, was at first
a tax of ten per cent, afterwards of 14 per cent, and
is at present of only 6 per cent, upon the sale of every
sort of property, whether1 moveable or immoveable j
and it is repeated every time the property is sold. The
levying of this tax requires a multitude of revenue of¬
ficers sufficient to guard the transportation of goods,
not only from one province to another, but from one
shop to another. It subjects not only the dealers in
some sort of goods, but those in all sorts, every farmer,
every manufacturer, every merchant and shopkeeper,
to the continual visits and examination of the tax-
gatherers. Through the greater part of a country in
which a tax of this kind is established, nothing can
be produced for distant sale. The produce of every
part of the country must be proportioned to the con¬
sumption of the neighbourhood. It is to the Alcavala,
accordingly, that Ustaritz imputes the ruin of the ma¬
nufactures of Spain. He might have imputed to it
likewise the declension of agriculture, it being imposed
not only upon manufactures, but upon the rude produce
of the land.
ALCAZAR LEGUER, a town of Africa, in the
kingdom of Fez, and in the province of Rabat. It
was taken by Alphonso, king of Portugal, in 1468 j but Alca*;,
soon after that it was abandoned to the Moors. It is })
seated on the coast of the straits of Gibraltar. W. Long. Akwt
3. 50. N. Lat. 38. o. '■—y-,
ALCAZER, a town of Spain, in New Castile, seat¬
ed on the river Guardamena, which has a fortress on
a high hill for its defence, and lies in a very fruitful
country. It is too miles north-west of Carthagena.
-W. Long. 2. 10. N. Lat. 38. 15.
ALCE, Alces, or Elk, in Zoology, the trivial name
of a species of the cervus, belonging to the order of
mammalia pecora. See Cervus.
ALCE A, the Holly-Hock. See Botany Index.
ALCEDO, or Kingsfisher. See Ornithology
Index.
ALCHEMILLA, or Ladies-mantle. See Bo¬
tany Index.
ALCHEMIST, a practitioner in alchemy.
ALCHEMY, that branch of chemistry which bad
for its principal objects the transmutation of metals into
gold ; the panacea, or universal remedy j an alkahest, or
universal menstruum } an universal ferment j and many
other things equally ridiculous.
Kircher, instructed in all the secrets of chemistry,
has fully exposed the artifices and impostures of alche¬
mists. An alchemist puts into a crucible the matter
which is to be converted into gold : this he sets on the
fire, blows it, stirs it with rods 5 and, after divers ope¬
rations, gold is found at the bottom of the crucible,
instead of the matter first put in. This there are a
thousand ways of efl’ecting, without any transmuta¬
tion. Sometimes it is done by dexterously dropping in
a piece of gold concealed between the fingers 5 some¬
times by casting in a little of the dust of gold or silver
disguised under the appearance of some elixir, or other
indifferent matter j sometimes a crucible is used which
has a double bottom, and gold put between the two j
sometimes the rod used to stir the matter is hollow,
and filled with the dust of the metal desired ; at other
times there is metal mixed with the charcoal, the ashes
of the furnace, or the like. Mr Harris very properly
distinguishes alchemy from chemistry; and defines
the former to be ars sine arte, Cvjus principium est men-
tiri, medium laborare, etfinis mendicare ; and the Ita¬
lians have a proverb, nontifidiare al alchemista povero
0 medico amalato. The ruin which has attended this
delusion has occasioned several states to make severe
laws against pretences to alchemy. The Romans for-f
merly banished all such as professed it; and the sacred
canons likewise directed the thunder of their cen¬
sure against them. Dioclesian and Caesar directed all
books which treated of this subject to be burnt. Ry-
mer furnishes us with a license for practising alchemy,
with all kinds of metals and minerals, granted to one
Richard Carter in 1476; Hym. Feed. tom. xii. Ne¬
vertheless, we have had severe laws against alchemy,
and multiplying of metals, as much so as against coin¬
ing itself.
ALCHORNEA. See Botany Index.
ALCIAT or Alciate, Andrew, a great lawyer,
who flourished in the tenth century, was born at Milan.
He mixed much of polite learning in the explication
of the laws, and happily drove out the barbarity of
language which till then had reigned in the lectures
and writings of lawyers $ for which Thuanus highly
praises
ilciat
cmaer
A L C [ S7
praises him. He published a great many law-books,
and some notes upon Tacitus. His Emblems have been
much admired, and translated into French, Italian and
J Spanish j and several learned men have written com¬
mentaries on them.
ALCIBIADES, an Athenian general. It was the
fate of this great man to live at a time when his coun¬
try was a scene of confusion. The Greeks, grown inso¬
lent from their conquests in Persia, turned their armies
against each other, and bandied together under the
conduct of the two most opulent states, Athens and
Lacedaemon. Alcibiades, in the midst of an expedition
he had planned against the enemies of his country, was
recalled home to answer some charge of a private na¬
ture : but fearing the violence of his enemy, instead of
going to Athens, he offered his sevices at Sparta,
where they were readily accepted. By his advice the
Lacedaemonians made a league with Persia, which gave
a very favourable turn to their affairs. But his credit
in the republic raising jealousies against him, he pri¬
vately reconciled himself to his country, and took again
the command of the Athenian army. Here victory,
waiting as it were at his command, attended all his
motions. T he loss of seven battles obliged the Spar¬
tans to sue for peace. He enjoyed his triumphs, how¬
ever, only a short time at Athens. One unsuccessful
event made him again obnoxious to the malice of bis
citizens j and he found it expedient to retire from A-
thens. In his absence the Spartans again took the lead,
and at the fatal battle of ./Egos entirely subdued the
Athenian power. Alcibiades, though an exile, endea¬
voured to restore the power of his country j of which
the Spartans having intelligence, procured him to be
assassinated. He was a man of admirable accomplish¬
ments, but indifferently principled ; of great parts $
and of an amazing versatility of genius.
ALCINOUS, king of the Phaeacians, in the island
now called Corfu, was son of Nausithous, and grand¬
son of Neptune and Peribea. It is by his gardens this
king has chiefly immortalized his memory. He re¬
ceived Ulysses with much civility, when a storm had
cast him on his coast. The people here loved pleasure
and good cheer, yet were skilful seamen; and Alcinous
Was a good prince.
ALCMAER, a city of the United Provinces, seat¬
ed in North Holland, about four miles from the sea,
15 from Haerlem, and 18 from Amsterdam. It is a
handsome city, and contained above 8000 inhabitants
m 1796* 1 he streets and houses are extremely neat
and regular, and the public buildings very beautiful.
It had formerly two parish churches, dedicated to St
Matthew and St Lawrence. The latter had so high a
tower, that it served for a sea-mark to the vessels that
were in the open sea j but, in 1464, it tumbled down,
and damaged the other church so much, that they were
both demolished in 1670, and one church was built in
their stead, dedicated to the same saints. The Spaniards,
nnder the command of Frederick of Toledo, son of the
duke of Alva, came to besiege it, after they had taken
Haerlem in 1573 5 hut were forced to raise the siege
after lying three months before it, as well on account
of the infection of the air as the stout resistance of the
inhabitants and soldiers; even the women signalizing
themselves bravely in its defence. It is recorded in
the register of this city, that, in the year 1637, 120
1 ] A l c
tulips, with the offsets, sold for 90,000 florins. The Alemaer
town has a very great trade in butter and cheese. It ||
was taken by the British in 1799? hut soon abandoned. Alcohol.
E. Long. 4. 26. N. Lat. 52. 28. ‘ 
ALCMAN, a lyric poet, who flourished in the 27th
Olympiad, about 670 years before Christ. He was
born at Sparta ; and composed several poems, of which
only some fragments are remaining, quoted by Athe-
nseus and some other ancient writers. He was very
amorous ; accounted the father of gallant poesy ; and
is said to have been the first that introduced the custom
of singing love songs in company. He is reported to
have been one of the greatest orators of his age ; upon
which Mr Bayle remarks, that such a quality would
have been extremely inconvenient, if poetry had been
at that time upon such a footing as it has been often
since, not able to procure the poet bread. He died of
a strange disease ; for he was eaten up with lice.
ALCMANIAN, in ancient lyric poetry, a kind
of verse, consisting of two dactyles and two trochees :
as,—
Vt rgi ni\bus p ue\risque\canto.
The word is formed from Aleman, the name of an an¬
cient Greek poet, in great esteem for his erotics or
amorous compositions.
ALCMENA, the daughter of Electryo king of
Mycenae, and wife of Amphitryon. Jupiter putting
on the shape of her husband while he was abroad in
the wars, begot Hercules upon her: he made that
night as long as three ordinary ones.
ALCOCK, John, doctor of laws, and bishop of Ely,
in the reign of King Henry VII. was born at Beverly
in \ orkshire, and educated at Cambridge. He was
first made dean of Westminster, and afterwards ap¬
pointed master of the rolls. In I47I> he was conse¬
crated bishop of Rochester: in 1476, he was translated
to the see of Worcester ; and in i486, to that of Ely,
in the room of Hr John Morton, preferred to the see
of Canterbury. He was a prelate of great learning
and piety, and so highly esteemed by King Henry,
that be appointed him lord president of Wales, and af¬
terwards lord chancellor of England. Alcock found- '
ed a school at Kingston upon Hull, and built the spa¬
cious hall belonging to the episcopal palace at Ely.
He was also the founder of Jesus-college in Cambridge,
for a master, six fellows, and as many scholars. This
house was formerly a nunnery, dedicated to St Radi-
gund ; and, as Godwin tells us, the building being
greatly decayed, and the revenues reduced almost to
nothing, the nuns had all forsaken it, except two ;
whereupon Bishop Alcock procured a grant from the
crown, and converted it into a college. But Camden
and others tell us, that the nuns of that house were so
notorious for their incontinence, that King Henry VII.
and Pope Julius II. consented to its dissolution: Bale
accordingly calls this nunnery spiritualium mej'etricum
cccmbium, “ a community of spiritual harlots.” Bishop
Alcock wrote several pieces ; among which are the
following : 1. Mans Perfectionis. 2. In Psalmos Pe¬
nitentiaries. 3. Homilicc Vulgares. 4. Meditationes Pice.
He died October 1. 1500 ; and was buried in the cha¬
pel he had built at Kingston upon Hull.
ALCOHOL, or Alkool, in Chemistry, spirit of
wine highly rectified. It is also used for any highly
4 C 2 rectified
A L C
[ 5?2 ]
A L C
Alcohol rectified spirit.—-Alcohol is extremely light and inilam-
II mable : it is a strong antiseptic, and therefore employ-
Alcoran. e({ to preserve animal substances. See Chemistry In-
v dcx.
Alcohol is also used for any fine impalpable pow¬
der.
ALCOHOLIZATION, the process of rectifying
any spirit. It is also used for pulverization.
ALCOE, in Astronomy, a small star adjoining to the
large bright one in the middle of the tail of ursa major.
-—The word is Arabic. It is a proverb among the
Arabians, applied to one who pretends to see small
things, but overlooks much greater : Thou canst see Al~
cor, and yet not see the J'ull moon.
ALCORAN, or Al-Koran, the scripture or hible
of the Mahometans. The word is compounded of the
Arabic particle al, and coran or korant derived from
the verb caraa or karaa, to read. The word therefore
properly signifies, the reading; or rather, that which
ought to be read. By this name the Mahometans de¬
note not only the entire book or volume of the Koran,
but also any particular chapter or section of it $ just as
the Jews call either the whole Scripture, or any part of
it, by the name of Karah, or Mikra, words of the same
origin and import.
Besides this peculiar name, the Koran is also honour¬
ed with several appellations common to other books of
Scripture : as, al Farkan, from the verb foraka, to di¬
vide or distinguish ,* not, as the Mahometan doctors say,
because those books are divided into chapters or sec¬
tions, or distinguish between good and evil j but in the
same notion that the Jews use the word Perek, or Pirka,
from the same root, to denote a section or portion of
Scripture. It is also called al Moshaf, the volume, and
al Kitah, the book, by way of eminence, which answers
to the Biblia of the Greeks j and al Dhikr, the admo¬
nition, which name is also given to the Pentateuch and
Gospel.
The Koran is divided into 114 larger portions of very
unequal length, which we call chapters ; but the Ara¬
bians sowar, in the singular sura, a word rarely used
on any other occasion, and properly signifying a row,
order, or a regular series; as a course of bricks in a
building, or a rank of soldiers in an army j and is the
same in use and import with the Sura, or Tora, of the
Jews, who also call the fifty-three sections of the Pen¬
tateuch Sedarim, a word of the same signification.
These chapters are not, in the manuscript copies, di¬
stinguished by their numerical order, but by particular
titles, which are taken sometimes from a particular
matter treated of, or person mentioned therein $ but
usually from the first word of note, exactly in the same
manner as the Jews have named their Sedarim ; though
the word from which some chapters are denominated
be very far distant, towards the middle, or perhaps the
end ol the chapter j which seems ridiculous. But the
occasion of this appears to have been, that the verse or
passage wherein such word occurs, was, in the point of
time, revealed and committed to writing before the
other verses of the same chapter, which precede it in or¬
der ; and the title being given to the chapter before it
was completed, or the passages reduced to their present
order •, the verse from whence such title was taken did
not always.happen to begin the chapter. Some chap-
3
ters have two or more titles, occasioned by the difference Alcora*
of the copies. 4—y—~
Some of the chapters having been revealed at Mecca,
and others at Medina, the noting this difference makes
a part of the title : but the reader will oberve, that se¬
veral of the chapters are said to have been revealed
partly at Mecca and partly at Medina j and, as to
others, it is yet a dispute among the commentators to
which of the two places they belong.
Every chapter is subdivided into smaller portions, of
very unequal length also, which we customarily call
verses ; but the Arabic word is ayat, the same with the
Hebrew ototh, and signifies signs or wonders: such as
are the secrets of God, his attributes, works, judge¬
ments, and ordinances, delivered in -those verses 5 many
of which have their particular titles also, imposed in the
same manner as those of the chapters.
Besides these unequal divisions of chapter and verse,
the Mahometans have also divided their Koran into six¬
teen equal portions, which they call Ahzab, in the sin¬
gular Hizb, each divided into four equal parts j which
is also an imitation of the Jews, who have an ancient
division of their Mishna into sixty portions called Mas-
sictoth. But the Koran is more usually divided into
thirty sections only, named Ajza, from the singular
Joss, each of twice the length of the former, and in the
like manner subdivided into four parts. These divi¬
sions are for the use of the readers of the Koran in the
royal temples, or in the adjoining chapels where the
emperors and great men are interred. There are thirty
of these readers belonging to every chapel, and each
reads his section every day j so that the w'hole Koran is
read over once a day.
Next after the title, at the head of every chapter,
except only the ninth, is prefixed the following solemn
form, by the Mahometans called the Bismallah, In
THE NAME OF THE MOST MERCIFUL GoD ; which
form they constantly place at the beginning of all their
books and writings in general, as a peculiar mark or
distinguishing characteristic of their religion, it being
counted a sort of impiety to omit it. The Jews, for
the same purpose, make use of the form, In the name
of the Lord, or, In the name of the great God j and
the eastern Christians that of, In the name of the Fa¬
ther, and oj the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. But Ma¬
homet probably took this form, as he did many other
things, from the Persian Magi, who used to begin
their books in these words, Benam Yezdan bakshaish-
gher dadar ; that is, In the name oj' the most merciful
just God.
There are twenty-nine chapters of the Koran, which
have this peculiarity, that they begin with certain let¬
ters of the alphabet, some with a single one, others with
more. These letters the Mahometans believe to be
the peculiar marks of the Koran, and to conceal seve¬
ral profound mysteries j the certain understanding of
which, the most intelligent confess, has not been com¬
municated to any mortal, their prophet only excepted.
Notwithstanding which, some will take the liberty of
guessing at their meaning by that species of Cabala
called by the Jews Notarikon, and suppose the letters
to stand for as many words, expressing the names and
attributes of God, his works, ordinances, and decrees j
and therefore these mysterious letters, as well as the
verses
A L C [ 573 ] A L C
Ueoran. verses themselves, seem in the Koran to be called signs.
Others explain the intent of these letters from their
nature or organ, or else from their value in numbers,
according to another species of the Jewish Cabala call¬
ed Gematria; the uncertainty of which conjectures
sufficiently appears from their disagreement. Thus, for
example, five chapters, one of which is the second, be¬
gin with these letters, A. Jj. M. which some imagine
to stand for Allah latiff'magid, “ God is gracious and
to be glorified; or, Ana li minni, i. e. to me and from
me, viz. belongs all perfection, and proceeds all good j
or else for Ana Allah alam, “ 1 am the most wise God,”
taking the first letter to mark the beginning of the
first word, the second the middle of the second word,
and the third the last of the third word ; or for Allah,
Gabriel, Mohammed, the author, revealer, and preacher
of the Koran. Others say, that as the letter A be¬
longs to the lower part of the throat, the first of the or¬
gans of speech j L to the palate, the middle organ j
and M to the lips, which are the last organ ; so these
letters signify that God is the beginning, middle, and
end, or ought to be praised in the beginning, middle,
and end, of all our words and actions : or, as the total
value of those three letters, in numbers, is seventy-one,
they signify, that, in the space of so many years, the
religion preached in the Koran should be fully establish¬
ed. The conjecture of a learned Christian is at least as
certain as any of the former, who supposes those letters
were set there by the amanuensis, for Amur li Moham¬
med, i. e. at the command of Mohammed, as the five let¬
ters prefixed to the nineteenth chapter seem to be there
written by a Jewish scribe, for Coh yaas, Thus he com¬
manded.
The Koran is universally allowed to be written with
the utmost elegance and purity of language, in the dia¬
lect of the tribe of Koreish, the most noble and polite
of all the Arabians, but with some mixture, though
very rarely, of other dialects. It is confessedly the
standard of the Arabic tongue, and, as the more ortho¬
dox believe, and are taught by the book itself, inimi¬
table by any human pen (though some sectaries have
been of another opinion), and therefore insisted on as
a permanent miracle, greater than that of raising the
dead, and alone sufficient to convince the world of its
divine original.
And to this miracle did Mahomet himself chiefly
appeal for the confirmation of his mission, publicly chal¬
lenging the most eloquent men in Arabia, which was
at that time stocked with thousands whose sole study
and ambition it was to excel in elegance of style and
composition, to produce even a single chapter that might
be compared with it (A.)
To the pomp and harmony of expression some ascribe
all the force and effect of the Alcoran } which they
consider as a sort of music, equally fitted with other spe¬
cies of that art to ravish and amaze. In this Mahomet
succeeded so well, and so strangely captivated the minds
of his audience, that several of his opponents thought
it the efiect of witchcraft and enchantment, as he him- Alcoran,
self complains.—Others have attributed the effect oftf——
the Alcoran to the frequent mention of rewards and
punishments ; heaven and hell occurring almost in eve-
ry page. Some suppose, that the sensual pleasures of
paradise, so frequently set before the imaginations of
the readers of the Alcoran, were what chiefly bewitch¬
ed them. Though, with regard to these, there is a
great dispute whether they are to be understood literal¬
ly or spiritually. Several have even allegorized the
whole book.
The general design of the Koran was to unite the
professors of the three different religions, then followed
in the populous country of Arabia (who for the most
part lived promiscuously, and wandered without guides,
the far greater number being idolaters, and the rest
Jews and Christians mostly of erroneous and heterodox
belief), in the knowledge and worship of one God,
under the sanction of certain laws, and the outward
signs of ceremonies partly of ancient and partly of no¬
vel institution, enforced by the consideration of re¬
wards and punishments both temporal and eternal $
and to bring them all to the obedience of Mahomet,
as the prophet and ambassador of God, who, after the
repeated admonitions, promises, and threats, of former
ages, was at last to establish and propagate God’s re¬
ligion on earth, and to be acknowledged chief pontiff
in spiritual matters, as well as supreme prince in tem¬
poral.
The great doctrine then of the Koran, is the unity
of God 5 to restore which point Mahomet pretended
was the chief end of his mission it being laid down
by him as a fundamental truth, That there never was,
nor ever can be, more than one true orthodox religion.
For, though the particular laws or ceremonies are only
temporary, and subject to alteration, according to the
divine directions; yet the substance of it being eternal
truth, is not liable to change, but continues immutably
the same. And he taught, that, whenever this reli¬
gion became neglected, or corrupted in essentials, God
had the goodness to re-inform and re-admonish man¬
kind thereof, by several prophets, of whom Moses and
Jesus were the most distinguished, till the appearance
of Mahomet, who is their seal, and no other to be ex¬
pected after him. The more effectually to engage
people to hearken to him, great part of the Koran is
employed in relating examples of dreadful punishments
formerly inflicted by God on those who rejected and
abused his messengers j several of which stories, or
some circumstances of them, are taken from the Old
and New Testaments, but many more from the apo¬
cryphal books and traditions of the Jews and Chri¬
stians of those ages, set up in the Koran as truths in
opposition to the Scriptures, which the Jews and Chri¬
stians are charged with having altered j and indeed,
few or none of the relations or eircumstances in the
Koran were invented by Mahomet, as is generally
supposed, it being easy to trace the greatest part of
them „
(a) As the composition and arrangement of words, however, admit of infinite varieties, it can never be abso- -
lately said that any one is the best possible. In fact, Hamzah Benahmed wrote a book against the Alcoran with .
at least equal elegance ; and Moselema another, which even surpassed it, and occasioned a defection of ,a great,
part of the Mussulmans. Journ. de.Sfav, tom. xiii. p. 28q. Oeuvr. de Sfav. Nov. 1708.^. 404.
A L C ' [ 574 ] A L C
iLlcwan, them much higher, as the rest might be, were more of
'■V-'i—f those books extant, and was it worth while to make the
inquiry.
The rest of the Alcoran is taken up in prescribing
necessary laws and directions, frequent admonitions to
moral and divine virtues, the worship and reverence of
the Supreme Being, and resignation to his will. One
of their most learned commentators distinguishes the
contents of the Alcoran into allegorical and literal: un¬
der the former are comprehended all the obscure, para¬
bolical, and enigmatical passages, with such as are re¬
pealed, or abrogated j the latter, such as are clear, and
in full force.
The most excellent moral in the whole Alcoran, in¬
terpreters say, is that in the chapter Al Alraf, viz.
“ Shew mercy, do good to all, and dispute not with the
ignorant j” or, as Mr Sale renders it, “ Use indulgence,
command that which is just, and withdraw far from the
ignorant.” Mahomet, according to the authors of the
Keschaf, having begged of the angel Gabriel a more
ample explication of this passage, received it in the fol¬
lowing terms : “ Seek him who turns thee out, give to
him who takes from thee, pardon him who injures
thee 5 for God will have you plant in your souls the
roots of his chief perfections.” It is easy to see that
this commentary is copied from the gospel. In reali¬
ty, the necessity of forgiving enemies, though fre¬
quently inculcated in the Alcoran, is of a later date
among the Mahometans than among the Christians $
among those latter,, than among the heathens j and to
be traced originally among the Jews. (See Exodus
xxxiii. 4. 5.). But it matters not so much who had it
/ first, as who observes it best. The caliph Hassan, son
of Hali, being at table, a slave unfortunately let fall a
dish of meat reeking hot, which scalded him severely.
The slave fell on his knees, rehearsing these words of
the Alcoran, “ Paradise is for those, who restrain their
anger.” I am not angry with thee, answered the ca¬
liph—“ And for those who forgive offences against
them,” continues the slave. I forgive thee thine, replies
the caliph—“ But above all, for those who return good
for evil,” adds the slave. I set thee at liberty, rejoined
the caliph ; and I give thee ten dinars.
There are also a great number of occasional passages
in the Alcoran, relating only to particular emergencies.
For this advantage Mahomet had in the piecemeal me¬
thod of receiving his revelation, that whenever he hap¬
pened to be perplexed and gravelled with any thing, he
had a certain resource in some new morsel of revelation.
It was an admirable contrivance of his, to bring down
the whole Alcoran at once, only to the lowest heaven,
not to earth j since, had the whole been published at
once, innumerable objections would have been made,
which it would have been impossible for him to solve ;
but as he received it bv parcels, as God saw fit they
should be published for the conversion and instruction of
the people, he had a sure way to answer all emergencies,
and to extricate himself with honour from any difficulty
which might occur.
It is the general and orthodox belief among the Ma¬
hometans, that the Koran is of divine original j nay,
that it is eternal and uncreated, remaining, as some
express it, in the very essence of God: that the first
transcript has been from everlasting by God’s throne,
written on a table of vast bigness, called the preserved
table, in which are also recorded the divine decrees Alcmn
past and future : that a copy from this table, in one v—
volume on paper, was by the ministry of the angel Ga¬
briel sent down to the lowest heaven, in the month of
Ramadan, on the night of power: from whence Ga¬
briel revealed it to Mahomet by parcels, some at Mec¬
ca, and some at Medina, at different times, during the
space of 23 years, as the exigency of affairs required ;
giving him, however, the consolation to show him the
whole (which they tell us was bound in silk, and adorn¬
ed with gold and precious stones of paradise) once a-
year $ but in the last year of his life he had the favour
to see it twice. They say, that few chapters were de¬
livered entire, the most part being revealed piece¬
meal, and written down from time to time by the pro¬
phet’s amanuensis in such a part of such and such a
chapter till they were completed, according to the
directions of the angel. The first parcel that was re¬
vealed is generally agreed to have been the first five
verses of the 46th chapter.
After the *ew-revealed passages had been from the
prophet’s mouth taken down in writing by his scribe,
they were published to his followers j several of whom
took copies for their private use, but the far greater
number got them by heart. The originals, when re¬
turned, were put promiscuously into a chest, observing
no order of time} for which reason it is uncertain when
many passages were revealed. ft
When Mahomet died, he left his revelations in the
same disorder, and not digested into the method, such
as it is, in which we now find them. This was the
work of his successor Abu Beer*, who, considering IL
that a great number of passages were committed to
the memory of Mahomet’s followers, many of whom
were slain in their wars, ordered the whole to be
collected, not only from the palm leaves and skins on
which they had been written, and which were kept
between two boards or covers, but also from the mouths
of such as had gotten them by heart. And this tran¬
script, when completed, he committed to the custody
of Hassa the daughter of Omar, one of the prophet’s
widows.
From this relation it is generally imagined that Abu
Beer was really the compiler of the Koran} though,
for aught appears to the contrary, Mahomet left the
chapters complete as we now have them, excepting such
passages as his successor might add or correct from
those who had gotten them by heart} what Abu Beer did
else, being perhaps no more than to range the chap¬
ters in their present order, which he seems to have done
without any regard to time, having generally placed
the longest first.
However, in the 30th year of the Hegira, Othman
being then caliph, and observing the great disagree¬
ment in the copies of the Koran in the several pro¬
vinces of the empire } those of Irak, for example, fol¬
lowing the reading of Abu Musa al Ashari, and the
Syrians that of Macdad Ebn Aswad } he, by the ad¬
vice of the companions, ordered a great number of co¬
pies to be transcribed from that of Abu Beer, in Has-
sa^s care, under the inspection of Zeid Ebn Thabet,
Abd’allah Ebn Zobair, Said Ebn al As, and Abd’al-
rabman Ebn al Hareth the Makhzumite} whom he
directed, that, wherever they disagreed about any
word, they should write it in the dialect of the Ko-
reisbf
Alcoran
TieV) of
'.hristkini-
y and
\Iahomc.
anim,
| . iS?
A L C
reish, in whicli it was at first delivered.
1 when made, were dispersed in the several provinces of
the empire, and the old ones burnt and suppressed.
Though many things in Hassa’s copy were corrected
by the above-mentioned revisers, yet some few various
readings still occur.
In fine, the book of the Alcoran is held in the highest
esteem and reverence among the Mussulmans. They
dare not so much as touch the Alcoran without being
first washed, or legally purified $ to prevent which, an
inscription is put on the cover or label, Let none touch
but they who are clean. It is read with great care and
respect; being never held below the girdle. They
swear by it $ take omens from it on all weighty occa¬
sions ; carry it with them to war j write sentences of it
in their banners; adorn it with gold and precious stones j
and knowingly suffer it not to" be in the possession of
any of a different religion. Some say that it is punish¬
able even with death, in a Christian, to touch it j
others, that the veneration of the Mussulmans leads
them to condemn the translating it into any other lan¬
guage as a profanation c but these seem to be aggrava¬
tions. The Mahometans have taken care to have their
Scripture translated into the Persian, the Javanese, the
Malayan, and other languages ; though, out of respect
to the original, these versions are generally, if not al¬
ways, interlineated.
By the advocates of Mahometanism, the Koran, as
already observed, has always been held forth as the
greatest of miracles, and equally stupendous with the
act of raising the dead. The miracles of Moses and
Jesus, they say, were transient and temporary; but
that of the Koran is permanent and perpetual; and
therefore far surpasses all the miraculous events of pre¬
ceding ages. We will not detract from the real merit
of the Koran : we allow it to be generally elegant, and
often sublime : but at the same time we reject with dis¬
dain its arrogant pretence to any thing supernatural j
all the real excellence of the work being easily referable
to natural and visible causes.
“ In the language of Arabia, a language extremely
loved and diligently cultivated by the people to whom
it was vernacular, Mahomet found advantages which
were never enjoyed by any former or succeeding im¬
postor. It requires not the eye of a philosopher to dis¬
cover in every soil and country a principle of national
pride : and if we look back for many ages on the his¬
tory of the Arabians, we shall easily perceive that pride
among them invariably to have consisted in the know¬
ledge and improvement of their native language. The
Arabic, which has been justly esteemed the most copi¬
ous of the Eastern tongues ; which had existed from
the remotest antiquity \ which had been embellished by
numberless poets, and refined by the constant exercise
of the natives j was the most successful instrument
which Mahomet employed in planting his new religion
among them. Admirably adapted by its unrivalled har¬
mony, and by its endless variety, to add painting to ex¬
pression, and to pursue the imagination in its unbound¬
ed flight *, it became in the hands of Mahomet an irres-
tible charm to blind the judgment, and to captivate the
fancy of his followers.
“ Of that description of men, who first composed the
adherents of Mahomet, and to whom the Koran was
addressed, few, probably, were able to pass a very ac-
2,
[ 575 ] A L C
These copies, curate judgment on the propriety of the sentiments, or
on the beauties of the diction : but all could judge of'
the military abilities of their leader j and in the midst
of their admiration it is not difficult to conceive, that
they would ascribe to his compositions every imaginary
beauty of inspired language.
“ The shepherd and the soldier, though awake to
the charms of those wild but beautiful compositions,
m which were celebrated their favourite occupations of
love or war, were yet_ little able to criticise any other
works than those which were addressed to the ima¬
gination or the heart. To abstract reasonings on the
attributes and the dispensations of the Deity, to the
comparative excellencies of rival religions, to the con¬
sistency of any one religious system in all its parts, and
to the force of its various proofs, they were quite inat¬
tentive. In such a situation, the appearance of a Avork
which possessed something like wisdom and consistence j
which prescribed the rules, and illustrated the duties
of life \ and which contained the principles of a neiv
and comparatively sublime theology, independently of
its real and permanent merit, was likely to excite their
astonishment, and to become the standard of future com¬
position.
“ In the first periods of the literature of every coun¬
try, something of this kind has happened. The father
of Grecian poetry very obviously influenced the taste
and imitation of his countrymen. The modern nations
of Europe all possess some original author, who, rising
from the darkness of former ages, has begun the career
of composition, and tinctured with the character of his
own imagination the stream which has floived through
his posterity.
“ But the prophet of Arabia had in this respect ad¬
vantages peculiar to himself. His compositions Avere
not to his followers the rvorks of man, but the genuine
language of Heaven, which had sent him. They Aver«
not confined therefore to that admiration Avhich is so
liberally bestowed on the earliest productions of genius,
or to that fond attachment with which men every¬
where regard the original compositions of their coun¬
try : but with their admiration they blended their piety.
To know and to feel the beauties of the Koran, Avas
in some respect to share in the temper of heaven $ and
he who was most affected with admiration in the peru¬
sal of its beauties, seemed most fitly the object of that
mercy Avhich had given it to ignorant man. The Ko¬
ran, therefore, became naturally and necessarily the
standard of taste. With a language thus hallowed in
their imaginations, they were too Avell satisfied, either
to dispute its elegance or improve its structure. In
succeeding ages, the additional sanction of antiquity,
or prescription, was given to these compositions Avhich
their fathers had admired : and while the belief of its
divine original continues, that admiration, Avhich has
thus become tbe test and the duty of the faithful, can
neither be altered nor diminished.
“ When therefore we consider these peculiar advan¬
tages of the Koran, Ave have no reason to be surprised
at the admiration in which it is held. But if, descend¬
ing to a more minute investigation of it, we consider its
perpetual inconsistence and absurdity, Ave shall indeed
have cause for astonishment at that weakness of huma¬
nity which could ever have received such compositions
as the Avork of the Deity.
Ale ©ran.
6 4 Th ®
Alcoran.
A L C C 576 ] A L C
« The first praise of all the productions of genius, is
invention ; that quality of the mind, which, by the ex¬
tent and quickness of its views, is capable of the lar¬
gest conceptions, and of forming new combinations of
objects the most distant and unusual. But the Koran
bears little impression of this transcendent character.
Its materials are wholly borrowed from the Jewish and
Christian Scriptures, from the Talmudical legends and
apocryphal gospels then current in the East, and from
the traditions and fables which abounded in Arabia.
The materials collected from these several sources are
here heaped together with perpetual and needless re¬
petitions, without any settled principle or visible con¬
nection.
“ When a great part of the life of Mahomet had been
spent in preparatory meditation on the system he was
about to establish, its chapters were dealt out slowly
and separately during the long period of 23 years. Yet
thus defective in its structure, and not less exception¬
able in its doctrines, was the work which Mahomet
delivered to his followers as the oracles of God.
“ The most prominent feature of the Koran, that
point of excellence in which the partiality of its ad¬
mirers has ever delighted to view it, is the sublime no¬
tion it generally impresses of the nature and attributes
of God. If its author had really derived these just
conceptions from the inspiration of that Being whom
they attempt to describe, they would not have been
surrounded, as they now are on every side, with error
and absurdity. But it might easily be proved, that
whatever it justly defines of the divine attributes, was
borrowed from our Holy Scripture j which even from
its first promulgation, but especially from the comple¬
tion of the New Testament, has extended the views
and enlightened the understandings of mankind $ and
thus furnished them with arms, which have too often,
though ineffectually, been turned against itself by its
ungenerous enemies.
“ In this instance particularly, the copy is far below
the great original, both in the propriety of its images,
and the force of its descriptions. Our Holy Scriptures
are the only compositions that can enable the dim sight
of mortality to penetrate into the invisible world, and
to behold a glimpse of the Divine perfections. Accor¬
dingly, when they would represent to us the happiness
of Heaven, they describe it, not by any thing minute
and particular, but by something general and great:
something that, without descending to any determinate
object, may at once by its beauty and immensity ex¬
cite our wishes and elevate our affections. Though in
the prophetical and evangelical writings the joys that
shall attend us in a future state are often mentioned
with ardent admiration, they are expressed rather by
allusion than similitude, rather by indefinite and figura¬
tive terms, than by any thing fixed and determinate.
u Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have en¬
tered into the heart of man, the things which God
hath prepared for them that love him.” 1 Cor. ii. 9.
What a reverence and astonishment does this passage
excite in every hearer of taste and piety ! What ener¬
gy, and at the same time what simplicity, in the expres¬
sion ! How sublime, and at the same time how obscure,
is the imagery !
“ Different was the conduct of Mahomet in his de-
criptions of heaven and of paradise. Unassisted by the
necessary influence of virtuous intentions and Divine Alcoran
inspiration, he was neither desirous, nor indeed able, to —y—*
exalt the minds of men to sublime conceptions, or to ra¬
tional expectations. By attempting to explain what is
inconceivable, to describe what is ineffable, and to ma¬
terialize what in itself is spiritual j he absurdly and im¬
piously aimed to sensualize the purity of the Divine
essence. Thus he fabricated a system of incoherence,
a religion of depravity, totally repugnant indeed to the
nature of that Being, who, as he pretended, was its
object; but therefore more likely to accord with the
appetites and conceptions of a corrupt and sensual age.
“ That we may not appear to exalt our Scriptures
thus far above the Koran by an unreasonable preference,
we shall produce a part of the second chapter of the
latter, which is deservedly admired by the Mahometans,
who wear it engraved on their ornaments* and recite it
in their prayers. ‘ God ! there is no God but he $
the living, the self-subsisting: neither slumber nor sleep
seizeth on him: to him belongeth whatsoever is in hea¬
ven, and on earth. Who is he that can intercede with
him but through his good pleasure ? He knoweth that
which is past, and that which is to come. His throne
is extended over heaven and earth, and the preserva¬
tion of both is to him no burden. He is the high, the
mighty.’ Sale's Kor. ii. p. 30. 4to edit.
“ To this description who can refuse the praise of
magnificence ? Part of that magnificence, however, is to
be referred to that verse of the Psalmist, whence it was
borrowed, ‘ He that keepeth Israel, shall neither slum¬
ber nor sleep.” Psal. cxxi. 4.
“ But if we compare it with that other passage of
the same inspired Psalmist, all its boasted grandeur is
at once obscured, and lost in the blaze of a greater
light.
“ O my God, take me not away in the midst of my
days $ thy years are throughout all generations. Of
old hast thou laid the foundations of the earth 3 and
the heavens are the work of thy hands. They shall
perish, but thou shalt endure : yea all of them shall wax
old, as doth a garment j as a vesture shalt thou change
them, and they shall be changed j but thou art the
same, and thy years shall not fail.’
“ The Koran, therefore, upon a retrospective view
of these several circumstances, far from supporting its
arrogant claim to a supernatural work, sinks below the
level of many compositions confessedly of human origi¬
nal j and still lower does it fall in our estimation, when
compared with that pure and perfect pattern which we
justly admire in the Scriptures of truth.
“ It is therefore abundantly apparent, that no miracle
either was externally performed for the support, or is
internally involved in the composition, of the Mahome¬
tan revelation.”
Alcoran, is also figuratively applied to certain
other books full of impieties and impostures. In this
sense we meet with the Alcoran of the Cordeliers,
which has made a great noise 3 wherein St Irancis is
extravagantly magnified, and put on a level with Jesus
Christ. The Alcoran of the Cordeliers is properly an
extract of a very scarce book, entitled, The Conformity
of the Life of the seraphic father St Francis with the
Life of Christ, published in 1510, 4to 3 since, at Bo¬
logna, in folio. Erasmus Albertus, being by the elec¬
tor of Brandenburg appointed to visit a monastery of
Franciscans,
A L C
Franciscans, found this book $ and being struck with the
extreme folly and absurdity of it, collected a number of
curiosities out of it, and published them under the title
of the Alcoran of the Franciscans, with a preface by
Martin Luther.
ALCORANISTS, among Mahometans, those who
adhere strictly to the letter or text of the Alcoran, from
an opinion of its ultimate sufficiency and perfection.
The Persians are generally Alcoranists, as admitting
the Alcoran alone for their rule of faith. The Turks,
lartars, Arabs, &c. besides the Alcoran, admit a mul¬
titude of traditions. The Alcoranists, among Maho¬
metans, amount to much the same with the Textuaries
among the Jews. The Alcoranists can find nothing
excellent out of the Alcoran : are enemies of philoso¬
phers, metaphysicians, and scholastic writers. With
them the Alcoran is every thing.
ALCOVE, in Architecturei a recess, or part of a
chamber separated by an estrade, or partition of co¬
lumns, and other corresponding ornaments, in which
is placed a bed of state, and sometimes seats to enter¬
tain company. These alcoves are frequent in Spain j
and the bed is raised two or three ascents, with a rail
at the foot.
ALCUINUS, Flaccus, an ecclesiastic of the
eighth century. He was born, it is supposed, in York¬
shire. He was educated, however, at York, under
the direction of Archbishop Egbert, as we learn from
his own letters, in which he frequently calls that great
prelate his beloved master, and the clergy of York the
companions of his youthful studies. As he survived
Venerable Bede about 70 years, it is hardly possible
that he could have received any part of his education
under him, as some writers of literary history have af¬
firmed j and it is worthy of observation, that he never
calls that great man his master, though he speaks of
him with the highest veneration. It is not well known
to what preferments he had attained in the church
before he left England, though some say he was abbot
of Canterbury. The occasion of his leaving his native
country, was his being sent on an embassy by Offa
king of Mercia to the emperor Charlemagne ; who
contracted so great an esteem and friendship for him,
that he earnestly solicited, and at length prevailed up¬
on him, to settle in his court, and become his precep¬
tor in the sciences. Alcuinus accordingly instructed
that great prince in rhetoric, logic, mathematics, and
divinity; which rendered him one of his greatest fa¬
vourites. “ He was treated with so much kindness
and familiarity (says a contemporary writer) by the
emperor, that the other courtiers called him, by way
of eminence, the emperor's delight.'1'' Charlemagne
employed his learned favourite to write several books
against the heretical opinions of Felix bishop of Ur¬
ge!, in Catalonia, and to defend the orthodox faith
against that heresiarch, in the council of Francfort,
A. D. 894 ; which he performed to the entire satis¬
faction of the emperor and council, and even to the
conviction of Felix and his followers, who abandon¬
ed their errors. The emperor consulted chiefly with
Alcuinus on all things relating to religion and learn¬
ing j and, by his advice, did many great things for
the advancement of both. An academy was esta¬
blished in the imperial palace, over which Alcuinus
presided, and in which the princes and prime nobi-
Vol. I. Part II. f
t 577 ]
A L C
lity were educated ; and other academies were esta- Alenin us
bushed in the chief towns of Italy and France, at 11
his instigation, and under his inspection. “ France Alc>'0»ius’
(says one of our best writers of literary history) is in-
debted to Alcuinus for all the polite learning it boast¬
ed of in that and the following ages. The universities
of Paris, Tours, Fulden, Soissons, and many others,
owe to him their origin and increase; those of whom
he was not the superior and founder, being at least en¬
lightened by his doctrine and example, and enriched
by the benefits he procured for them from Charle¬
magne.”. After Alcuinus had spent many years in the
most intimate familiarity with the greatest prince of
his age, he at length, with great difficulty, obtained
leave to retire from court to his abbey of St Martin’s
at Tours. Here he kept up a constant correspondence
by letters with Charlemagne $ from which it appears,
that both the emperor and his learned friend were ani¬
mated with the most ardent love to learning and reli¬
gion, and constantly employed in contriving and exe¬
cuting the noblest designs for their advancement. He
composed many treatises on a great variety of subjects,
in a style much superior in purity and elegance to that
of the generality of writers in the age in which he flou¬
rished. Charlemagne often solicited him, with all the
warmth of a most affectionate friend, to return to court,
and favour him with his company and advice 5 but he
still excused himself; and nothing could draw him from
his retirement in his abbey of St Martin in Tours,
where he died A. D. 804. His works were collected
and published by Andrew du Chesne in one volume fo¬
lio, Paris, 1617. They consist of, I. Tracts upon Scrip¬
ture. . 2. Tracts upon doctrine, discipline, and morality.
3-Historical treatises, letters, and poems. Since that
edition, there has been published an incredible number
of tracts, poems, &cc. ascribed to this author, most of
which, in all probability, were not his.
ALCYON, the trivial name of a species of alcedo.
See Alcedo, Ornithology Index.
ALCYONIUM, an obsolete name of a submarine
plant. It is also used for a kind of coral, or astroites,
frequently found fossil in England.
Alcyonium Stagnum, in Ancient Geography, a lake
in the territory of Corinth, whose depth was unfathom¬
able, and in vain attempted to be discovered by Nero,
Through th is lake Bacchus is said to have descended to
hell, to bring back Semele ; (Pausanias.)
ALCYONIUS, Peter, a learned Italian, who flou¬
rished in the 16th century. He was well versed in the
Greek and Latin tongues, and wrote some pieces of
eloquence which met with great approbation. He
was corrector of the press a considerable time for
dus Manutius, and is entitled to a share in the praises
given to the editions of that learned printer. He pu¬
blished a treatise concerning banishment, which con¬
tained so many fine passages intermixed with others
quite the reverse, that it was thought he had tacked
to somewhat of his own, several fragments of a treatise
of Cicero de Gloria ; and that afterwards, in order to
save himself from being detected in this theft, he burnt
the manuscript of Cicero, the only one extant. Pau-
lus Manutius, in his commentary upon these words of
Cicero, Librum tibi celeriter mittam de gloria, “ I
will speedily send you my treatise on Glory j” has the
following passage relating to this affair: “ He means
4 D (s^ys
A L D [ 5?S ] A L D
Alcyonius (says he) his two books on Glory, which were handed
|| down to the age of our fathers j for Bernard Justinian,
Alderman. jn t[ie Index of his books, mentions Cicero de Gloria.
This treatise, however, when Bernard had left his Avhole
library to a nunnery, could not be found, though sought
after with great care: nobody doubted but Peter Al¬
cyonius, who, being physician to the nunnery, was en¬
trusted with the library, had basely stolen it. And tru¬
ly, in his treatise of Banishment, some things are found
interspersed here and there, which seem not to savour
of Alcyonius, but of some higher author.” The two
orations he made after the taking of Rome, wherein he
represented very strongly the injustice of Charles V. and
the barbarity of his soldiers, were excellent pieces.
There is also an oration ascribed to him, on the knights
who died at the siege of Rhodes.
ALDBOROUGH, a sea-port town of England,
in Suffolk. It is pleasantly situated in a dale be¬
tween a high bill to the westward, on which its large
old-built church stands 5 the sea to the east, and its ri¬
ver running south-west. It is a large, long, ordinary
town, made up of two or three streets of low houses,
running parallel to each other. A quarter of a mile
to the south lies Slaughden, where they have a com¬
modious key, with warehouses for fish : more southerly
still, they have conveniences for drying their north-
sea fish. Their employment in the fishery is their chief
business, which is considerable in the season for catch¬
ing herrings and sprats j and it is the only place in
England for curing red sprats. It is a town corporate,
and sends two members to parliament. Towards the
sea, it has some pieces of cannon planted for its defence.
It is 88 miles north-east from London, and contained
1066 inhabitants in 1810. E. Long. 1.32. N. Lat.52.50.
Aldborough, a market-town in the west riding
of Yorkshire, seated on the river Ouse, 15 miles north¬
west of York, and 200 miles north of London. It
sends two members to parliament. W. Long. o. 20.
N. Lat. 54. 15. It was anciently a Roman city, call¬
ed Isurium Brigantum ; and several coins and monu¬
ments of the Saxons and Romans have been discovered
there.
ALDEBARAN, in Astronomy, a star of the first
magnitude, called in English the buWs eye, as making
the eye of the constellation Taurus. Its longitude is
6 deg. 32 min. 9 sec. of Gemini, and its latitude 5 deg.
29 min. 40 sec. south.
ALDER tree. See Betula, Botany Index.
ALDERHOLM, an island of Sweden, formed by
the three arms of a river running through Gentle, a
town of Nordland, in Sweden, 80 miles north from
Stockholm. Here is a wharf, a repository for planks
and deals, two packing houses, a large customhouse for
taking toll of the ships, an arsenal for cannon, and a
granary.
ALDERMAN, in the British policy, a magistrate
subordinate to the lord-mayor of a city or town-cor¬
porate. The number of these magistrates is not limit¬
ed, but is more or less according to the magnitude of
the place. In London there are 26 $ each having one
of the wards of the city committed to his care. This
office is for life j so that when one of them dies, or re¬
signs, a wardmote is called, who return two persons,
one of whom the lord-mayor and aldermen choose to
supply the vacancy. All the aldermen are justices of the
2
peace, by a charter of 15 Geo. II. The aldermen of AUerma
London, &c. are exempted from serving inferior offi- U
ces j nor shall they be put upon assizes, or serve on ju- AUhelgi
ries, so long as they continue to be aldermen. ^ ~
Alderman, among our Saxon ancestors, was a de¬
gree of nobility answering to earl or count at present.
Alderman was also used, in the tinjje of King Ed¬
gar, for a judge or justice. Thus we tneet with the
titles of aldermannus totms Anglice, aldermannus regis,
comitatis, civitatis, burgi, castelli, hundredi sive wapen-
tachii, et novemdecimorum. According to Spelman,
the aldermannus totius Anglice seems to have been the
same officer who was afterwards styled capitalis justi-
ciarius Anglice, or chief-justice of England 5 the alder¬
mannus regis seems to have been an occasional magi¬
strate, answering to our justice of assize 5 and the alder¬
mannus comitatus, a magistrate who held a middle rank
between what was afterward called the earl and the
sheriff; he sat at the trial of causes with the bishop :
the latter proceeding according to ecclesiastical law,
and the former declaring and expounding the common
law of the land.
ALDERNEY, an island in the British channel,
subject to the crown of Great Britain. It is about
eight miles in compass, and is separated from Cape la
Hogue, in Normandy, by a narrow strait, called the
Race of Alderney, which is a very dangerous passage
in stormy weather when the two currents meet j other¬
wise it is safe, and has depth of water for the largest
ships. Through this strait the French fleet made
their escape after their defeat at La Hogue, in i692»
It is a healthy island, has but one church, is fruitful
both in corn and pasture, and is remarkable for a fine
breed of cows. The inhabitants, for their greater safety,
live together in a town of the same name. The num¬
ber of houses is said to be 200, and the inhabitants
1300. It has but one harbour, called Crabby, which
is at a good distance from the town; and is only fit for
small vessels. To the west lie the range of rocks call¬
ed the Caskets, so dangerous to mariners. W. Long,
2. 17. N. Lat. 49. 50.
ALDHELM, or Adeem, St, bishop of Shirebura
in the time of the Saxon Heptarchy. He is said to
have been the son of Kenred, brother to Ina, king of
the West Saxons*, but, in the opinion of W illiam of
Malmsbury, his father was no more than a distant re¬
lation to the king. Having received the first part of
his education in the school which one Macdulf, a learn¬
ed Scot, had set up in the place where Malmsbury now
stands, he travelled into France and Italy for his im¬
provement. At his return home, he studied some time
under Adrian abbot of St Augustine’s in Canterbury,
the most learned professor of the sciences who had ever
been in England. In these different seminaries he ac¬
quired a very uncommon stock of knowledge ; and be¬
came famous for his learning, not only in England, but
in foreign countries j whence several learned men sent
him their writings for his perusal and correction $ par¬
ticularly Prince Arcivil, a son of the king of Scotland,
who wrote many pieces, which he sent to Aldhelm,
“ entreating him to give them the last polish, by rub¬
bing off their Scots rust.” He was the first English¬
man who wrote in the Latin language both in prose
and verse, and cpmposed a book for the instruction of
his countrymen in the prosody of that language. Be¬
sides
ALD [ 579 ] ALD
!dhc!m s^es ^IS» Wrote several other treatises on various
|| subjects } some of which are lost, and others published
lldred. |,y Martin Delrio and Canisius. Venerable Bede, who
flourished in the end of this and the beginning of the
next century, gives the following character of Aldhelm :
He was a man of universal erudition, having an ele¬
gant style, and being wonderfully well acquainted with
books, both on philosophical and religious subjects.”
In fact, considering the cloud of ignorance by which
he was surrounded, and the great difficulty of acquir¬
ing knowledge without proper instruction, Aldhelm was
a very extraordinary man. From one of his letters to
Hedda bishop of Winchester, concerning the nature of
his studies whilst at Canterbury, he appears to have
been indefatigably determined to acquire every species
of learning in his power. For a copy of this curious
epistle, see Henry’s History, vol. ii. p. 320. King Al¬
fred the Great declared, that Aldhelm was the best of
all the Saxon poets ; and that a favourite song, which
was universally sung in his time, near 200 years after
its author’s death, was of his composition. When he
was abbot of Malmsbury, having a fine voice, and great
skill in music as well as poetry, and observing the
backwardness of his barbarous countrymen to listen to
grave instructions, he composed a number of little
poems, which he sung to them after mass in the sweet¬
est manner $ by which they were gradually instructed
and civilized. After this excellent person had govern¬
ed the monastery of Malmsbury, of which he was the
founder, about 30 years, he was made bishop of Shire-
burn, where he died A. D. 709.—He wrote, 1. De
octo vitiis principalibus. This treatise is extant in Bi¬
bliotheca Patrum of Canisius. 2. lEnigmatum versus
milk. This, with several other of his poems, was
published by Martin Delrio at Mentz, 8vo, 1601.
3. A book addressed to a certain king of Northumber¬
land, named Alfrid, on various subjects. 4. De vita
monachorum. 5. De laude sanctorum. 6. De arithme¬
tic, a. 7. De astrologia. 8. A book against the mistake
of the Britons concerning the celebration of Easter j
printed by Sonius, 1576. 9. De laude virginitatis;
manuscript, in Bennet-college, Cambridge $ published
among Bede’s Opuscula. Besides many sonnets, epistles,
and homilies in the Saxon language.
ALDPORT, an ancient name for Manchester. See
Manchester.
ALDRED, abbot of Tavistock, was promoted to
the bishopric of Worcester in the year 1046. He was
so much in favour with King Edward the Confessor,
and had so much power over his mind, that he obliged
him to be reconciled with the worst of his enemies,
particularly with Sweyn son of the Earl Goodwin, who
had revolted against him, and came with an army to
invade the kingdom. Aldred also restored the union
and friendship between King Edward and Griffith king
of Wales. He took afterwards a journey to Rome,
and being returned into England, in the year 1054,
he was sent ambassador to the emperor Henry 11. He
staid a whole year in Germany, and was very honour¬
ably entertained by Herman archbishop of Cologne,
from whom he learned many things relating to ecclesi¬
astical discipline, which on his return he established in
his own diocese. In the year 1058 he went to Jeru¬
salem, which no archbishop or bishop of England had
ever done before him. Two years after he returned to
England ; and Kinsius archbishop of York dying the Aldred.
22d of December 1060, Aldred was elected in his stead —v^—
on Christmas day following, and was permitted to re¬
tain the see of Worcester with the archbishopric of
York, as some of his predecessors had done. Aldred
went soon after to Rome, in order to receive the
pall from the pope : He was attended by Toston
earl of Northumberland, Giso bishop of Wells, and
Walter bishop of Hereford. The pope received Tos¬
ton very honourably, and made him sit by him in the
synod which he held against the simonists. He grant¬
ed to Giso and Walter their request, because they were
tolerably well learned, and not accused of simony. But
Aldred being by his answers found ignorant, and guil¬
ty of simony, theypope deprived him very severely of
all his honours and dignities ; so that he was obliged
to return without the pall. On the way home he and
his three fellow-travellers were attacked by some rob¬
bers, who took from them all that they had, though
they did not offer to kill them. This obliged them to
return to Rome $ and the pope, either out of compas¬
sion, or by the threatenings of the earl of Northum¬
berland, gave Aldred the pallium j but he was obli¬
ged to resign his bishopric of Worcester. However, as
the archbishopric of York had been almost entirely
ruined by the many invasions of foreigners, King Ed¬
ward gave the new archbishop leave to keep 12 vil¬
lages or manors which belonged to the bishopric of
Worcester. Edward the Confessor dying in 1066,
Aldred crowned Harold his successor. He also crown¬
ed William the Conqueror, after he had made him
take the following oath, viz. that he would protect the
holy churches of God and their leaders j that he would
establish and observe righteous laws j that he would en¬
tirely prohibit and suppress all rapines and unjust judge¬
ments. He was so much in favour with the Conquer¬
or, that this prince looked upon him as a father; and,
though imperious in regard to every body else, he yet
submitted to obey this archbishop: John Brompton
gives us an instance of the king’s submission, which at
the same time shows the prelate’s haughtiness.—It hap¬
pened one day, as the archbishop was at York, that
the deputy-governor or lord-lieutenant going out of the
city with a great number of people, met the arch¬
bishop’s servants, who came to town with several carts
and horses loaded with provisions. The governor ask-'
ed them to whom they belonged $ and they having an¬
swered they were Aldred’s servants, the governor or¬
dered that all these provisions should be carried to the
king’s storehouse. The archbishop sent immediately
some of his clergy to the governor, commanding him
to deliver the provisions, and to make satisfaction to St
Peter, and to him the saint’s vicar, for the injury he
had done them j adding, that if he refused to comply,
the archbishop would make use of his apostolic autho¬
rity against him, (intimating thereby that he wrould ex¬
communicate him). The governor, offended at this
proud message, used the persons whom the archbishop
had sent him very ill, and returned an answer as haugh¬
ty as the message was. Aldred thereupon went to
London to make his complaint to the king ; but in this
very complaint he acted with his wonted insolence j
for meeting the king in the church of St Peter at
Westminster, he spoke to him in these words : “ Hear¬
ken. 0 William; when thou wast but a foreigner, and
4 D a God,
A L D [ 580 ] A L D
AUlred, God, to punish the sins of this nation, permitted thee
Aldrich, to become master of it, after having shed a great deal
^ of blood, I consecrated thee, and put the crown upon
thy head with blessings ; but now, because thou hast
deserved it, I pronounce a curse over thee, instead of
a blessing, since thou art become the persecutor of
God’s church, and of his ministers, and hast broken the
promises and the oaths which thou madest to me be¬
fore St Peter’s altar.” The king, terrified at this dis¬
course, fell upon his knees, and humbly begged the
prelate to tell him, by what crime he had deserved so
severe a sentence. The noblemen, who were present
were enraged against the archbishop, and loudly cried
out he deserved death, or at least banishment, for hav¬
ing offered such an injury to his sovereign ; and they
pressed him with threatenings to raise the king from
the ground. But the prelate, unmoved at all this, an¬
swered calmly, “ Good men, let him lie there, for he
is not at Aldred’s but at St Peter’s feet j he must feel
St Peter’s power, since he dared to injure his vicege¬
rent.” Having thus reproved the nobles by his epis¬
copal authority, he vouchsafed to take the king by the
hand, and to tell him the ground of his complaint.
The king humbly excused himself, by saying he had
been ignorant of the whole matter $ and begged of the
noblemen to entreat the prelate, that he might take off
the curse he had pronounced, and to change it into a
blessing. Aldred was at last prevailed upon to favour
the king thus far ; but not without the promise of se¬
veral presents and favours, and only after the king had
granted him to take such a revenge on the governor as
he thought fit. Since that time (adds the historian)
none of the noblemen ever dared to offer the least in¬
jury. It may be questioned, which was more surpri¬
sing here, whether the archbishop’s haughtiness, who
dared to treat his sovereign after so unbecoming a man¬
ner $ or the king’s stupidity, who suffered such inso¬
lence and audaciousness from a priest.—The Danes
having made an invasion in the north of England in
the year 1068, under the conduct of Harold and Ca¬
nute the sons of King Sweyn, Aldred was so much af¬
flicted at it, that he died of grief the 1 ith of Septem¬
ber in that same year, having besought God that he
might not see the desolation of his church and country.
ALDRICH, Robert, bishop of Carlisle, was born
at Burnham in Buckinghamshire about the year 1493,
and educated at Eaton school j from whence, in 1507,
he was elected scholar of King’s college, Cambridge,
where he took his degree in arts, and was afterwards
proctor of the university. In 152J> he was appointed
master of Eaton school, then became fellow of that
college, and finally provost. In 1529, he went to
Oxford, where, being first incorporated bachelor of
divinity, in the following year he proceeded doctor
in that faculty: in 1531, he was made archdeacon of
Colchester j in 15345 CBnon of Windsor j and the same
year, registrary of the order of the Garter. He was
consecrated bishop of Carlisle in the year 1537, and
died at Horncastle in Lincolnshire in 1556. He wrote,
1. Epist&la ud Gul. Hormanum, in Latin verse; printed
in Harman’s Antibossican, Lond. 1521, of which book
Pitts erroneously makes Aldrich the author. 2. Epi-
grammata varia. 3. Latin verses, and another epistle
to Horman, prefixed to the Vulgaria puerorum of that
author, Lond. 1519,410. 4. Answers to certain que-
3
ries concerning the abuses of the i?iass ; also about recei¬
ving the sacrament.
Aldrich, E)r Henry, an eminent English divine
and philosopher, born at London in 1647, was edu¬
cated at Westminster school under the famous Dr Bus¬
by, and admitted of Christ-church college, Oxford.
He had a great share in the controversy with the Pa¬
pists in the reign of James II. and Bishop Burnet ranks
him among those who examined all the points of Po¬
pery with a solidity of judgment, clearness of argu¬
ment, depth of learning, and vivacity of writing, far
beyond any who had before that time written in our
language. He rendered himself so conspicuous, that
at the Revolution, when Massey the Popish dean of
Christ church fled, his deanery was conferred on him.
In this station he behaved in an exemplary manner, and
that fabric owes much of its beauty to his ingenuity :
it was Aldrich who designed the beautiful square called
Peckwater Quadrangle, which is esteemed an excellent
piece of architecture. In imitation of his predecessor
Dr Fell, he published, yearly, a piece of some ancient
Greek author, as a present to the students of his house.
He published A System of Logic, with some other pieces:
and the revising Clarendon’s History of the Rebellion
was intrusted to him and Bishop Spratt; but it doth
not appear that they made any additions, or consider¬
able alterations in it, as has been asserted by Mr Old-
mixon. Besides his preferments above mentioned, Dr
Aldrich was also rector of Wem in Shropshire. He
was chosen prolocutor of the convocation in 1702.
This worthy person died at Christ-church on the 14th
of December 1710. As to his character, he was a
most universal scholar, and had a taste for all sorts of
learning, especially architecture. Sir John Hawkins
has favoured the public with several particulars relative
to Dr Aldrich’s skill in music ; and on account of the
Doctor’s eminence in this respect, Sir John hath gi¬
ven his life, with his head prefixed. His abilities as
a musician rank him, we are told, among the greatest
masters of the science. He composed many services
for the church, which are well known ; as are also his
anthems, nearly to the number of 20. He adapted,
with great skill and judgment, English words to many
of the notes of Palestrina, Carissimi, Victoria, and other
Italian composers for the church, some of which are
frequently sung in our cathedrals as anthems. By the
happy talent w’hich Dr Aldrich possessed, of naturali¬
zing the compositions of the old Italian masters, and.
accommodating them to an English ear, he increased
the stores of our own church. Though the Doctor
chiefly applied himself to the cultivation of sacred mu¬
sic, yet being a man of humour, he could divert him¬
self by producing pieces of a lighter kind. There are
two catches of his; the one, “ Hark the bonny Christ¬
church Bells;” the other entitled, “ A Smoking
Catch,” to be sung by four men smoking their pipes,
which is not more difficult to sing than diverting to
hear. His love of smoking was, it seems, so excessive,
as to be an entertaining topic of discourse in the uni¬
versity. Such was Dr Aldrich’s regard for the ad¬
vancement of music, and the honour of its professors,,
that he had formed a design of writing a history of the
science ; and the materials from which he proposed to>
compile it are yet extant in the library of his own col¬
lege. It appears from these, materials, that he had.
marked
Aldricli,
A L ^ [ 581 ] ALE
Idrich marked down every thing which he had met with con-
11 cerning music and musicians ; but that he had brought
frovaa- no part of them into any kind of form.
^ , Dr Aldrich is of some note as a Latin poet. In the
Musce Anglicanai, we find two elegant copies of verses
by him ; one on the accession of King William III. and
the other on the death of the duke of Gloucester. Sir
John Hawkins has preserved a humorous translation by
him of the well-known English ballad,
“ A soldier and a sailor,
“ A tinker and a tailor,” &c.
The following epigram, entitled “ Causae Bibendi,”
is likewise ascribed to Dr Aldrich :
“ Si bene quid me miniy Causee sunt qutnque bibejidi,
“ Hospitis Adventus; prcesens Sitis, ztcpxe futura ;
“ Aut Vini Bonitas ; aut quce libel altera Causa.”
The epigram has been thus translated:
“ If on my theme I rightly think,
“ There are five reasons why men drink :
“ Good wine, a friend, because I’m dry,
“ Or lest I should be by and bye,
“ Or any other reason why.”
The translation is not equal to the original. It is
evident, from the verses cited and referred to, that Dr
Aldrich was of a very cheerful and pleasant turn of
mind. Indeed, he is always spoken of as having been
a man of wit; and as one who, to his great talents and
virtues joined those amiable qualities which rendered
him the object of general affection, as well as of gene¬
ral esteem and respect. Having never been married,
he appropriated his income to works of hospitality and
beneficence, and encouraging learning to the utmost of
his power, of which he was a most munificent patron,
as well as one of the greatest men in England, if con¬
sidered as a Christian or a gentlemen. He had always
the interest of his college at heart, whereof he was an
excellent governor. His modesty and humility pre¬
vented him from prefixing his name to the learned
tracts which he published during his life. At his
death he wished to be buried in the cathedral without
any memorial j which his thrifty nephew complied with,
depositing him on the south side of Bishop Fell’s grave,
December 22. eight days after his decease j which hap¬
pened in the 63d or 64th year of his age.
ALDROVANDA. See Botany Index.
ALDROVANDUS, Ulysses, professor of philo¬
sophy and physic at Bologna, the place of his nativity.
He was a most curious inquirer into natural history,
and travelled into the most distant countries on pur¬
pose to inform himself of their natural productions.
Minerals, metals, plants, and animals, were the ob¬
jects of his curious researches j but he applied himself
chiefly to birds, and was at a great expence to have
figures of them drawn from the life. Aubert le Mire
says, that he gave a certain painter, famous in that
art, a yearly salary of 200 crowns, for 30 years and
upwards j and that he employed at his own expence
Lorenzo Bennini and Cornelius Swintus, as well as the
famous engraver Christopher Coriolanus.. These ex-
pences ruined his fortune, and at length reduced him
to the utmost necessity ; and it is said that he died
blind in an hospital at Bologna, at a great age, in
1605. Mr Bayle observes, that antiquity does not
furnish us with an instance of a design so extensive and
so laborious as that of Aldrovandus, with regard to
natural history j that Pliny has treated of more kinds
of subjects, but only touches lightly on them, saying
but a little upon any thing, whereas Aldrovandus has
collected all he could meet with. His compilation, or
that compiled upon his plan, consists of 13 volumes in
folio, several of which were printed after his death.
He himself published his Ornithology, or History of
Buds, in three folio volumes, in 1599 5 und his seven
books of insects, which make another volume of the
same size. The volume Of Serpents, three Of Qua¬
drupeds, one Of Fishes, that Of exanguious Animals,
the History of Monsters, with the Supplement to that
of Animals, the treatise Of Metals, and the Dendro¬
logy or History of Trees, were published at several
times after the death of Aldrovandus, by the care of
different persons ♦, and Aldrovandus is the sole author
only of the first six volumes of this work, the rest having
been finished and compiled by others, upon the plan of
Aldrovandus: a most extensive plan, wherein he not
only relates what he has read in naturalists, but remarks
also what historians have written, legislators ordained,
and poets feigned : he explains also the different uses
which may be made of the things he treats of, in com¬
mon life, in medicine, architecture, and other arts j
in short, he speaks of morality, proverbs, devices, rid¬
dles, hieroglyphics, and many other things which relate
to his subject.
ALDUABIS, in Ancient Geography, a river of Cel¬
tic Gaul, which rising from Mount Jura, separating the
Sequani from the Helvetii, and running through the
county of Burgundy, or the Franche Comte, environs
almost on evei'y side the city of Besan^on ; and run¬
ning by Dole, falls into the Saone near Chalons. By
Caesar, it is cnWtA Alduasdubis; in Ptolemy, Dubis:
now le Doux.
ALE, a fermented liquor obtained from an infusion
of malt, and differing from beer chiefly in. having a less
proportion of hops. (See Brewing). This liquor,
the natural substitute of wine in such,countries as could
not produce the grape, was originally made in Egypt,
the first planted kingdom, on the dispersion from the east,
that was supposed unable to produce grapes. And,
as the Noachian colonies pierced further into the west,
they found, or thought they found, the same defect,-
and supplied it in the same manner. Thus the natives
of Spain, the inhabitants of France, and the aborigines
of Britain, all used an infusion of barley for their ordi¬
nary liquor; and it was called by the various names of
C/celia and Ceria in the first country, Cerevisia in the
second, and Curmi in the last; all literally importing
only the strong water.
“All the several nations (says Pliny) who inhabit'
the west of Europe, have a liquor with which they
intoxicate themselves made of corn and water. The
manner of making this liquor is sometimes different ini
Gaul, Spain, and other countries, and is called by
many various names; but its nature and properties are
everywhere the same. The people of Spain, in parti¬
cular, brew the liquor so well, that it will keep good
a long time. So exquisite is the cunning of mankind,
in gratifying their vicious appetites, that they have
thus invented a method to make water itself intoxi¬
cate^
Aldrovan-
dus
ALE [ 582 ] ALE
Aie. €a^e.,’ The method in which the ancient Britons, and
—v——’ other Celtic nations, made their ale, is thus described
by Isidorus and Orosius. “ The grain is steeped in
water and made to germinate, by which its spirits are
excited and set at liberty j it is then dried and grind¬
ed ; after which it is infused in a certain quantity of
water; which, being fermented, becomes a pleasant,
warming, strengthening, and intoxicating liquor. This
ale was most commonly made of barley, but sometimes
of wheat, oats, and millet.
Anciently the Welch and Scots had also two kinds
of ale, called common ale and spiced ale; and their va¬
lue was thus ascertained by law: If a farmer hath
no mead, he shall pay two casks of spiced ale, or four
casks of common ale, for one cask of mead.” By
this law, a cask of spiced ale, nine palms in height
and 18 palms in diameter, was valued at a sum of mo¬
ney' equal in efficacy to 7I. 10s. of our present money $
and a cask of common ale, of the same dimensions, at
a sum equal to 3I. 15s. This is a sufficient proof, that
even common ale in this period was an article of luxu¬
ry among the Welch, which could only be obtained
by the great and opulent. Wine seems to have been
quite unknown, even to the kings of Wales, in this pe¬
riod, as it is not so much as once mentioned in their
laws} though Giraldus Cambrensis, who flourished
about a century after the Conquest, acquaints us, that
there was a vineyard in his time at Maenarper, near
Pembroke, in South Wales.
Ale was the favourite liquor of the Anglo-Saxons
and Danes, as it had been of their ancestors the an¬
cient Germans. Before their conversion to Christiani¬
ty, they believed that drinking large and frequent
draughts of ale was one of the chief felicities which
those heroes enjoyed who were admitted into the hall of
Odin.
There are various sorts of ale known in Britain, par¬
ticularly pale and brown: the former is brewed from
malt slightly dried ; and is esteemed more viscid than
the latter, which is made from malt more highly dried
or roasted.
Pale ale brewed with hard waters, as those of springs
and wells, is judged the most wholesome, in regard the
mineral particles tend to prevent the cohesion of those
drawn from the grain, and enable them to pass the pro¬
per secretions the better $ softer waters, as those of ri¬
vers, and rain, seem better suited to draw out the sub¬
stance of high dried malts, which retain many igneous
particles, best absorbed in a smooth vehicle.
In Staffordshire, they have a secret of fining ale in
a very short time. Plot conjectures it to be done by
adding alum, or vinegar, in the working.
Ale is prepared various ways, and of various ingre¬
dients, as of wheat, rye, millet, oats, barley, the ber¬
ries of the quickbean, &c.
Some have found that the juice which bleeds from
the birch or sycamore is of great use on this occasion,
applied instead of water. It makes one bushel of malt
go as far as four in the common way.
Some have a method of preparing ale, so that it will
keep, carried to the East or West Indies. The secret
is, by mashing twice with fresh malt j boiling twice ;
and, after shipping it, putting to every five gallons two
new-laid eggs whole, to remain therein. It is said,
that in a fortnight’s time the shell shall be dissolved,
and the eggs become like wind-eggs ; and that after- Ale.
wards the white would disappear, and the yolk remain -v
untouched.
The consumption of ale in these kingdoms is incre¬
dible. It was computed twenty years ago at the value
of four millions yearly, including Great Britain and
Ireland.
The duties on ale and beer make a principal branch
of the revenue in Britain. They were first imposed
by the I2th of Car. II. and have been continued by
several subsequent acts of parliament to first Geo. III.
which lays an additional duty of 3d. per barrel. In
the whole, the brewer of ale and beer for sale shall pay
8s. for every barrel of either above 6s. a barrel j and
for every barrel of 6s. or under, the sum of is. qd.
Medicated Ales, those wherein medicinal herbs have
been infused, or added during the fermentation.
Gill A/le, is that in which the dried leaves of gill or
ground-ivy have been infused. It is esteemed abster¬
sive and vulnerary, and consequently good in disorders
of the breast and obstructions of the viscera.
ALE-Conner, an officer in London, who inspects the
measures used in public houses. There are four ale¬
conners, who are all chosen by the liverymen in com¬
mon hall on Midsummer day.
Alehouses must be licensed by justices of the peace,
who take recognizances of the persons licensed, and
of their sureties, viz. 10I. each, that they will not suf¬
fer unlawful gaming, nor other disorderly practices in
their houses. Every person, excepting those who sell
ale in fairs, neglecting to procure a license, is liable
to a penalty of 40s. for the first offence, 4I. for the
second, and 61. for the third, with all costs. The li¬
cense granted on the first of September, or within
twenty days after, at a general meeting of the justices
for the division to which he belongs, upon his produ¬
cing a certificate to his character, unless, by living in
a city or town-corporate, this last circumstance is dis¬
pensed with, and continues in force for one year only.
Alehouse keepers, selling ale in short measure, are
liable to a penalty not exceeding 40s. and not less
than I os. and likewise to a fine of 10s. for permitting
tippling, &c.
By 29th Geo. II. c. 12. persons keeping alehouses
in Scotland shall be licensed as in England, and the
justices there shall meet annually to license alehouses;
on each of which licenses a fee of is. is payable to the
clerk of the peace. Magistrates of royal boroughs shall
meet yearly for the like purpose j but where there shall
not be a sufficient number of magistrates to act in any
royal borough, justices may grant licenses, to be in force
for one year only. Ibid.
Persons in Scotland convicted of keeping unlicensed
alehouses shall forfeit for the first offence 5s. for the
second 10s. for the third 20s. and to be disqualified ;
and for every subsequent offence 40s. to be levied by
distress and sale, one moiety to the informer, the other
to the poor of the parish. Conviction to be intimated
to the offender, and certified to the clerk of the peace,
and recorded : but persons aggrieved may appeal to the
quarter-sessions. Ibid.
Licenses for houses on the military roads in Scot¬
land shall be issued on payment of is. only to the clerk
of the peace : making out licenses before the same be
stamped, is a penalty of lol. and making them con¬
trary
[ 583 1 ALE
Ale trary to the intention of this act, 5I. and the same shall
|| be vacated, unless the duty and fine be paid, and the
Uectoro- receipt produced, and license stamped. Ibid.
171 anti a. ^ ALE-Silver, a tax paid annually to the lord-mayor
of London by all who sell ale within the city.
ALEA, in Roman antiquity, denotes in general all
manner of games of chance ; but in a more restricted
sense, was used for a particular game played with dice
and tables, not unlike our backgammon.
ALEANDER, Jerome, cardinal and archbishop
of Brindisi, w'as born in 14805 and distinguished him¬
self at the beginning of the reformation, by the oppo¬
sition he made to Luther : for being sent into Ger¬
many as the pope’s nuncio in 1519, he acted, as occa¬
sion served, in the character of both ambassador and
doctor; and declaimed three hours together against
Luther’s doctrine before the diet at Worms, but could
not prevent that celebrated reformer from being heard
in that diet. He published several works, and died at
Rome in 1542.
AleanDER, Jerome, nephew of the former, a learn¬
ed man of the seventeenth century, born in the prin¬
cipality of Friuli, of the same family with the prece¬
ding. When he went to Rome, he was employed as
secretary under Cardinal Octavius Bandini, and dis¬
charged this office with great honour for almost twenty
years. He afterwards, by the persuasion of Urban VIII.
who had a great esteem for him, became secretary to
Cardinal Barberini, whom he accompanied to Rome
when he went there in the character of legate a latere,
and in whose service he died in 1631. He was one of
the first members of the academy of Humorists, wrote
a learned treatise in Italian on the device of the soci¬
ety, and displayed his genius on many different sub¬
jects. Barberini gave him a magnificent funeral at the
academy of Humorists 5 the academists carried his
corpse to the grave 5 and Caspar Simeonibus, one of
the members, made his funeral oration.
ALECTO, one of the Furies, daughter of Ache¬
ron and Night, or, as others would have it, of Pluto
and Proserpine.
ALECTORIA, a stone said to be formed in the
gall-bladder of old cocks, to which the ancients ascri¬
bed many fabulous virtues. This is otherwise called
Alectorius lapis, sometimes Alectorolithos, in English
the cock-stone. The more modern naturalists hold the
alectorius lapis to be originally swallowed down, not
generated in, the stomach and gizzard of cocks and
capons. It is known that many of the fowl kind make
a practice of swallowing pebbles, as it is supposed to be
of service in the business of trituration and digestion.
^ ALECTOROMANTIA, in Antiquity, a species
of divination performed by means of a cock. This is
otherwise called Alectryomancy ; of which there appear
to have been different species. But that most spoken
of by authors was in the following manner: A circle
was described on the ground, and divided into twenty-
lour equal portions 5 in each of these species was writ¬
ten one of the letters of the alphabet, and on each
of the letters was laid a grain of wheat; after which,
a cock being turned loose in the circle, particular no¬
tice was taken of the grains picked up by the cock,
because the letters under them, being formed into a
word, made the answer desired. It was thus, according
to Zonaras, that Libanius and Jamblicus sought who
should succeed the emperor Valens 5 and the cock eat- Alee
ing the grains answering to the spaces 0EOA, several II
whose names began with those letters, as Theodotus, -Venibcrfc>
Theodistes, Theodulus, &c. were put to death 5 which v
did not hinder, but promote Theodosius, to the succes¬
sion. But the story, however current, is but ill sup¬
ported : It has been called in question by some, and re¬
futed by others, from the silence of Marcellinus, Socra¬
tes, and other historians of that time.
ALEE, in the sea-language, a term only used when
the wind, crossing or flanking the line of a ship’s course,
presses upon the masts and sails so as to make her incline
to one side, which is called the lee-side : hence, when
the helm is moved over to this side, it is said to be alee,
or hard-a-lee.
ALEGAMBE, Philip, a celebrated Jesuit, born
at Brussels in I592> distinguished himself by publishing
a Bibliotheque of the writers of his order, and died at
Rome in 1652.
ALEGRETTE, a small town of Portugal, in A-
lentejo, on the confines of Port Alegre, on the river
Caja, which falls into the Guadiana, a little below Ba-
dajoz, near the frontiers of Spanish Estremadura. It
is a very pretty town, and finely situated j seven miles
south-east of Port Alegre, and thirty north of Elvas.
W. Long. 5. 20. N. Lat. 39. 6.
ALEIUS campus, in Ancient Geography, a plain
in Cilicia, on this side the river Pyramus, near the
mountain Chimera, famous for Bellerophon’s wandering
and perishing there, after being thrown off Pegasus;
which is the reason of the appellation.
ALEMANIA, or Allemania, in Ancient Geo¬
graphy, a name of Germany, but not known before
the time of the Antonines, and then used only for a
part. After the Marcomanni and their allies had re¬
moved from the Rhine, a rabble, or collection of peo¬
ple from all parts of Gaul, as the term Alemanni de¬
notes, prompted either by levity or poverty, occupied
the lands, called Decumates by Tacitus, because they
held them on a tithe; now supposed to be the duchy of
Wirtemberg. Such appear to have been the small begin¬
nings of Alemania, which was in after-times greatly en¬
larged: but still it was considered as a distinct part; for
Caracalla, who conquered the Alemanni, assumed the'
surname both of Alemannicus and Germanicus.
ALEMBDAR, an officer in the court of the Grand
Signior, who bears the green standard of Mahomet
when the sultan appears in public on any solemn occa¬
sion.
ALEMBERT, John le Rond d’, an eminent
French philosopher, was born at Paris in 1717. He
derived the name of John le Rond from that of the
church near which, after his birth, he was exposed as
a foundling. His father, informed of this circum¬
stance, listened to the voice of nature and duty, took
measures for the proper education of his child, and for
his future subsistence in a state of ease and indepen¬
dence.
He received his first education in the College of the
Four Nations, among the Jansenists, where he gave
early marks of capacity and genius. In the first year
of his philosophical studies, he composed a Commen¬
tary on the Epistle of St Paul to the Romans. The
Jansenists considered this production as an omen that
portended to the party of Port-Royal a restoration to
som©
ALE [ 5H 1 ALE
Alembert some part of their ancient splendour, and hoped to find
' Sr-—' one day in M. d’Alembert a second Pascal. To ren¬
der this resemblance more complete, they engaged their
rising pupil in the study of the mathematics : but they
soon perceived that his growing attachment to this sci¬
ence was likely to disappoint the hopes they had formed
with respect to his future destination : they therefore en¬
deavoured to divert him from this line j but their en¬
deavours were fruitless.
At his leaving college, he found himself alone and
unconnected with the world: and sought an asylum in
the house of his nurse. He comforted himself with the
hope, that his fortune, though not ample, would bet¬
ter the condition and subsistence of that family, which
was the only one that he could consider as his own :
Here, therefore, he took up his residence, resolving to
apply himself entirely to the study of geometry : And
here he lived, during the space of forty years, with the
greatest simplicity, discovering the augmentation of his
means only by increasing displays of his beneficence,
concealing his growing reputation and celebrity from
these honest people, and making their plain and uncouth
manners the subject of good-natured pleasantry, and
philosophical observation. His good nurse perceived
his ardent activity j heard him mentioned as the writer
of many books ; but never took it into her head that
he was a great man, and rather beheld him with a kind
of compassion. “ You will never” said she to him one
day, “ be any thing but a philosopher—and what is a
philosopher ?—a fool, who toils and plagues himself du¬
ring his life, that people may talk of him when HE IS
NO MORE.”
As M. d’Alembert’s fortune did not far exceed the
demands of necessity, his friends advised him to think
of a profession that might enable him to augment it.
He accordingly turned his views to the law, and took
his degrees in that line j but soon abandoned this
plan, and applied to the study of medicine. Geome¬
try, however, was always drawing him back to his for¬
mer pursuits j and after many ioeffectual efforts to re¬
sist its attractions, he renounced all views of a lucrative
profession, and gave himself over entirely to mathema¬
tics and poverty.
In the year 1741 he was admitted member of the
Academy of Sciences : for which distinguished literary
promotion, at such an early age, he had prepared the
* The way by correcting the errors of a celebrated work*,
ST* which was deemed classical in France in the line of
Beniau. geometry. He afterwards set himself to examine, with
deep attention and assiduity, what must be the motion
of a body which passes from one fluid into another more
dense, in a direction not perpendicular to the surface
separating the two fluids. Every one knows the phe¬
nomenon which happens in this case, and which amuses
children under the denomination of Ducks and Drakes;
but M. d’Alembert was the first who explained it in a
satisfactory and philosophical manner.
Two years after his election to a place in the acade¬
my, he published his Treatise on Dynamics. The new
principle developed in this treatise consisted in esta¬
blishing equality, at each instant, between the changes
that the motion of a body has undergone, and the for¬
ces or powers which have been employed to produce
them j or, to express the thing otherwise, in separating
into two parts the action of the moving powers, and
considering the 07ie as producing alone the motiob of
the body in the second instant, and the other as em-
ployed to destroy that which it had in the first.
So early as the year I744> M. d’Alembert had ap¬
plied this principle to the theory of the equilibrium,
and the motion of fluids } and all the problems before
solved by geometricians became, in some measure, its
corollaries. The discovery of this new principle was
followed by that of a new calculus, the first trials of
which were published in a Discourse on the general
Theory of the Winds, to which the prize-medal was ad¬
judged by the academy of Berlin in the year 1746,
and which was a new and brilliant addition to the fame
of M. d’Alembert.
He availed himself of the favourable circumstance of
the king of Prussia having just terminated a glorious
campaign by an honourable peace, and in allusion to
this, dedicated his work to that prince in the three fol¬
lowing Latin verses i
Here ego de ventis, duni ventorum ocyor alis,
Palantes agit Austriacos Fredericus, et orbi,
Insignis lauro, ramum preetendit olivee.
Swifter than wind, while of the winds I write,
The foes of conquering Frederick speed their flight:
While laurel o’er the hero’s temple bends,
To the tir’d world the olive branch he sends.
This flattering dedication procured the philosopher a
polite letter from Frederick, and a place among his
literary friends.
In the year 1747 d’Alembert applied his new calcu¬
lus of “ Partial Differences” to the problem of vibra¬
ting chords, whose solution, as well as the theory of
the oscillation of the air and the propagation of sound,
had been given but incompletely by the geometricians
who preceded him, and these were his masters or his
rivals.
In the year 1749 he furnished a method of applying
his principles to the motion of any body of a given fi¬
gure j and he solved the problem of the precession of
the equinoxes, determined its quantity, and explained
the phenomenon of the nutation of the terrestrial axis
discovered by Dr Bradley.
In 1752, M. d’Alembert published a treatise on the
Resistance of Fluids, to which he gave the modest title
of an Essay } but which contains a multitude of original
ideas and new observations. About the same time he
published, in the Memoirs of the Academy of Berlin,
Researches concerning the Integral Calculus, which is
greatly indebted to him for the rapid progress it has
made in the present century.
While the studies of M. d’Alembert were confined
to geometry, he was little known or celebrated in his
native country. His connexions were limited to a
small society of select friends : he had never seen any
man in high office except Messrs d’Argenson. Satis¬
fied with an income which furnished him with the ne¬
cessaries of life, he did not aspire after opulence or ho¬
nours, nor had they been hitherto bestowed upon him,
as it is easier to confer them on those who solicit them
than to look out for men who deserve them. His
cheerful conversation, his smart and lively sallies, a hap¬
py knack at telling a story, a singular mixture of ma¬
lice of speech with goodness of heart, and of delicacy
ale [ 585 1 ALE
t. of wit with simplicity of manners, rendered him a plea¬
ding and interesting companion, and his company con¬
sequently was much sought after in the fashionable cir¬
cles. His reputation, at length, made its way to the
throne, and rendered him the object of royal attention
and beneficence. He received also a pension from go¬
vernment, which he owed to the friendship of Count
d’Argenson.
The tranquillity of M. d’Alembert was abated when
his fame grew more extensive, and when it was known
beyond the circle of his friends, that a fine and enlight¬
ened taste for literature and philosophy accompanied
his mathematical genius. Our author’s eulogist ascribes
to envy, detraction, and to other motives equally un¬
generous, all the disapprobation, opposition, and cen¬
sure that M. d’Alembert met with on account of the
publication of the famous Encyclopedical Dictionary of
Arts and Sciences, in conjunction with Diderot. None
surely will refuse the well-deserved tribute of applause
to the eminent displays of genius, judgment, and true
literary taste, with which M. d’Alembert has enriched
the great work now mentioned. Among others, the
Preliminary Discourse he has affixed to it, concerning
the rise, progress, connections, and affinities of all the
branches of human knowledge, is perhaps one of the
first productions of which the philosophy of the present
age can boast, and will be regarded as a striking speci¬
men of just arrangement and sound criticism, and also
as a model of accurate thinking and elegant writing.
Some time after this, D’Alembert published his Phi¬
losophical, Historical, and Philological Miscellanies.
These were followed by the Memoirs of Christina queen
of Sweden ; in which M. d’Alembert showed that he
was acquainted with the natural rights of mankind, and
was bold enough to assert them. His “ Essay on the
Intercourse of Men of Letters with Persons high in
Rank and Office,” wounded the former to the quick,
as it exposed to the eyes of the public the ignominy of
those servile chains, which they feared to shake oft’, or
were proud to wear. A lady of the court hearing one
day the author accused of having exaggerated the des¬
potism of the great, and the submission they require,
answered slyly, If fie had constdted me, I would have
told him still more of the matter.
M. d’Alembert gave very elegant specimens of his
literary abilities in his translations of some select pieces
of Tacitus. But these occupations did not divert him
from his mathematical studies: for about the same time
he enriched the Encyclopedic with a multitude of ex¬
cellent articles in that line, and composed his “ Re¬
searches on several important Points of the System of
the World,” in which he carried to a higher degree of
perfection the solution of the problem of the perturba¬
tions of the planets, that had several years before been
presented to the Academy.
In 1759 he published his “ Elements of Philosophy :”
a work extolled as remarkable for its precision and per¬
spicuity j in which, however, are some tenets relative
both to metaphysics and moral science, that are far
trom being admissible.
The resentment that was kindled (and the disputes
that followed it) by the article Geneva, inserted in the
Encyclopedic, are well known. M. d’Alembert did
not leave this field of controversy with flying colours.
Voltaire was an auxiliary in the contest: but, as, in
Vol. I. Part II. 3
point of candour and decency, he had no reputation Alembert
to lose j and as he weakened the blow of his enemies, II
by throwing both them and the spectators into fits of A’emt>rotb
laughter, the issue of the war gave him little uneasi- ~~
ness. It fell more heavily on D’Alembert j and expo¬
sed him, even at home, to much contradiction and op¬
position.
It was on this occasion that the late king of Prussia
offered him an honourable asylum at his court, and the
place of president of his academy ; and was not of¬
fended at his refusal of these distinctions, but culti¬
vated an intimate friendship with him during the rest
of his life. He had refused, some time before this,
a proposal made by the empress of Russia to intrust
him with the education of the grand duke ;—a proposal
accompanied with all the flattering offers that could
tempt a man ambitious of titles, or desirous of making
an ample fortune : but the objects of his ambition were
tranquillity and study.
In the year 1765, he published his “ Dissertation on
the Destruction of the Jesuits.” This piece drew upon
him a swarm of adversaries, who confirmed the merit
and credit of his work by their manner of attacking
it.
Beside the works already mentioned, he published
nine volumes of memoirs and treatises under the title
of Opuscules; in which he has solved a multitude of
problems relative to astronomy, mathematics, and na¬
tural philosophy j of which our panegyrist gives a par¬
ticular account, more especially of those which exhibit
new subjects, or new methods of investigation.
He published also “ Elements of Music j” and ren¬
dered, at length the system of Rameau intelligible 5 but
he did not think the mathematical theory of the sono¬
rous body sufficient to account for the rules of that art.
He was always fond of music 5 which, on the one
hand, is connected with the most subtle and learned
researches of rational mechanics $ while, on the other,
its power over the senses and the soul exhibits to phi¬
losophers phenomena no less singular, and still more in¬
explicable.
In the year 1772, he was chosen secretary to the
French academy. He formed, soon after this prefer¬
ment, the design of writing the lives of all the deceased
academicians from 1700 to 1772 $ and in the space of
three years he executed this design, by composing 70
eulogies.
M. d’Alembert died on the 29th of October 1783.
There were many amiable lin'es of candour, modesty,
disinterestedness, and beneficence, in his moral charac¬
ter : which are described, with a diffusive detail, in his
doge, by M. Condorcet, Hist, de PAcad. Royale des
Sciences, 1783.
ALEMBIC, a chemical vessel usually made of glass
or copper, formerly used for distillation. The bottom
part, which contained the subject for distillation, is
called, from its shape, the cucurbit; the upper part,
which receives and condenses the steam, is called the
head, the beak of which is fitted into the neck of a re¬
ceiver. Retorts, and the common worm still, are now
more generally employed.
ALEMBROTH, in the writings of the alchemists,
a word used for a sort of fixed alkaline salt, which had
the power of the famous alkahest, in dissolving bodies,
opening the pores of most or all known substances, and
4 E thence,
ALE [ 586 ] ALE
Alembroth thence, as well as by destroying sulphurs, promoting
|| the separation of metals from their ores.—It is also
Aleppo. use(i for a compound of corrosive mercury and sal am-
v~ mon;ac>
ALENIO, Julius, a Jesuit, born at Brescia in the
republic of Venice. He travelled into the eastern
countries ; and arrived at Macao in 1610, where he
taught mathematics. From thence he went to the em¬
pire of China, where he continued to propagate the
Christian religion for thirty-six years. He was the
first who planted the faith in the province of Xansi,
and he built several churches in the province of Fokien.
Fie died in August 1649, leaving behind him several
works in the Chinese language.
ALENTEJO, a province of Portugal, between the
rivers Taj© and Guadiana : the soil is very fertile, and
the inhabitants laborious and industrious. The princi¬
pal town is Evora.
ALENZON, a town of France, the capital of the
department of Orne, in Lower Normandy. It is sur¬
rounded with good walls, and flanked with towers. The
castle was formerly a place of great consequence, and
has held out long sieges. It has but one parish-church,
which has a bold and noble front 5 and in 1815 had
13,234 inhabitants. It is seated on the river Sarte,
in a vast open plain, which produces all sorts of corn
and fruit. Near it there are quarries of stone fit for
building, wherein are found a sort like Bristol stones.
The trade of Alenzon is in linen, lace, stuffs, and lea¬
ther. It is 20 miles north of Mons, 63 south-by-west
of Rouen, and 88 south-west of Paris. E. Long. o. 10.
N. Lat. 48. 25.
ALEPPO, or Halab, the capital of a pachalic,
and of all Syria, and the ordinary residence of the pa¬
cha, is situated in the vast plain which extends from
the Orontes to the Euphrates, and which towards the
south terminates in the desert. It is built on eight
hills or eminences, on the highest of which the castle
is erected, and is supposed to be the ancient Bersea.
This mount is of a conic form, and seems in a great
measure to be raised with the earth thrown up out of
a deep broad ditch which surrounds it. The suburbs
to the north-north-east are next in height to this, and
those to the west-south-west are much lower than the
parts adjacent, and than any other part of the city.
The houses are large and commodious, having terraces
on their tops, and generally sky-lights in form of a
dome to let the light into the rooms, which from their
loftiness, the gilding on the window shutters, cup¬
board doors, &c. have at first entrance a very grand
and agreeable effect. They are all so equal in height,
that there are seldom any steps to ascend or descend in
going from one house to another j while several large
vaulted streets increase the facility of communication,
by affording a passage to every part of the city free
from the embarrassment of the open streets. They are
carefully paved j have gutters and a foot-pavement on
each side} and the middle ot the street is laid with
brick, the small end upwards, for the convenience of
the horses. F here is also a cleanliness observed here
unknown to the other cities of Turkey, and which is
not attended with the trouble of our scavengers, there
being ass-drivers who go about the city and take up
the rubbish and dust, which each inhabitant is obliged
to sweep together j and though the heat of the climate
2
renders this labour more easy, the same heat obliges A!epp0
them to greater cleanliness in order to preserve the sa-—v—>
lubrity of the air.
The mosques in Aleppo are numerous, and some few
of them magnificent. Before each of them is an area,
with a fountain in the middle, designed for ablutions
before prayers ; and behind some of the larger there
are little gardens. There are many large khans, or ea-
ravanseras, consisting of a capacious square, on all sides
of which are a number of rooms, built on a ground-
floor, used occasionally for chambers, warehouses, or
stables. Above stairs there is a colonnade or gallery
on every side, in which are the doors of a number of
small rooms, wherein the merchants, as well strangers
as natives, transact most of their business.
The bazars or market-places are long covered nar¬
row streets, on each side of which are a great number
of small shops, just sufficient to hold the tradesman and
his goods, the buyer being obliged to stand without.
Each sepai’ate branch of business has a particular bazar,
which is locked up, as well as the streets, an hour and
a half after sunset: but the locks are of wood, though
the doors are cased with iron. The slaughter houses
are in the suburbs, open to the fields. The tanners
have a khan to work in near the river. To the south¬
ward in the suburbs they burn lime; and a little be¬
yond that there is a village where they make ropes and
catgut. On the opposite side of the river, to the west¬
ward, there is a glass-house, where they make a coarse
white glass, in the winter only $ for the greatest part
of this manufacture is brought from a village 35 miles
westward.
The situation of Aleppo, beside the advantage of
a rich and fruitful soil, possesses also that of a stream
of fresh water, which never becomes dry. This rivu¬
let, which is about as large as that of the Gobelins at
Paris, or the New river near London, rises in the
mountains of Aentab, and terminates six leagues be¬
low Aleppo, in a morass full of wild boars and pelicans-
Near Aleppo, its banks, instead of the naked rocks
which line them in the upper part of its course, are
covered with a fertile earth, and laid out in gardens,
or rather orchards, which, in a hot country, and espe¬
cially in Turkey, cannot but be delightful. The city
is in itself one of the most agreeable in Syria, and is
perhaps the cleanest and best built of any in Turkey.
On whatever side it is approached, its numerous mi¬
narets and domes present an agreeable prospect to the
eye, fatigued with the continued sameness of the brown
and parched plains. In the centre is an artificial moun¬
tain surrounded by a dry ditch, on which is a ruinous
fortress. From hence we have a fine prospect of the
whole city, and to the north discover the snowy tops
of the mountains of Bailan ; and, on the west, those
which separate the Orontes from the sea 5 while to the
south and east, the eye can discern as far as the Eu¬
phrates. In the time of Omar, this castle stopped the
progress of the Arabs for several months, and was at
last taken by treachery, but at present would not be
able to resist the feeblest assault. Its slight wall, low,
and without a buttress, is in ruins j its little old towers
are in no better condition } and it has not four can¬
non fit for service, not excepting a culverine nine
feet long, taken from the Persians at the siege ot
Bassova. Three hundred and fifty janizaries, who
should
ALE
Aleppo* should form the garrison, are busy in their shops, and
—v-—^ the aga scarcely finds room in it to lodge his retinue.
It is remarkable that this aga is named immediately
by the Porte, which, ever suspicious, divides as much
as possible the different offices. Within the walls of
the castle is a well, which, by means of a subterrane¬
ous communication, derives its water from a spring a
league and a quarter distant. In the environs of the
city, we find a number of large square stones, on the
top of which is a turban of stone, which are so many
tombs. riiere are many rising grounds round it,
which, in case of a siege, would greatly facilitate the
approaches of the assailants. Such, among others, is
that on which the house of the Derviches stands, and
which commands the canal and the rivulet: Aleppo,
therefore, cannot be esteemed a place of importance
in war, though it be the key of Syria to the north ;
but, considered as a commercial city, it has a different
appearance. It is the emporium of Armenia and
Diarbekar ; sends caravans to Bagdad and into Persia,
and communicates between the Persian gulf and India
by Bassora, with Bgypt and Mecca by Damascus, and
with Europe by Scanderoon (Alexandretta) and La-
takia. Commerce is there principally carried on by
barter. The chief commodities are raw or spun cot¬
tons, clumsy linen fabricated in the villages, silk stuffs
manufactured in the city, copper, bourres (coarse
cloths) like those of Rouen, goats hair brought from
Natolia, the gall nuts of the Kourdestan, the mer¬
chandise of India, such as shawls and muslins, and pis¬
tachio nuts of the growth of the neighbourhood The
articles supplied by Europe are the Languedoc cloths,
cochineal, indigo, sugar, and some other groceries.
The coffee of America, though prohibited, is introdu¬
ced, and serves to mix with that of Moka. The
French have at Aleppo a consul and seven counting-
houses j the English and the Venetians two, and the
merchants of Leghorn and Holland one. The em¬
peror appointed a consul there in 1784, in the person
of a rich Jew merchant, who shaved his beard to as¬
sume the uniform and the sword. Russia has also sent
one very lately. Aleppo is not exceeded in extent by
any city in Turkey, except Constantinople and Cairo,
and perhaps Smyrna. The number of inhabitants has
been computed at 200,000 j but in these calculations
certainty is impossible. However, if we observe that
this city is not larger than Nantes or Marseilles, and
that the houses consist only of one story, wre shall per¬
haps not think it probable they exceed 100,000. The
people of this city, both Turks and Christians, are
witli reason esteemed the most civilized in all Turkey ;
and the European merchants no where enjoy so much
liberty, or are treated with so much respect.
The air of Aleppo is very dry and piercing, but at
the same time very salubrious for all who are not trou¬
bled with asthmatic complaints. The city, however,
and the environs, are subject to a singular endemial
disorder, which is called the ringworm or pimple of
Aleppo : it is in fact a pimple which is at first inflam¬
matory, and at length becomes an ulcer of the size of
the nail. The usual duration of this ulcer is one year ;
it commonly fixes on the face, and leaves a scar which
disfigures almost all the inhabitants. It is alleged that
every stranger who resides there three months is at¬
tacked with it; experience has taught that the best
[ 587 ]
ALE
mode of treatment is to make use of no remedy. No
reason is assigned for this malady : but M. Volney su¬
spects it proceeds from the quality of the water, as
it is likewise frequent in the neighbouring villages,
in some parts of XJiarbekar, and even in certain di¬
stricts near Damascus, where the soil and the water
have the same appearances. Of the Christian inhabi¬
tants the greater number are Greeks, next to them
the Armenians, then the Syrians, and lastly the Maro-
nites \ each of whom has a church in the quarter called
Judida ; in which quarter, and the parts adjacent, most
of them reside. The common language is the vulgar
Arabic, but the Turks of condition use the Turkish.
Most of the Armenians can speak the Armenian, some
few Syrians understand Syriac, and many of the Jews
Hebrew ; but scarce one of the Greeks understands a
word of Greek. The people in general are of a mid¬
dle stature, and tolerably well proportioned ; but they
seem neither vigorous nor active. Both sexes are hand¬
some when young : but the beard soon disfigures the
men : and the women, as they come early to maturity,
also fade very soon •, females are generally married from
14 to 18 years of age, and many under 14. The
people of rank here are polite and affable, making al¬
lowances for that superiority which the Mahometan re¬
ligion instructs its votaries to assume over all who hold
a different faith. Hie bread is generally of wheat
flour made into thin cakes, but very ill prepared, and
is generally eaten as soon as it comes out of the oven.
The principal people have small loaves of finer flour,
which are well fermented and baked. Besides these,
there are a variety of biscuits, most of which are strew¬
ed on the top with some kind of seeds. The Euro¬
peans have very good bread, baked and prepared in the
French manner. All the inhabitants of both sexes
smoke tobacco to great excess •, even the very servants
have almost constantly a pipe in their mouth. Coaches
or carriages are not used here ; therefore persons of
quality ride on horseback in the city, with a number of
servants walking before them, according to their rank :
ladies of the first distinction are even compelled to
walk on foot in the city, or to any place at a moderate
distance ; in longer journeys they are carried by mules,
in a kind of couch close covered up. There are a
number of public bagnios in this city, which are used
by people of all ranks, except those of the highest dis¬
tinction, who commonly have baths and every other
convenience in their own houses. Aleppo is 70 miles
east of Scanderoon, on the sea-coast, and 175 north-by¬
east of Damascus. E. Long. 37. 4. N. Lat. 36. 12.
Aleppo, JL'he Pachalic of, one of the five govern¬
ments into which Syria is divided. It comprehends
the country extending from the Euphrates to the Me¬
diterranean, between two lines, one drawn from Scan¬
deroon to Beer, along the mountains: the other from
Beles to the sea, by Mara and the bridge of Shoger.
This space principally consists of two plains, that of
Antioch to the west, and that of Aleppo to the east :
the north and the sea-coast are occupied by consider-
ab.y high mountains, known to the ancients by the
name of Amanus and of Rhosus. -In general, the
soil of this government is fat and loamy. The lofty
and vigorous plants which shoot up everywhere after
the winter rains prove its fertility, but its actual fruit¬
fulness is but little. The greatest part of the lands lie
4 E 2 waste ;
Aleppo.
—-v—-
ALE [ 588 ] ALE
Aleppo, waste j scarcely can we trace any marks of cultivation
 v——1 in the environs of the towns and villages. Its princi¬
pal produce consists in wheat, barley, and cotton, which
are found especially in the flat country. In the moun¬
tains, they rather choose to cultivate the vine, mulber¬
ry, olive, and fig trees. The sides of the hills towards
the sea-coast are appropriated to tobacco, and the terri¬
tory of Aleppo to pistachios. The pasturage is not to
be reckoned, because that is abandoned to the wander¬
ing hordes of the Turcomans and Curds.
In the greater part of the pachalics the pacha is, as
his title imports, at once the viceroy and farmer-gene¬
ral of the country ; but in that of Aleppo he does not
possess the latter office. This the Porte has bestowed
on a mehassel or collector, who is immediately account¬
able for what he receives. His lease is only for a year.
The present rent of his farm is 800 purses (above
40,000k) ; but to this must be added the price of the
babouches (Turkish slippers), or a present of three or
four thousand pounds, to purchase the favour of the
vizier, and men in office. For these two sums the far¬
mer receives all the duties of the government; which
are first, The produce of import and export duties on
merchandise coming from Europe, India, and Constan¬
tinople, and on that exported in exchange. Second¬
ly, The taxes paid by the herds of cattle brought
every year by the Turcomans and Curds from Armenia
and Hiarbekar, to be sold in Syria. Thirdly, The
fifth of the salt-works of Hjeboul. And, lastly, The
miri, or land-tax. These united may produce about
6o,oool.
The pacha, deprived of this lucrative branch of the
administration, receives a fixed allowance of about
8300k This revenue has always been inadequate to
the expences j for besides the troops he is obliged
to maintain, and the reparation of the highways and
fortresses, the expences of which he is obliged to de¬
fray, he is under the necessity of making large pre¬
sents to the ministers, in order to keep his place; but
the Porte adds to the account the contributions he
may levy on the Curds and Turcomans, and his extor¬
tions from the villages and individuals; nor do the
pachas come short of this calculation. Abdi Pacha,
who governed 13 or 14 years ago, carried off, at the
end ot 15 months, upwards of 160,000k by laying
under contribution every trade, even the very cleaners
of tobacco-pipes; and very lately another of the same
name nas been obliged to fly for similar oppressions.
The former was rewarded by the divan with the com¬
mand of an army against the Russians ; but if the lat¬
ter has not enriched himself, he will be strangled as an
extortioner. Such is the ordinary progress of affairs in
Turkey !
In consequence of such wretched government, the
gieater part of the pachalics in the empire are impo¬
verished and laid waste. This is the case in particular
with that of Aleppo. In the ancient cleftars, or re¬
gisters of imposts, upwards of 3200 villages were rec¬
koned ; but at present the collector can scarcely find
400. Such of our merchants as have resided ’ there
20 years, have themselves seen the greater part of the
environs of Aleppo become depopulated. The travel¬
ler meets with nothing but houses in ruins, cisterns
rendered useless, and fields abandoned. Those who
cultivated them have fled into the towns, where the po¬
pulation is absorbed, but where at least the individual Aleppo
conceals himself among the crowd from the rapacious ||
hands of despotism. Alet.
ALERIA, Alalia, or Alaria, in Ancient Geo-' ^
graphy, a town of Corsica, situated near the middle of
the east side of the island, on an eminence, near the
mouth of the river Rotanus mentioned by Ptolemy;
built by the Phocseans (Diodorus Siculus). After¬
wards Sylla led a colony thither. It is now in ruins,
and called Aleria Distrutta.
ALES, Alexander, a celebrated divine of the con¬
fession of Augsbourg, was born at Edinburgh the 23d of
April 1500. He soon made a considerable progress
in school divinity, and entered the lists very early
against Luther, this being then the great controversy
in fashion, and the grand field wherein all authors,
young, and old, used to display their abilities. Soon
after, he had a share in the dispute which Patrick Ha¬
milton maintained against the ecclesiastics, in favour of
the new faith he had imbibed at Marpurg. He en¬
deavoured to bring him back to the Catholic religion;
but this he could not effect, and even began himself to
doubt about his own religion, being much affected by
the discourse of this gentleman, and still more by the
constancy he showed at the stake, where David Beaton,
archbishop of St Andrew’s, caused him to be burnt.
Beginning thus to waver, he was himself persecuted
with so much violence, that he was obliged to retire
into Germany, where he became at length a perfect
convert to the Protestant religion. The change of re¬
ligion which happened in England after the marriage
of Henry VIII. with Anna Bullen, induced Ales to
go to London in 1535. He was highly esteemed by
Cranmer archbishop of Canterbury, Latimer, and
Thomas Cromwell, who were at that time in high fa¬
vour with the king. Upon the fall of these favourites,
he was obliged to return to Germany ; where the elec¬
tor of Brandenburg appointed him professor of divi¬
nity at Frankfort upon the Oder, in 1540. But lea¬
ving this place upon some disgust, he returned to Leip-
sic, where he was chosen professor of divinity, and died
in March 1565. He wrote a Commentary on St John,
on the Epistles to Timothy, and on the Psalms, &c.
ALESA, Al^isa, or Halesa, in Ancient Geogra-
phy, a town of Sicily, on the Tuscan sea, built, accor¬
ding to Diodorus Siculus, by Archonides of Herbita,
in the second year of the 94th Olympiad, or 403 years
before Christ; situated on an eminence about a mile
from the sea : now in ruins. It enjoyed immunity from
taxes under the Romans (Diodorus, Cicero). The in¬
habitants were called Halesini (Cicero, Pliny) ; also
Alesini and Alcesini.
ALESHAM, a small neat town in Norfolk. It is
15 miles north of Norwich, and 121 north-east by
north of London. E. Long. o. 30. N. Lat. 52. <13.
Population 1760, in 1810.
ALESIA, in Ancient Geography, called Alexia by
Livy and others ; a town of the Mandubii, a people of
Celtic Gaul ; situated, according to Caesar, on a very
high hill, whose foot w’as washed on two sides by two
rivers. I he town was of such antiquity, that Diodo¬
rus Siculus relates it was built by Hercules. It is sup¬
posed to be the city of Alise, in the duchy of Burgun-
gy, not far from Dijon.
ALET, a town of France, in the department of the
Aude,
ALE [5
A]el Autle, and district of Limoux, at the foot of the Pyre-
|j nees. it is remarkable for its baths, and for the grains
sander. g0]j} ail[} s[]ver iound in the stream which runs from
' ‘ the Pyrenean mountains, at the foot of which it stands.
It is seated on the river Ande, 15 miles south of Car-
cassone, and 37 north west of Narbonne. E. Long.
2. 5. N. Lat. 42. 59.
ALETRIS. See Botany Index.
ALETUM, or Aleta, in Ancient Geography, a
town of Celtic Gaul, now extinct. From its ruins
arose St Male in Brittany, at the distance of a mile.
Its ruins are called Guich Aleth in the British.
ALEURITES. See Botany Index.
ALEUIIOMANCY, the same with what was
otherwise called alphitomatitia, and crithomantia, and
means an ancient kind of divination performed by
means of meal or flour.
ALEUTIAN or Aleotsky Islands, a group or
chain of islands on the north-east side of Kamschatka,
and near the continent of America, which are subject
to Russia. Part of these islands were discovered by
Behring in the year -tydU anfl ^ie rest different pe¬
riods since that time. Captain Cook visited these
islands in 177^* ai*(i directed his researches and obser¬
vations to a survey of them and of the adjacent coasts
of Asia and America. On the Aleutian islands and
the neighbouring coast, the Russians have formed nu¬
merous establishments for the support of the fur-trade,
which is one of the most advantageous commercial
concerns to the Russian empire. Captain Billings,
who was set out by the late empress Catherine to
make discoveries in the north-east sea, explored, in the
summer i’jqo, the whole chain of these islands. They
have since been visited by Krusenstern. They lie be¬
tween the 51st and 56th degrees N. Lat. and the 164th
and the 597th degrees of E. Long. See Aleutian
Islands, Supplement.
ALEXANDER the Great, king of Macedonia.
His father Philip laid the plan of that extensive empire,
which his son afterwards completed. Philip, having
made himselt master of Greece, began to cast his eyes
upon Persia, with a view to retaliate upon that haughty
empire the injuries of former times. It was the po¬
pular topic of the day. But this prince was cut off in
the midst of his enterprise. Such, however, was the
influence of Alexander in the assembly of the Grecian
states, that be was created general of their combined
forces in the room of his father. Having made every
needful preparation, at the head of a veteran army he
invaded Asia. The lieutenants of Darius, who was
then king of Persia, opposed him at the river Grani-
cus, where Alexander obtained a complete victory, af¬
ter which he pursued his march through Asia. At
Issus, near Scanderoon, he was met by Darius in per¬
son, at the head of a prodigious army. Here lie ob¬
tained a second victory; and took the camp of Darius,
together with his family, whom he treated with the
utmost humanity. Contrary to all the maxims of war,
instead of pursuing Darius, he made an excursion into
Egypt *, and, as far as appears, through no better mo¬
tives than those of vanity. Here he was acknowledged
to he the son of Jupiter Ammon. In the mean time
Darius recruited his strength, and got together an ar-
Hiy superior to what he brought into the plain of Issus.
89 1 ALE
Alexander having finished his Egyptian expedition, tra- Alexander,
versed Asia, and passed the Euphrates. At Arbela, a ' ■ v— '
town in Assyria, he met Darius. Here a decisive
battle was fought, which put all Persia into the hands
01 Alexander. His ambition not being satisfied with
the conquest of that vast country, he projected an ex¬
pedition into India. Here he met with great opposi¬
tion from I orus, a gallant prince, whom in the end he
1 educed. Beyond the Ganges Jay a country still un¬
subdued. He notified it to bis army, that he proposed
to pass the river. But these veterans, harassed with
their fatigues, and seeing no end of their labour, muti¬
nied, and refused to march further. The disappointed
chief was therefore obliged to return. At Babylon he
proposed to receive ambassadors, appoint governors, and
settle his vast monarchy; but his excesses put an end
to his life in the midst of his designs, and in the flower
of his age.
I he character of this hero is so familiar to everybo¬
dy, that it is almost needless labour to draw it. All
the world knows, says Mr Bayle, that it was equally
composed of very great virtues and very great vices.
He had no mediocrity in any thing but bis stature :
in his other properties, whether good or bad, he was
all extremes. His ambition rose even to madness. His
father was not at all mistaken in supposing the bounds
of Macedon too small for his son : for bow could Ma-
cedon bound the ambition of a man, who reckoned <
the whole world too small a dominion ? He wept at
hearing the philosopher Anaxarchus say, that there was
an infinite number of worlds : his tears were owing to
his despair of conquering them all, since he had not
yet been able to conquer one. Livy, in a short di¬
gression, has attempted to inquire into the events which
might have happened, if Alexander, after the conquest
of Asia, had brought his arms into Italy. Doubtless
things might have taken a very different turn with
him ; and all the grand projects, which succeeded so
well against an efleminatePersian monarch, might easily
have miscarried if he had had to do with rough hardy
Roman armies. And yet the vast aims of this mighty
conqueror, if seen under another point of view, may ap¬
pear to have been confined in a very narrow compass;
since, as we are told, the utmost wish of that great
heart, for which the whole earth wras not big enough,
was, after all, to be praised by the Athenians : for it
is related, that the difficulties which he encountered in
order to pass the Hydaspes, forced him to cry out,
“ O Athenians, could you believe to what dangers I
expose myself for the sake of being celebrated by
you ?” But Bayle affirms, that this was quite consis¬
tent with the vast unbounded extent of his ambition,
as he wanted to make all future time his own, and be
an object of admiration to the latest posterity ; yet did
not expect this from the conquest of worlds, but from •
books. He was perfectly in the right, says Bayle ;
“ for if Greece had not furnished him with good wri¬
ters, he Avould long ago have been as much forgotten
as the kings who reigned in Macedon before Amphi-V
tryon.”
Alexander has been praised upon the score of con-
tmency, yet his life could not surely be quite regular
in that respect. Indeed, the fire of bis early youth ap¬
peared so cold towards women, that his mother sus¬
pected ,
ALE [ 590 ] ALE
Alexander, pected him to be impotent $ and to satisfy herself in
—v-'—' this point, did, with the consent of Philip, procure a
very handsome courtezan to lie with him, whose ca¬
resses, however, were all to no purpose. His behaviour
afterwards to the Persian captives shows him to have had
a great command over himself in this particular. The
wife of Darius was a finished beauty $ her daughters
likewise were all beauties $ yet this young prince, who
had them in his power, not only bestowed on them all
the honours due to their high rank, but managed their
reputation with the utmost delicacy. They were kept
as in a cloister concealed from the world, and secured
from the reach of every dishonourable (not only at¬
tack, but) imputation. He did not give the least
handle to scandal, either by his visits, his looks, or his
words : and for other Persian dames his prisoners,
equally beautiful in face and shape, he contented him¬
self with saying gaily, that they gave indeed much pain
to his eyes. The amazon Thalestris could not obtain
from him a compliance with her gallant request till af¬
ter a delay of thirteen days. In the mean time, what are
we to conclude from his causing his favourite mistress
Pancaste to be drawn naked by Apelles, though it is
true he gave her to the painter, who fell in love with
her P What of that immoderate love of boys, which
Athenaeus relates of him ? What of that prodigious
number of wives and concubines which he kept ?
His excesses with regard to wine were notorious,
and beyond all imagination ; and he committed, when
drunk, a thousand extravagancies. It was owing to
wine, that he killed Clitus, who saved his life, and
burnt Persepolis, one of the most beautiful cities of the
East: he did this last indeed at the instigation of the
courtezan Thais $ but this circumstance made it only
the more heinous. It is generally believed, that he
died by drinking immoderately : and even Plutarch,
who affects to contradict it, owns that he did nothing
but drink the whole day he was taken ill.
In short, to sum up the character of this prince, we
cannot be of opinion, that his good qualities did in
anywise compensate for his bad ones. Heroes make a
noise : their actions glare, and strike the senses forci¬
bly ; while the infinite destruction and misery they oc¬
casion lie more in the shade, and out of sight. One
good legislator is worth all the heroes that ever did or
will exist. See Macedon.
Alexander ab Alexandro, a Neapolitan law¬
yer, of great learning, who flourished toward the end
of the 15th and beginning of the 16th century. He
followed the profession of the law first at Naples,
afterwards at Rome : but he devoted all the time he
could spare to the study of polite literature j and at
length he entirely left the bar, that he might lead a
more easy and agreeable life with the Muses. The par¬
ticulars of his life are to be gathered from his work en¬
titled “ D ies Geniales We are there informed,
that he lodged at Rome, in a house that was haunted ;
and he relates many surprising particulars about the
ghost. He says also, that when he was very young, he
went to the lectures of Philelphus, who explained at
Rome the Tusculan questions of Cicero •, he was there
also when Nicholas Perot and Domitius Calderinus read
their lectures upon Martial. The particular time when
he died is not known ; but he was buried in the mo¬
nastery of the Olivets. Tiraquea wrote a learned com¬
mentary upon his work, which was printed at Lyons in Almnd
1587, and reprinted at Leyden, in 1673, with the notes ^
of Dennis Godfrey, Christopher Colerus, and Nicholas
Mercerus.
Alexander, Neekha,7n, an eminent English wri¬
ter in the 12th and 13th centuries, born at St Al¬
ban’s in Hertfordshire. In 1215 he was made abbot
of Exeter, and died in 1227. LI® wrote several works,
which were never published 5 but they are to be found
in manuscript in the libraries of England and other
countries.
Alexander, Noel, an indefatigable writer of the
17th century, born at Rouen in Normandy, 1639. Af¬
ter finishing his studies at Rouen, he entered into the
order of Dominican friars, and was professed there
in 1655. Soon after he went to Paris, to go through a
course of philosophy and divinity in the great convent,
where he distinguished himself so, that he was appointed
to teach philosophy there, which he did for 12 years,
M. Colbert showed him many marks of his esteem ;
and being determined to omit nothing to perfect the
education of his son, afterwards archbishop of Rouen,
he formed an assembly of the most learned persons, whose
conferences upon ecclesiastical history might be of ad¬
vantage to him. Father Alexander was invited to this
assembly, where he exerted himself with so much ge¬
nius and ability, that he gained the particular friend¬
ship of young Colbert, who showed him the utmost re¬
gard as long as he lived. These conferences gave rise
to Alexander’s design of writing an ecclesiastical histo¬
ry ; for, being desired to reduce what was material in
these conferences to writing, he did it with so much
accuracy, that the learned men who composed this as¬
sembly, advised him to undertake a complete body of
church history. This he executed with great assiduity,
collecting and digesting the materials himself, and writ¬
ing even the tables with his own hand. He at last
completed his work in 1686. Towards latter part of
his life, he was afflicted with the loss of his sight; a
most inexpressible misfortune to one whose whole plea¬
sure was in study, yet he bore it with great patience
and resignation. He died merely of a decay of nature,
1724, in the 86th year of his age.
Alexander Severus, emperor of Rome, succeed¬
ed Heliogabalus about A. D. 222, when but 16 years
of age. His mother’s name was Mammaea, and by her
advice he in a great measure regulated his conduct. He
applied himself to the reformation of abuses, the state
having been greatly disordered by the vicious conduct
of his predecessor ; he was a most strict lover of justice,
an encourager of learning and learned men, and favour¬
able to the Christians. He made a successful expedi¬
tion against the Persians ; but endeavouring to reform
his troops, who had grown very licentious under the
late bad government, they murdered him at the insti¬
gation of Maximinus, in the 29th year of his age, to¬
gether with his mother, A. D. 235.
Alexander VI. Pope, had four bastards when he
was cardinal, for one of which he had so great affec¬
tion, that he stuck at nothing to raise him. Designing
to poison some cardinals, he was poisoned himself, A, D.
1503. See Borgia.
Alexander VII. Pope. See Chigi.
Alexander, bishop of Lincoln, in the reigns of
Henry I. and Stephen, was a Norman by birth, and ne-
, phew
ALE [ 59r
l tander. ^,e f^nious Roger, bishop of Salisbury, who
, ^ ' first made him archdeacon of Salisbury, and after¬
wards, by his interest with the king, raised him to the
mitre. Alexander was consecrated at Canterbury,
July 22. 1123. Having received his education under
his uncle the bishop of Salisbury, and been accustomed
to a splendid way of living, he affected show and state
more than was suitable to his character, or consistent
with his fortunes. This failing excepted, he was a
man worthy of honour, and every wTay qualified for
his station. rIhe year after his consecration, his ca¬
thedral church at Lincoln having been accidentally
burnt down, he rebuilt it, and secured it against the
like accident for the future by a stone roof. This pre¬
late increased the number of prebends in his church,
and augmented its revenues with several manors and
estates. In imitation of the barons, and some of the
bishops, particularly his uncle the bishop of Salis¬
bury, he built three castles 5 one at Banbury, another
at Sleaford, and a third at Newark. He likewise
founded two monasteries 5 one at Haverholm, for re¬
gular canons and nuns together, the other at Tame
for white friars. He went twice to Rome in the years
1142 and 1144. The first time, he came back in qua¬
lity of the pope’s legate, for the calling a synod, in
which he published several wholesome and necessary
canons. In August H47» ^ie took a third journey to
the pope, who was then in France } where he fell sick
through the excessive heat of the weather, and return¬
ed with great difficulty to England, where he died, in
the 24th year of his prelacy.
Alexander, William, earl of Stirling, an eminent
Scots statesman and poet in the reigns of James VI.
and Charles I, who, after travelling with the duke of
Argyle as his tutor or companion, wrote a poetical
complaint of his unsuccessful love of some beauty, gli¬
der the title of Aurora. He then removed to the
court of James VI. where he applied to the more solid
parts of poetry, forming himself upon the plan of the
Crieek and Roman tragedians. In 1607, he published
some dramatic performances, entitled The Monarchic
Tragedies, dedicated to King James j who was so well
pleased with them, as to call him his philosophical
poet. After this, he is said to have written A Supple¬
ment to complete the third part of Sir Philip Sidney’s
Arcadia j and in 1613, he produced a poem called
Doomsday, or the Great Day of Judgment. He was
made gentleman usher to Prince Charles, and master
r nt6 re(lues^s > was knighted j and obtained a grant
of Nova Scotia, where he projected the settlement of a
colony, but afterwards sold it to the French. In 1626,
he was made secretary of state for Scotland ; was
created first viscount, and then earl, of Stirling; and
died in 1640.
XANDER whom St Irenseus reckons the
fifth bishop of Rome, succeeded St Evaristus in the year
109, and died in the year 119. There is no account
of his life ; and the epistles which are attributed to him
are supposititious.
Alexander II. king of Scotland, succeeded his fa¬
ther William in 1213, at 16 years of age. He made
an expedition into England, to oppose the tyranny of
King John ; who returned the visit, and was offered
battle by Alexander, but refused it. He took the ci¬
ty of Carlisle from Henry III. which was afterwards
1
ALE
exchanged for Berwick. Alexander died in 1249, in Alexander
the 51st year of his age, and 35th of bis reign $ and
left for his successor, his son*
Alexander III. who was crowned king of Scot¬
land in 1249. Cummings, a powerful family,
took arms against him ; and taking him prisoner, con¬
fined him at Stirling: but he was afterwards re¬
leased by his subjects. He married the daughter of
Henry III. king of England ; and was at length kill¬
ed by a fall from his horse, on the 10th of April 1290,
after having reigned 42, or according to others 37,
years. ‘
ALEXANDERS, in Botany. See Smyrnium.
ALEXANDRETTA, by the Turks called Scan-
deroon ; a town in Syria, at the extremity of the Me¬
diterranean sea. It is the port of Aleppo, from which
it is distant 28 or 30 leagues. It is now, properly
speaking, nothing else but a village, without walls, in
which the tombs are more numerous than the houses,
and which entirely owes its existence to the road which
it commands. This is the only road, in all Syria,
where vessels anchor on a solid bottom, without their
cables being liable to chafe : but in other respects it
has many inconveniences. It is infested, during win¬
ter, by a peculiar wind, called by the French sailors
le Raguier, which, rushing from the snowy summits of
the mountains, frequently forces ships to drag their an¬
chors several leagues : And when the snow begins to
cover the mountains which surround the gulf, tempes¬
tuous winds arise which prevent vessels from entering
for three or four months together. The road also to
Aleppo by the plain is infested by Curd robbers, who
conceal themselves in the neighbouring rocks, and fre¬
quently attack and plunder the strongest caravans. But
the worst circumstance is the extreme unwholesomeness
of the air, occasioned here by stagnant waters and me¬
phitic exhalations. It may be affirmed that this every
year carries ofl one-third of the crews of the vessels
which remain here during the summer $ nay, ships fre¬
quently lose all their men in two months. The season
for this epidemic disorder is principally from May to
the end of September : it is an intermitting fever of
the most malignant kind } and is accompanied with
obstructions of the liver, which terminate in dropsy.
To this baneful epidemic, Alexandretta, from its situa¬
tion, seems to be irremediably condemned : for the
plain on which the town is built is so low and flat,
that the rivulets, finding no declivity, can never reach
the sea. Whey they are swelled by the winter rains,
the sea, likewise swelled by tempests, hinders their dis¬
charging themselves into it: hence their waters, forced
to spread themselves, form lakes in the plain. On the
approach of the summer, the waters become corrupt¬
ed by the heat, exhale vapours equally corrupt, and
which cannot disperse, being confined by the moun¬
tains that encircle the gulf. The entrance of the bay
besides lies to the west, which in those countries is the
most unhealthy exposure when it corresponds with the
sea. The labour necessary to remedy this would be
immense, and after all insufficient: and, indeed, such
an undertaking would be absolutely impossible under a
government like that of the Turks. A few years ago,
Mr Volney informs us, the merchants of Aleppo, dis¬
gusted with the numerous inconveniencies of Alexan¬
dretta, wished to abandon that port and carry the trade
t©
ALE [592
Alexan- to Latakia. They proposed to the pacha of Tripoli
dretta, to repair the harbour at their own expence, provided
Alexandria. jie vvollld grant them an exemption from all duties for
ten yearSi To induce him to comply with their re¬
quest, the agent then employed talked much of the
advantage which would in time, result to the whole
country : “ But what signifies it to me what may hap¬
pen in time, replied the pacha ? I was yesterday at Ma-
rach ; to-morrow, perhaps, I shall be at Djedda : Why
should I deprive myself of present advantages, which
are certain, for future benefits I cannot hope to par¬
take ?” The European factors were obliged therefore
to remain at Scanderoon. There are three of these
factors, two for the French, and one for the English
and Venetians. The only curiosity which they have
to amuse strangers with consists in six or seven marble
monuments, sent from England, on which you read :
flere lies such a one, carried off in the flower of his
age, by the fatal effects of a contagious air. The sight
of these is the more distressing, as the languid air, yel¬
low complexion, livid eyes, and dropsical bellies of those
who show them, make it but too probable they cannot
long escape the same fate. It is true, they have some
resource in the village of Bailan, the pure air and ex¬
cellent water of which surprisingly restore the sick.
The aga, for some years past, has applied the duties
of the customhouse of Alexandretta to his own use, and
rendered himself almost independent of the pacha of
Aleppo. The Turkish empire is full of rich rebels,
who frequently die in peaceable possession of their usur¬
pations.
ALEXANDRIA, in Ancient Geography, a moun¬
tain of Mysia, on the sea coast, forming a part of
Mount Ida, where Paris gave judgment on the three
goddesses.
Alexandria, now Scanderia, by Athenseus call¬
ed Xgvirjj; a city of Lower Egypt, and for a long
time its capital. This city was built by Alexander the
Great, soon after the overthrow of Tyre, about 333
years before Christ. It is situated on the Mediterra¬
nean, twelve miles west of that mouth of the Nile an¬
ciently called Canopicum ; and lies in E. Long. 30. 9.
N. Lat. 31. 10.
Alexander is said to have been induced to build this
city, on account of its being conveniently situated for
a fine port ; and so sudden was his resolution, that af¬
ter he had directed where every public structure was
to be placed, fixed the number of temples, and the dei¬
ties to whom they should be dedicated, &c. there were
no instruments at hand proper for marking out the
walls, according to the custom of those times. Upon
this, a workman advised the king to collect what meal
was among the soldiers, and to sift it in lines upon the
ground, whereby the circuit of the walls would be
sufficiently marked out. This advice was followed ;
and the new method of marking out the walls was, by
Aristander, the king’s soothsayer, interpreted as a pre¬
sage of the city’s abounding with all the necessaries of
life. Nor was he deceived in his predictions $ for
Alexandria soon became the staple, not only for mer¬
chandise, but also for all the arts and sciences of the
Greeks.
Alexandria was a league and a half long, by one-
third in breadth, which made the circumference of
its walls about four leagues. Lake Mareotis bathed
3
]
ALE
its walls on the south, and the Mediterranean on the Alexandj
north. It was intersected lengthwise by straight pa- —y
rallel streets. This direction left a free passage to the
northern wind, which alone conveys coolness and sa¬
lubrity into Egypt. A street of 2000 feet wide began
at the gate of the sea, and terminated at the gate of
Canopus. It was decorated with magnificent houses,
temples, and public buildings. In this extensive range,
the eye was never tired with admiring the marble, the
porphyry and obelisks, which were destined at some fu¬
ture day to embellish Rome and Constantinople. This
street, the handsomest in the universe, was intersected
by another of the same breadth, which formed a square
at their junction of half a league in circumference.
From the middle of this great place, the two gates were
to be seen at once, and vessels arriving under full sail
from the north and from the south.
A mole of a mile in length stretched from the con¬
tinent to the isle of Pharos, and divided the great har¬
bour into two. That which is to the northward pre¬
served its name. A dike drawn from the island to the
rock whereon was built the Pharos, secured it from the
westerly winds. The other was called Eunostos, or the
Safe Return. The former is called at present the new,
the latter the old harbour : a bridge that joins the
mole to the city, served for a communication between
them. It was raised on lofty pillars sunk into the sea,
and left a free passage for ships. The palace, which
advanced beyond the promontory of Lochias, extended
as far as the dike, and occupied more than a quarter
of the city. Each of the Ptolemies added to its mag¬
nificence. It contained within its enclosure, the mu¬
seum, an asylum for learned men, groves, and buildings
worthy of royal majesty, and a temple where the body
of Alexander was deposited in a golden coffin. The
infamous Seleucus Cibyofactes violated this monument,
carried off the golden coffin, and put a glass one in its
place. In the great harbour was the little island of
Anti-Rbodes, where stood a theatre, and a royal place
of residence. Within the harbour of Eunostos w'as a
smaller one, called Kibotos, dug by the hand of man,
which communicated with Lake Mareotis by a canal.
Between this canal and the palace was the admirable
temple of Serapis, and that of Neptune near the great
place where the market was held. Alexandria extend¬
ed likewise along the southern banks of the lake. Its
eastern part presented to view the gymnasium, with its
porticoes of more than 600 feet long, supported by se¬
veral rows of marble pillars. Without the gate of Ca¬
nopus was a spacious circus for the chariot races. Be¬
yond that, the suburb of Nicopolis ran along the sea¬
shore, and seemed a second Alexandria. A superb am¬
phitheatre was built there with a race-ground, for the
celebration of the quinquennalia.
Such is the description left us of Alexandria by the
ancients, and above all by Strabo.
The architect employed by Alexander in this under¬
taking was the celebrated Dinocrates, who had acquired
so much reputation by rebuilding the temple of Diana
at Ephesus. The city was first rendered populous by
Ptolemy Soter, one of Alexander’s captains, who, after
the death of the Macedonian monarch, being appointed
governor of Egypt, soon assumed the title of king, and
took up his residence at Alexandria, about 304 years
before Christ.
In
T ale [ 593 1 ALE
} tandsk. ,.c pof ^tolemy Soter’s reign, he took the 700,000 volumes already mentioned.
his son Ptolemy Philadelphus partner with him in the
empire ; and by this prince the city of Alexandria was
much embellished. In the first year of his reign the
famous watch-tower of Pharos was finished. It had
been begun several years before by Ptolemy Soter j
and, when finished, was looked upon as one of the won¬
ders of the world. The same year, the island of Pharos
itself, originally seven furlongs distant from the conti¬
nent, was joined to it by a causeway. This wras the
work oi Dexiphanes, who completed it at the same time
that his son put the last hand to the tower. The tower
was a large square structure of white marble 5 on the
top of vvhich fires were kept constantly burning, for the
direction of sailors. The building cost 800 talents $
which, it Attic, amounted to 165,000!.; if Alexandrian,
to twice that sum.
The architect employed in this famous structure
fell upon the following contrivance to usurp the whole
glory to himself.—Being ordered to engrave ujion it
the following inscription :—“ King Ptolemy to the
Gods the Saviours for the benefit of Sailors j” instead
of the king’s name he substituted his own, and then
filling up the hollow of the marble with mortar, wrote
upon it the above-mentioned inscription. In process of
tune, the mortar being worn off, the following inscrip¬
tion appeared : “ Sostratus the Cnidian, the son of
Dexiphanes, to the Gods the Saviours, for the benefit
of Sailors.”
Ibis year also was remarkable for the bringing of
the image of Serapis from Pontus to Alexandria. It
was set up in one of the suburbs of the city called
llhacotis, where a temple was afterwards erected to his
honour, suitable to the greatness of that stately me¬
tropolis, and called, from the god worshipped there,
Serapeum. This structure, according to Ammianus
Marcellinus, surpassed in beauty and magnificence all
others in the world, except the capitol at Rome.—'
Within the verge of this temple was the famous Alex¬
andrian library. It was founded by Ptolemy Soter, for
the use of an academy he instituted in this city ; and,
by continual additions by his successors, became at last
the finest library in the world, containing no fewer
than 700,000 volumes. The method followed in col¬
lecting books for this library, was, to seize all those
which were brought into Egypt bv Greeks or other
foreigners. The books were transcribed in the museum
by persons appointed for that purpose j the copies were
then delivered to the proprietors, and the originals
laid up in the library. Ptolemy Euergetes, having bor¬
rowed from the Athenians the works of Sophocles, Eu¬
ripides, and .ZEschylus, returned them only the copies,
which he caused to be transcribed in as beautiful a man¬
ner as possible $ presenting the Athenians at the same
time with fifteen talents (upwards of 30,000!. sterling)
for the exchange.
As the museum was at first in that quarter of the
city called Bruc/iion, near the royal palace, the library
was placed there likewise j but when it came to con¬
tain 400,000 volumes, another library, within the
Serapeum, was erected by way of supplement to it,
and on that account called the daughter of the former.
In this second library 300,000 volumes, in process of
time, were deposited 5 and the two together contained
Vol. I. Part II. f
• 1 , t 1 • r* J "7   ^ie v'ai Alexandria.
cainecl on by Julius Csesar against the inhabitants of1 y-'—
t ns Clly» the library in the Bruchion, with the 400,000
volumes it contained, was reduced to ashes. The li¬
brary in the Serapeum, however, still remained 5 and
here Cleopatra deposited 200,000 volumes of the Perga-
mean library, which Mark Antony presented her with.
Ihese, and others added from time to time, rendered
the new library at Alexandria more numerous and con¬
siderable than the former; and though it was often
plundered daring the revolutions and troubles of the
Roman empire, yet it was again and again repaired,
and filled with the same number of books.
Eor 2cj3>yc3rs Alexandria was held in subjection by
the Ptolemies. Here is a list of these princes, with the
dates of their respective reigns.
1 tolemy the son of Eagus, surnamed Soter, reigned
39 years, and died in the year of the world 3720.
Ptolemy Philadelphus reigned 39 years, and died in
3758. Ptolemy Euergetes reigned 25 years, and died
37^3* Ptolemy Philopater reigned 17 years, and
died in 3800. Ptolemy Epiphanes reigned 24 years,
and died in 3824* Ptolemy Philometor reigned 37
years, and died in 3861. Ptolemy, Euergetes or Phys-
con, reigned 53 years, part with his brother Philome¬
tor, and part alone. He died in 3888. Ptolemy La-
thyrus reigned 36 years six months. He died in 3923.
Cleopatra, the daughter of Lathyrus and wife of Alex¬
ander I. reigned six months. Alexander I. the nephew
of Eathyrus, was established in 39^4’ ^md died in 3943.
Alexander II. the son of Alexander I. was dispossessed
by the Alexandrians in 3939. Ptolemy Nothus, or
Auletes, the son of Lathyrus, reigned 13 years, and
died in 3953* Ptolemy, surnamed Dionysius or Bac¬
chus, reigned three ye'ars eight months, and died in
3957* Cleopatra reigned from 3957, and killed her¬
self in 3974.
This city, as we have already observed, soon became
extremely populous, and was embellished both by its
own princes and the Romans ; but, like most other
noted cities of antiquity, hath been the seat of terrible
massacres. About 141 years before Christ, it was al¬
most totally depopulated by Ptolemy Physcon. That
barbarous monster, without the least provocation, gave
free liberty to his guards to plunder his metropolis and
murder the inhabitants at their pleasure. The cruel¬
ties practised on this occasion cannot be expressed ; and
the few who escaped were so terrified that they fled
into other countries. Upon this, Physcon, that he
might not reign over empty houses, invited thither
strangers from the neighbouring countries; by whom
the city was repeopled, and soon recovered its former
splendour. On this occasion, many learned men hav¬
ing been obliged to fly, proved the means of reviving
learning in Greece, Asia Minor, and the islands of the
Archipelago, and other places, where it was almost
totally lost.
The new inhabitants were not treated with much
more kindness by Physcon than the old ones had been;
for, on their complaining of his tyrannical behaviour,
he resolved on a general massacre of the young men.
Accordingly, when they were one day assembled in the
gymnasium, or place of their public exercises, he ox--
dered it to be set on fire ; so that they ail perish-
4 F
ALE [ 594 ] ALE
ed, either in the flames, or by the swords of his mer¬
cenaries, whom the tyrant had placed at all the ave¬
nues.
Though Julius Caesar was obliged to carry on a war
for some time against, this city, it seems not to have suf¬
fered much damage, except the burning of the library
already mentioned. Before Caesar left Alexandria, in
acknowledgment of the assistance he had received from
the Jews, he confirmed all their privileges there, and
even engraved his decree on a pillar of brass. This,
however, did not prevent the massacre of 50,000 of
them in this city about the year of Christ 67.
The city of Alexandria seems to have fallen into de¬
cay soon after this, and to have forfeited many of its an¬
cient privileges, though for what oflence is not known ;
but when Adrian visited Egypt, about the year 141, it
was almost totally ruined. He repaired both the pub¬
lic and private buildings, not only restoring the inhabi¬
tants to their ancient privileges, but heaping new fa¬
vours upon them •, for which they returned him their
solemn thanks, and conferred upon him what honours
they could while he was present j but as soon as he
was gone, they published the most virulent and bitter
lampoons against him.
The fickle and satirical humour of the Alexandrians
was highly disliked by Adrian, though he inflicted no
punishment upon them for it; but when they lampoon¬
ed Caracalla, he did not let them escape so easily.
That tyrant, in the year 215, when he visited their
city, having become the subject of their foolish satires,
ordered a general massacre, by his numerous troops,
who were dispersed all over the city. The inhuman
orders being given, all were murdered, without distinc¬
tion of age or sex ; so that in one night’s time the
whole city floated in blood, and every house was filled
with carcases. The monster who occasioned this had
retired during the night to the temple of Serapis, to
implore the protection of that deity j and, not yet sa¬
tiated with slaughter, commanded the massacre to be
continued all the next day j so that very few of the in¬
habitants remained. As if even this had not been suf¬
ficient, he stripped the city of all its ancient privile¬
ges •, suppressed the academy; ordered all strangers
who lived there to depart; and that the few who re¬
mained might not have the satisfaction of seeing one
another, he cut off all communication of one street
with another, by walls built for that purpose, and
guarded by troops left there.
Notwithstanding this terrible disaster, Alexandria
soon recovered its former splendour, as Caracalla was
murdered a short time after. It was long esteemed the
first city in the world, next to Rome ; and we may
judge of its magnificence, and the multitude of people
contained in it, from the account of Diodorus Siculus,
who relates, that in his time (44 years before Christ)
Alexandria had on its rolls 300,000 freemen. To¬
wards the middle of the sixth century, Amrou Ebn al
Acts, Omar s general, took it by storm, after a siege
of 14 months, and with the loss of 23,000 men. He-
raclius, then emperor of Constantinople, did not send
a single ship to its assistance. This prince affords an
example very rare in history; he had displayed some
vigour in the first year of his reign, and then suffered
himself to be lulled into idleness and effeminacy. A-
wakened suddenly from his lethargy by the noise of
the conquests of Cosroes, that scourge of the east, he Aiexandr
put himself at the head of his armies, distinguished v-—
himself as a great captain from his very first campaign,
laid waste Persia for seven years, and returned to his
capital covered with laurels: he then became a theo¬
logian on the throne, lost all his energy, and amused
himself the rest of his life with disputing upon Mono¬
theism, whilst the Arabs were robbing him of the finest
provinces of the empire. Deaf to the cries of the un¬
fortunate inhabitants of Alexandria, as he had been to
those of the people of Jerusalem, who defended them¬
selves for two years, he left them a sacrifice to the for¬
tunate ascendant of the indefatigable Amrou. All
their intrepid youth perished with their arms in their
hands.
The victor, astonished at his conquest, wrote to the
caliph, “ I have taken the city of the west. It is of an
immense extent. I cannot describe to you how many
wonders it contains. There are 4000 palaces, 4000
baths, 12,000 dealers in fresh oil, 12,000 gardeners,
40,000 Jews who pay tribute, 400 theatres or places of
amusement.”
At this time, according to the Arabian historians,
Alexandria consisted of three cities, viz. Menna, or the
port, which included Pharos, and the neighbouring
parts ; Alexandria, properly so called, where the mo¬
dern Scanderia now stands ; and Nekita, probably the
Necropolis of Josephus and Strabo.
At that time John, surnamed the Grammarian, a
famous Peripatetic philosopher, being in the city, and
in high favour with Amrou Ebn al Aas the Saracen
general, begged of him the royal library. Amrou re¬
plied that it was not in bis power to grant such a re¬
quest ; but that he would write to the caliph on that
head ; since, without knowing his pleasure, he dared
not to dispose of a single book. He accordingly wrote
to Omar, who was then caliph, acquainting him with
the request-of his friend: to which the ignorant tyrant
replied, That if those books contained the same doc¬
trine with the Koran, they could be of no use, since the
Koran contained all necessary truths ; but if they con¬
tained any thing contrary to that book, they ought not
to be suffered ; and therefore, whatever their contents
were, he ordered them to be destroyed. Pursuant to
this order, they were distributed among the public
baths ; where for the space of six months, they served
to supply the fires of those places, of which there was
an incredible number in Alexandria.
After the city was taken, Amrou thought proper
to pursue the Greeks who had fled farther up the coun¬
try ; and therefore marched out of Alexandria, leaving
but a very slender garrison in the place. The Greeks,
who bad before fled on board their ships, being appris¬
ed of this, returned on a sudden, surprised the town,
and put all the Arabs they found therein to the sword :
but Amrou, receiving advice of what had happened,
suddenly returned, and drove them out of it with great
slaughter: after which the Greeks were so intimidated,
that he bad nothing farther to fear from them.—A few
years after, however, Amrou being deprived of bis
government by the caliph Othman, the Egyptians were
so much displeased with his dismission that they inclined
to a revolt; and Constantine the Greek emperor, having
received intelligence of their disaffection, began to me¬
ditate the reduction of Alexandria. For this purpose,
A L E [ 595 ] ALE
xandm. lie sent one Manuel, an eunuch, and his general, with
' a powerful army, to retake that place; which, by the
assistance of the Greeks in the city, who kept a secret
correspondence with the imperial forces while at sea,
and joined them as soon as they had made a descent,
he eflected, without any considerable effusion of Chri-
tian blood. The caliph, now perceiving his mistake,
immediately restored Amrou to his former dignity.
This step wTas very agreeable to the natives $ who hav¬
ing had experience of the military skill and bravery of
this renowned general, and apprehending that they
should be called to an account by the Greeks for their
former perfidious conduct, had petitioned Othman to
send him again into Egypt.-—Upon Amrou’s arrival,
therefore, at Alexandria, the Copts or natives, with
the traitor Al-Mokawkas (who had formerly betrayed
to Amrou the fortress of Mesr) at their head, not only
joined him, but supplied him with all kinds of provi¬
sions, exciting him to attack the Greeks without delay.
This he did j and, after a most obstinate dispute which
lasted several days, drove them into the town, where,
for some time, they defended themselves with great
bravery, and repelled the utmost efforts of the besiegers.
This so exasperated Amrou, that he swore, “ If God
enabled him to conquer the Greeks, he would throw
down the walls of the city, and make it as easy of ac¬
cess as the house of a prostitute. Nor did he fail to
execute his threat j for having taken the town by storm,
he quite dismantled it, entirely demolishing the walls
and fortifications. The lives of the citizens, however,
were spared, at least as far as lay in thegeneral’s power j
but many of them were put to the sword by the sol¬
diers on their first entrance. In one quarter particu¬
larly, Amrou found them butchering the Alexandrians
with unrelenting barbarity; to which, however, by
his seasonable interposition, he put a stop, and on that
spot erected a mosque, which he called the mosque of
mercy.
From this time Alexandria never recovered its for¬
mer splendour. It continued under the dominion of the
caliphs, till the year 924, when it was taken by the Ma-
grebians, two years after its great church had been de»
stroyed by fire. This church was called by the Arabs
AlKaisaria, or Ccesarea ; and had formerly been a pa¬
gan temple, erected in honour of Saturn by the famous
Queen Cleopatra.
The city was soon after abandoned by the Magre-
bians j but in 928 they again made themselves masters
of it. Their fleet being afterwards defeated by that be¬
longing to the caliph, Abul Kasem the Magrebian ge¬
neral retired from Alexandria, leaving there only a gar¬
rison of 300 men ; of which Thmadl, the caliph’s ad¬
miral, being apprised, he in a few days appeared before
the town, and carried off the remainder of the inhabi¬
tants to an island in the Nile called Abukair. This
was done to prevent Abul KAsem from meeting with
any entertainment at Alexandria, in case he should think
proper to return. According to Eutychius, above
200,000 of the miserable inhabitants perished this year.
What contributed to raise Alexandria to such a pro¬
digious height of splendour as it enjoyed for a long time,
was its being the centre of commerce between the east¬
ern and western parts of the world. It was with the
view of becoming master of this lucrative trade, that
Alexander built this city, after having extirpated the
Tyrians who formerly engrossed all the East India traf- Alexandria,
fic. Of the immense riches which that trade afforded, ^
we may form an idea, from considering that the Ko-
mans accounted it a point of policy to oppress the Egyp¬
tians, especially the Alexandrians; and after the defeat
of Zenobia, there was a single merchant of Alexandria
who undertook to raise and pay an army out of the pro¬
fits of his trade. I he Greek emperors drew prodigious
tributes from Egypt, and yet the caliphs found their sub¬
jects in so good circumstances as to screw up their re¬
venues to three hundred millions of crowns.
Though the revolutions which happened in the go¬
vernment of Egypt, after it fell into the hands of the
Mahometans, frequently affected this city to a very
great degree ; yet still the excellence of its port, and
the innumerable conveniences resulting from the East
India trade, to whomsoever were masters of Egypt,
preserved Alexandria from total destruction, even when
in the hands of the most barbarous nations. Thus, in
the 13th century, when the barbarism introduced by
the Goths, &c. began to wear off from the European
nations, and they acquired a taste for the elegancies
of life, the old mart of Alexandria began to revive ;
and the port, though far from recovering its former
magnificence, grew once more famous by becoming the
centre of commerce: but having fallen under the do¬
minion of the Turks, and the passage round the Cape of
Good Hope being discovered by the Portuguese in 1499,
a fatal blow was given to the Alexandrian commerce,
and the city has since fallen into decay.
At present, the city of Alexandria is reckoned to
have about 14,000 or 15,000 inhabitants; a strange
colluvies of different nations, as well as from various
parts of the Turkish empire; but the most numerous
classes are Copts, Turks, and Jews. They are in
general given to thieving and cheating; and (like
their predecessors) seditious above all others, were
they not kept in awe by the severity of their govern¬
ment. The British and French carry on a consider¬
able commerce with them, and have each a consul
residing here. The subjects of those kingdoms which
keep no consul here, are subjected to a tax by the
Grand Signior : but the Jews have found out a me¬
thod of indemnifying themselves for this disadvan¬
tage ; namely, by selling their commodities cheaper
than other foreigners can afford. They are also fa¬
voured by the farmers of the revenue ; who know, that
if they do not pay some private regard to them, the
Jews have it in their power to cause fewer merchan¬
dises come into their port during the two years that
their farm lasts.
The present city is a kind of peninsula situated be¬
tween the two ports. That to the westward was called
by the ancients the Portus Eunostus, now the Old Port,
and is by far the best: Turkish vessels only are allowed
to anchor there : the other, called the New Port, is
for the Christians ; at the extremity of one of the arms
of which stood the famous Pharos. The New Port,
the only harbour for Europeans, is clogged up with
sand, insomuch that in stormy weather ships are liable
to bilge ; and the bottom being also rocky, the cables
soon chafe and part; so that one vessel driving against
a second, and that against a third, they are perhaps all
lost. Of this there was a fatal instance some years ago,
when 42 vessels were dashed to pieces on the mole
4 F 2 in
ALE
Alexandria, ill a gale of wind from the north-west, and numbers
v have been since lost there at different times. If it be
asked in Europe, why do they not repair the New
Port? the answer is, That in Turkey they destroy
every thing, and repair nothing. The old harbour will
be destroyed likewise, as the ballast of vessels has been
continually thrown into it for the last 200 years. The
spirit of the Turkish government is to ruin the labours
of past ages, and destroy the hopes of future times, be¬
cause the barbarity of ignorant despotism never considers
to-morrow.
In time of war, Alexandria is of no importance;
no fortification is to be seen ; even the Farillon, with
its lofty towers, cannot be defended. It has not four
cannon fit for service, nor a gunner who knows how
to point them. The 500 janizaries, who should form
the garrison, reduced to half that number, know no¬
thing but how to smoke a pipe. But Alexandria is a
place of which the conquest would be of no value. A
foreign power could not maintain itself there, as the
country is without water. This must be brought from
the Nile by the kalidj, or canal of 12 leagues, which
conveys it thither every year at the time of the inun¬
dation. It fills the vaults or reservoirs dug under the
ancient city, and this provision must serve till the next
year. It is evident, therefore, that were a foreign
power to take possession, the canal would be shut, and
all supplies of water cut off. It is this canal alone
which connects Alexandria with Egypt j for from its
situation without the Delta, and the nature of the soil,
it really belongs to the deserts of Africa. Its environs
are sandy, flat, and sterile, without trees and without
houses j where we meet with nothing but the plant
which yields the kali, and a row of palm trees which
follows the course of the kalidj or canal.
The city is governed like others in the same king¬
dom. (See Egypt.) It has a small garrison of sol¬
diers, part of which are Janizaries and Assafls $ who are
very haughty and insolent, not only to strangers, but to
the mercantile and industrious part of the people, though
ever so considerable and useful. The government is
so remiss in favour of these wretches, that Mr Norden
informs us, one of them did not hesitate to kill a far¬
mer of the customs, for refusing to take less of him than
the duty imposed, and went off unpunished ; it being a
common salvo among them, that what is done cannot
be undone.
The present condition of Alexandria is very despi¬
cable, being now so far ruined, that the rubbish in many
places overtops the houses. The famous tower of Pha¬
ros has long since been demolished, and a castle, called
Fanllon, built in its place. The causeway which join¬
ed the island to the continent is broken down, and its
place supplied by a strong bridge of several arches.
Some parts of the old walls of the city are yet stand-
*ng» and present us with a masterpiece of ancient ma¬
sonry. 1 bey are flanked with large towers, about 200
paces distant from each other, with small ones in the
middle. Below are magnificent casemates, which may
serve for galleries to walk in. In the lower part of the
towers is a large square hall, whose roof is supported
by thick columns of Thebaic stone. Above this are
several rooms, over which there are platforms more
than 20 paces square. The ancient reservoirs, vaulted
Z
[ 596 3
ALE
with so much art, which extend under the whole town, Akiandn
are almost entire at the end of 2000 years. > y
Of Caesar’s palace there remain only a few porphyry
pillars, and the front, which is almost entire, and looks
very beautiful. The palace of Cleopatra was built
upon the walls facing the port, having a gallery on the
outside, supported by several fine columns. Not far
from this palace are two obelisks, vulgarly called Cleo¬
patra’s Needles. They are of Thebaic stone, and co¬
vered with hieroglyphics. One is overturned, broken,
and lying under the sand j the other is on its pedestal.
These two obelisks, each of them of a single stone, are
about 60 feet high, by seven feet square at the base.
Denon, who went to Egypt along with the French ar¬
my in 1798, supposed that these columns decorated the
entrance of the palace of the Ptolemies, the ruins of
which still exist at no great distance from the place of
the obelisks. Towards the gate of Rosetta, are five
columns of marble on the place formerly occupied by
the porticoes of the gymnasium. The rest of the co¬
lonnade, the design of which was discoverable 100 years
ago by Maillet, has since been destroyed by the barba¬
rism of the Turks.
But what most engages the attention of travellers is
the pillar of Pompey, as it is commonly called, situa¬
ted at a quarter of a league from the southern gate.
It is composed of red granite. The capital is Corin¬
thian, with palm leaves, and not indented. It is nine
feet high. The shaft and the upper member of the
base are of one piece of 90 feet long, and nine in dia¬
meter. Ihe base is a square of about 15 feet on each
side. This block of marble, 60 feet in circumference,
rests on two layers of stone bound together with lead $
which, however, has not prevented the Arabs from
forcing out several of them, to search for an imaginary
treasure. The whole column is 114 feet high. It is
perfectly well polished, and only a little shivered on the
eastern side. Nothing can equal the majesty of this
monument; seen from a distance, it overtops the town,
and serves as a signal for vessels. Approaching it
nearer, it produces an astonishment mixed with awe.
One can never be tired with admiring the beauty of
the capital, the length of the shaft, nor the extraordi¬
nary simplicity of the pedestal. This last has been
somewhat damaged by the instruments of travellers,
who are curious to possess a relic of this antiquity $
and one of the volutes of the column was immaturely
brought down about twelve years ago, by a prank of
some English captains, which is thus related by Mr
Irwun.
These jolly sons of Neptune had been pushing about Voyage am
the can on board one of the ships in the harbour, until Rmte>
a strange freak entered into one of their brains. Thep‘ ^°'
eccentricity of the thought occasioned it immediately
to be adopted ; and its apparent impossibility was but
a spur for the putting it into execution. The boat
was ordered ; and with proper implements for the at¬
tempt, these enterprising heroes pushed ashore, to drink
a bowl of punch on the top of Pompey’s pillar! At
the spot they arrived j and many contrivances were
proposed to accomplish the desired point. But their
labour was in vain j and they began to despair of success,
when the genius who struck out the frolic happily sug¬
gested the means of performing it. A man was dis¬
patched
Tile
ALE
*
tian
L of
Sc tis.
*h
;xandriffi patched to the city for a paper kite. The inhabitants
were by this time apprized of what was going forward,
and flocked in crowds to be witnesses of the address
and boldness of the English. The governor of Alex¬
andria was told that these seamen were about to pull
down Pompey’s pillar. But whether he gave them
credit for their respect to the Roman warrior, or to
the Turkish government, he left them to themselves ;
and politely answered, that the English were too great
patriots to injure the remains of Pompey. He knew
little, however, of the disposition of the people who
were engaged in this undertaking. Had the Turkish
empire risen in opposition, it would not perhaps at that
moment have deterred them. The kite was brought,
and flown so directly over the pillar, that when it fell
on the other side, the string lodged upon the capital.
The chief obstacle was now overcome. A two-inch
rope was tied to one end of the string, and drawn over
the pillar by the end to which the kite was affixed.
By this rope one of the seamen ascended to the top ;
and in less than an hour a kind of shroud was con¬
structed, by which the whole company went up, and
drank their punch amid the shouts of the astonished
multitude. To the eye below, the capital of the pil¬
lar does not appear capable of holding more than one
man upon it j but our seamen found it could contain
no less than eight persons very conveniently. It is
astonishing that no accident befel these madcaps, in a
situation so elevated, that would have turned a land-
man giddy in his sober senses. The only detriment
which the pillar received, was the loss of the volute be¬
fore mentioned ; which came down with a thundering
sound, and was carried to England by one of the cap¬
tains, as a present to a lady who commissioned him for
a piece of the pillar. The discovery which they made
amply compensated for this mischief; as without their
evidence, the world would not have known at this hour
that there was originally a statue on this pillar, one
foot and ancle of which are still remaining. The statue
must have been of a gigantic size ; to have appeared of
a man’s proportion at so great a height.
> There are circumstances in this story which might
give it an air of fiction, were it not demonstrated be¬
yond all doubt. Besides the testimonies of many eye¬
witnesses, the adventurers themselves have left us a to¬
ken of the fact, by the initials of their names, which
are very legible in black paint just beneath the capital.
Learned men and travellers have made many fruit¬
less attempts to discover in honour of what prince it
was erected. The best informed have concluded, that
it could not be in honour of Pompey, since neither
Strabo nor Diodorus Siculus have spoken of it. The
Arabian Abulfeda, in his Description of Egypt, calls
it t/ie Pillar of Severus. And history informs us*, that
this emperor “ visited the city of Alexandria : That
he granted a senate to its inhabitants, who until that
time, under the subjection of a single Roman magi¬
strate, had lived without any national council, as under
the reign of the Ptolemies, when the will of the prince
was their only law : That he did not confine his be¬
nefactions there ; he changed several laws in their fa¬
vour.” This column, therefore, Mr Savary concludes
to have been erected by the inhabitants as a mark of
their gratitude to Severus. And in a Greek inscrip¬
tion, now half effaced, but visible on the west side when
t 597 ]
ALE
!7
the sun shines upon it, and which probably was legible Alexancki
in the time of Abulfeda, he supposes the name of Se- vr~-“
verus to have been preserved. He further observes,
that this was not the only monument erected to him by
the gratitude of the Alexandrians : for there is still
seen in the midst of the ruins of Antinoe, built by A-
drian, a magnificent pillar, the inscription on which is
still remaining, dedicated to Alexander Severus.
Denon, whom we have already quoted, seems to be
of a different opinion. “ We passed (says he) near Pom-
pey’s pillar. This monument is in the predicament of
almost every thing famous, which loses on a near scru¬
tiny. It was named Pompey’s pillar in the fifteenth
century, when learning began to recover itself from
the torpid state in which it had so long languished. At
that epoch, men of science, but not observers, bestow¬
ed names on all the monuments 5 and these names have
been handed down by tradition, and without being dis¬
puted, from century to century. A monument had
been raised to Pompey at Alexandria : it had disap¬
peared, and was thought to be recovered in this pillar
or column, which has since been converted into a tro¬
phy erected to the memory of Septimius Severus. It
is, however, placed on the rains of the ancient city j
and in the time of Septimius Severus, the city of the
Ptolemies was not in a ruinous state. To support this
column by a solid foundation, an obelisk has been sunk
in the earth, on which is placed a very clumsy pedestal,
having a fine shaft, and surmounted by a Corinthian
capital of bad workmanship.
“ If the shaft of this column, separating it from the
pedestal and the capital, once belonged to an ancient
edifice, it is an evidence of its magnificence, and of the
skill with which it was executed. It ought therefore
to be said, that what is called Pompey’s pillar, is a fine
column, and not a fine monument. It should be said,
that the column of St Maria Maggiore, notwithstand¬
ing it is one of the finest in existence, has not the cha¬
racter of a monument j that it is merely a fragment;
and that, if the columns of Trajan and Antoninus are
not in the same predicament, it is because they appear
as colossal cylinders, on which the history of the glo¬
rious expeditions of these two emperors is pompously
displayed, and which, if reduced to their simple form
and dimensions, would be nothing more than dull and ,
heavy monuments.
“ The earth about the foundation of Pompey’s pillar
having been cleared away by time, two fragments of
an obelisk of white marble, the only monument of that
substance which I have seen in Egypt, have been added
to the original base, to render it more solid.
“ Excavations made round the circumference of this
column, would, no doubt, afford some information re¬
lative to its origin. The shaking of the earth, and the
form it takes on treading on it, seem to attest that these
researches would not be fruitless. They would perhaps
discover the base and atrium of the portico to which
this column belonged, which has been the subject of
dissertations made by literati who have seen the draw¬
ings only, or whose information has been limited to the
descriptions of travellers. These travellers have ne¬
glected to apprize them, that fragments of columns of
the same substance and diameter are found in tbe vici¬
nity ; and that the shaking of the earth indicates the de¬
struction of great edifices buried beneath,, the forms of
which;
ALE
[ 598 ]
ALE
Alexandria, which may be distinguished on the surface, such as a
' * square of a considerable size, and a large circus, the
principal dimensions of which may be measured, not¬
withstanding it is covered with sand and ruins.
“ After having observed that the column, entitled
Pompa/s pillar, is very chaste both in style and execu¬
tion } that the pedestal and capital are not formed of
the same granite as the shaft j that their workmanship
is heavy, and appears to be merely a rough draught;
and that the foundations, made up of fragments, indi¬
cate a modern construction j it may be concluded, that
this monument is not antique, and that it may have
been erected either in the time of the Greek emperors,
or of the caliphs j since, if the capital and pedestal are
well enough wrought to belong to the former of these
periods, they are not so perfect, but that art may have
reached so far in the latter.” (JDenon's Travels.}
On the south-west side of the city, at a mile’s di¬
stance, are situated the catacombs, the ancient burial-
place of Alexandria 5 and although they cannot be
compared to those of the ancient Memphis, which the
Arabs will not permit to be visited, in order to make
the better market of their mummies, it is probable
that, the method of embalming being the same, the
form of these catacombs can only difi’er in their pro¬
portions. The Baron de Tott, in describing these,
observes, “ that Nature not having furnished this part
of Egypt with a ridge of rocks, like that which runs
parallel with the Nile above Delta, the ancient inha¬
bitants of Alexandria could only have an imitation by
digging into a bed of solid rock ; and thus they form¬
ed Necr'opolis, or “ City of the Dead.” The excava¬
tion is from 30 to 40 feet wide, and 200 long, and 25
deep, and is terminated by gentle declivities at each
end. The two sides, cut perpendicularly, contain se¬
veral openings, about 10 or 12 feet in width and height,
hollowed horizontally j and which form, by their dif¬
ferent branches, subterranean streets. One of these,
which curiosity has disencumbered from the ruins and
sands that render the entrance of others difficult or im¬
possible, contains no mummies, but only the places
they occupied. The order in which they were ranged
is still to be seen. Niches, 20 inches squai’e, sunk six
feet horizontally, narrowed at the bottom, and separat¬
ed from each other by partitions in the rock, seven or
eight inches thick, divided into checkers the two walls
of this subterranean vault. It is natural to suppose,
trom this disposition, that each mummy was introduced
with the feet foremost into the cell intended for its re¬
ception 5 and that new streets were opened, in propor¬
tion as these dead inhabitants of Necropolis increased.”
T-his observation, he adds, which throws a light on the
catacombs of Memphis, may perhaps likewise explain
the vast size and multitude, as well as the different
elevations, of the pyramids in the Higher and Lower
Egypt.
About 70 paces from Pompey’s pillar is the khalis
or the canal of the Nile, which was dug by the an¬
cient Egyptians, to convey the water of the Nile to
Alexandria, and fill the cisterns under the city. On
the side of the khalis are gardens full of orange and le¬
mon trees, and the fields are full of caper and palm
trees. On the top of a hill is a tower, on which a
sentinel is always placed, to give notice, by means of
a flag, of the ships that are coming into the port.
3
From this hill may be seen the sea, the whole extent AJexan
of the city, and the parts round it. y-
In going along the sea coast, there is a large bason
cut out of the rock that lines the shore. On the sides
of this bason, two beautiful saloons are hewn out by
the chisel, with benches that run across them. A ca¬
nal made zig-zag, for the purpose of stopping the sand
by its difl’erent windings, conveys into them the water
of the sea, as pure and transparent as crystal. Seated
on the stone-bench, the water rises a little above the
waist; while the feet softly repose on a fine sand.
The waves of the sea are heard roaring against the
rock, and foaming in the canal. The swell enters,
raises you up, and leaves you 5 and thus alternately
entering and retiring, brings a continual fresh supplv
of water, and a coolness which is truly delicious under
a burning sky. This place is vulgarly called the Bath
oj Cleopatra. Some ruins announce that it was former¬
ly ornamented.
In 1798 Alexandria was taken by the French under
the command of Bonaparte. It fell into the hands of
the British army in the year 1801 $ but by an article
in the treaty of peace, was restored to the Ottoman
Porte. It was taken possession of again by the Bri¬
tish in 1806, but abandoned soon after.
Alexandria is about 50 leagues north of Cairo.
E. Long. 31. 15. N. Lat. 31. 12.
Alexandria, a strong and considerable city of
Italy, belonging to the duchy of Milan, with a good
castle, built in 1178 in honour of Pope Alexander III.
This pope made it a bishopric, with several privileges
and exemptions. Prince Eugene of Savoy took this
city in 1706, after three days siege. The French
took it in 1745 $ but the king of Sardinia, to whom it
belongs by the treaty of Utrecht, retook it in 1746.
The fortifications of the town are trifling, but the cita¬
del is considerable. It is fifteen miles south-east of
Cassal, thirty-five north-by-west of Genoa, and forty
south-by-west of Milan. E. Long. 8. 40. N. Lat.
44. 53. The country about this town is called the
Alexandrin.
Alexandria, in Ancient Geography, a city of Ara-
chosia, called also AIcxandropolis, on the river Ara-
chotus (Stephanus, Isidorus Characenus).—Another
Alexandria in Gedrosia, built by Leonatus, by order
of Alexander (Pliny).—A third Alexandria in Aria,
situated at the lake Arias (Ptolemy) 5 but, according
to Pliny, built by Alexander on the river Arius.—
A fourth in Bactriana (Pliny).—A fifth Alexandria,
an inland town of Carmania (Pliny, Ptolemy, Ammi-
an).—A sixth Alexandria, or Alexandropolis, in Sog-
diana (Isidorus Characenus).—A seventh in India
at the confluence of the Acesines and Indus (Arrian).
—An eighth, called also Alexandretta, near the Sinus
Issicus, on the confines of Syria and Cilicia, now Scan-
deroon (see Alexandretta), the port town to Alep¬
po.—A ninth Alexandria of Margiana, which being
demolished by the barbarians, was rebuilt by Antio-
chus the son of Seleucus, and called Antiochia of Sy¬
ria (Pliny) ; watered by the river Margus, which is
divided into several channels, for the purpose of wa¬
tering the country which was called Zotale. The city
was seventy stadia in circuit, according to Pliny ; who
adds, that, after the defeat of Crassus, the captives
were conveyed to this place by Orodes, the king of
tha
ALE
iandria ^,e Parthians.—A tenth, of the Osiana, built on the
|j Oxus by Alexander, on the confines of Bactria (Pii-
xicacus. ny.)—An eleventh, built by Alexander at the foot of
Mount I aropamisus, which was called Caucasus (Pli¬
ny, Arrian.)—A twelfth Alexandria in Troas, called
also Troas and Antigonia (Pliny).—A thirteenth on
the laxartes, the boundary of Alexander’s victories to¬
wards Scythia, and the last that he built on that side.
ALEXANDRIAN, in a particular sense, is ap¬
plied to all those who professed or taught the sciences
jn the school of Alexandria. In this sense, Clemens
is denominated Alexandrinus, though born at Athens.
The same may be said of Apion, who was born at
Oasis; and Arostarchus, by birth a Samothracian. The
chief Alexandrian philosophers were, Amonius, Plo¬
tinus, Origen, Porphyry, Jamblicus, Sopater, Maxi¬
mus, and Dexippus.
Alexandrian is more particularly understood of a
college of priests, consecrated to the service of Alex¬
ander Severus after his deification. Lampridius re¬
lates, that, notwithstanding Severus was killed by
Maximin, the senate prosecuted his apotheosis ; and,
for regularity of worship, founded an order of priests,
or soda/es, under the denomination of Alexandrini.
Alexandrian Manuscript, a famous copy of the
bcriptures, consisting of four volumes, in a large quar¬
to size ; which contains the whole Bible in Greek, in¬
cluding the Old and New Testament, with the Apo-
crypha, and some smaller pieces, but not quite com¬
plete. This manuscript is now preserved in the British
Museum. It was sent as a present to King Charles I.
from Cyrillus Lucaris, patriarch of Constantinople, by
bir Thomas Rowe, ambassador from England to the
Grand Signior, about the year 1628. Cyrillos brought
it with him from Alexandria, where probably it was
written. In a schedule annexed to it, he gives this
account: I hat it was written, as tradition informed
them, by Thecla, a noble Egyptian lady, about 1300
years ago, not long after the council of Nice. But
this high antiquity, and the authority of the tradition
to which the patriarch refers, have been disputed ; nor
are the most accurate Biblical writers agreed about its
age. Grabe thinks that it might have been written
before the end of the fourth century ; others are of
opinion, that it was not written till near the end of the
fifth century, or somewhat later.
Alexandrian, or Alexandrine, in Poe try, a kind
of verse consisting of twelve, or of twelve and thirteen
syllables alternately ; so called from a poem on the life
of Alexander written in this kind of verse by some
French poet. Alexandrines are peculiar to modern
poetry, and seem well adapted to epic poems. They
are sometimes used by most nations of Europe ; but
chiefly by the French, whose tragedies are generally
composed of Alexandrines.
ALEXICACUS, something that preserves the body
from harm or mischief. The word amounts to much
the same as alexiterial.
Alexicacus, in antiquity, was an attribute of
Neptune, whom the tunny-fishers used to invoke under
this appellation, that their nets might be preserved
from the or sword-fish, which used to tear them;
and that he might prevent the assistance which it was
pretended the dolphins used to give the tunnies on this
occasion.
f 599 ]
A L F
Alfet.
ALEXIPHARMICS, in Medicine, are properly Alcxiphar-
remetlies for expelling or preventing the ill effects of inics
poison . but some of the moderns having imagined that
the animal spirits in acute distempers were affected by >
a. malignant poison, the term has been understood to
mean medicines adapted to expel tins poison by the
cutaneous pores, in the form of sweat. In this sense,
alexipharmics are the same as sudorifics.
ALEX IS? a Piedmontese. There is a book of
Secrets,which for a long time has gone under his
name. It w7as printed at Basil 1536, in 8vo, and
tianslateri from Italian into Latin by Wecher ; it has
also been translated into French, and printed several
times with additions. I here is a preface to the piece,
wherein Alexis informs us, that he was born of a noble
family ; that be had from his most early years applied
himself to study; that he had learned many languages;
that having an extreme curiosity to be acquainted with
the secrets of nature, he had collected as much as he
could during his travels for 57 years ; that he piqued
himself upon not communicating his secrets to any per¬
son ; but that when lie was 82 years of age, having
seen a poor man who had died of a sickness which
might have been cured had he communicated his secret
to the surgeon who took care of him, he was touched
with such a remorse of conscience, that lie lived almost
like a hermit: and it was in this solitude that he ar¬
ranged his secrets in such order as to make them fit to
be published. The hawkers generally carry them, with
other books, to the country fairs. These, however, con¬
tain only his select remedies, not his entire collection.
ALEXITERIAL, among physicians, a term of
much the same import with alexipharmic; though some¬
times used in a synonymous sense with amulet.
ALEYN, Charles, an English poet in the reign
of Charles I. In 1631, he published two poems, en¬
titled, “ The Battailes of Cressy and Poictiers, un¬
der the fortunes and valour of "King Edward of that
name, and his sonne Edward prince of Wales, named the
Pluck.” He succeeded his father as clerk of the ord¬
nance, and was commissary-general of the artillery to
the king at the battle of Edgehill. The next piece he
wrote was a poem in honour of Henry VII. and the
victory that gained him the crown of England. In
1639, the year before he died, he translated the history
of Eurialis and Lueretian, from the Latin epistles of
./Eneas Sylvius.
ALFANDIGA, the name of the customhouse at
Lisbon.
ALIAQUES, among the Moors, the name gene¬
rally used for their clergy, or those who teach the Ma¬
hometan religion ; in opposition to the Morabites, who
answer to monks among Christians.
ALFARABIUS, an eastern philosopher of the 10th
century. See Supplement.
ALI AT I, BN A, in Ancient Geography, the last
town of Campania, beyond Vesuvius (Diodorus) ; the
same with Nocera, which see. The inhabitants Alfa-
terni (Pliny).
ALFDOUCH, a name given by the Moors to a
sort of vermicelli, which they make of flour and water,
and are very fond of in their entertainments.
ALE ERG AN, or Alfragan, an Arabian astrono¬
mer. See Supplement.
ALFET, in our old customs, denotes a caldron
full
A L F [ 600 ] A L F
AJfet full of boiling water, wherein an accused person, by
II way of trial or. purgation, plunged his arm up to the
A~lil0^‘ , elbow.
ALFIERI, Victor, an Italian dramatic writer.
See Supplement.
ALFORD, a town of Lincolnshire, situated on a
small brook that runs through the town. A salt spring
was discovered here in 1670, from the pigeons which
flew thither in great numbers to drink the water ; those
birds being known to be fond of salt. It contains a
strong purging salt, together with a portion of sea salt.
It is recommended as cooling, cleansing, and attenuat¬
ing, as a good remedy in the scurvy, jaundice, and
other glandular obstructions. The town contained 1169
inhabitants in 1810. It is six miles from the sea. E.
Long. o. 15. N. Lat. 53. 30.
ALFRED, or Alfred, the Great, king of Eng¬
land, was the fifth and youngest son of yEthelwolf
king of the West Saxons, and was born at Wantage
in Berkshire in 849. He distinguished himself, du¬
ring the reign of his brother Ethelred, in several en¬
gagements against the Danes $ and upon his death suc¬
ceeded to the crown, in the year 871, and the 22d of
his age. At his ascending the throne, he found him¬
self involved in a dangerous war with the Danes, and
placed in such circumstances of distress as called for
the greatest valour, resolution, and all the other vir¬
tues with which he was adorned. The Danes had al¬
ready penetrated into the heart of his kingdom 5 and
before he had been a month upon the throne, he was
obliged to take the field against those formidable ene¬
mies. After many battles gained on both sides, he
was at length reduced to the greatest distress, and was
entirely abandoned by his subjects. In this situation,
Alfred, conceiving himself no longer a king, laid aside
all marks of royalty, and took shelter in the house of
one who kept his cattle. He retired afterwards to the
isle of iEthelingey in Somersetshire, where he built a
fort for the security of himself, his family, and the few
faithful servants who repaired thither to him. When
he had been about a year in this retreat, having been
inlormed that some of his subjects had routed a great
army of the Danes, killed their chief, and taken their
magical standard (a), he issued his letters, giving no¬
tice where he was, and inviting his nobility to come
and consult with him. Before they came to a final
determination, Alfred, putting on the habit of a harp¬
er, went into the enemy’s camp, where, without suspi- Alfred.
cion, he was everywhere admitted, and had the ho-’ 
nour to play before their princes. Having thereby
acquired an exact knowledge of their situation, he re¬
turned in great secrecy to his nobility, whom he order¬
ed to their respective homes, there to draw together
each man as great a force as he could j and upon a
day appointed there was to be a general rendezvous at
the great wood called Selwood, in Wiltshire. This af¬
fair was transacted so secretly and expeditiously, that,
in a little time, the king, at the head of an army, ap¬
proached the Danes, before they had the least intelli¬
gence of his design. Alfred, taking advantage of the
surprise and terror they were in, fell upon them, and
totally defeated them at ^.thendune, now Eddington.
Those who escaped fled to a neighbouring castle, where
they were soon besieged, and obliged to surrender at
discretion. Alfred granted them better terms than
they could expect. He agreed to give up the whole
kingdom of the East Angles to such as would embrace
the Christian religion, on condition they would oblige
the rest of their countrymen to quit the island, and, as
much as it was in their power, prevent the landing of
any more foreigners. For the performance thereof he
took hostages : and when in pursuance of the treaty,
Guthrum the Danish captain came, with 30 of his
chief officers, to be baptized, Alfred answered for him
at the font, and gave him the name of JEthelstanei and
certain laws were drawn up betwixt the king and Gu¬
thrum for the regulation and government of the Danes
settled in England. In 884, a fresh number of Danes
landed in Kent, and laid siege to Rochester, but the
king coming to the relief of that city, they were ob¬
liged to abandon their design. Alfred had now great
success ; which was chiefly owing to his fleet, an ad¬
vantage of his own creating. Having secured the sea-
coasts, he fortified the rest of the kingdom with castles
and walled towns j and he besieged and recovered from
the Danes the city of London, which he resolved to re¬
pair, and to keep as a frontier (b).
After some years respite, Alfred was again called
into the field : for a body of Danes, being worsted in
the west of France, came with a fleet of 250 sail on the
coast of Kent; and having landed, fixed themselves at
Appletree : shortly after, another fleet of 80 vessels
coming up the Thames, the men landed, and built a
fort at Middleton. Before Alfred marched against the
enemy,
(a) “ This (says Sir John Spelman) was a banner, with the image of a raven magically wrought by the three
sisters of Hinguar and Hubba, on purpose for their expedition, in revenge of their father Lodebroch’s murder,
made, they say, almost in a instant, being by them at once begun and finished in a noontide, and believed by the
Danes to have carried great fatality with it, for which it was highly esteemed by them. It is pretended, that, be¬
ing carried in battle, towards good success it would always seem to clap its wings, and make as if it would fly j
but towards the approach of mishap, it would hang down and not move.” {Life of Alfred, p. 61.)
(b) The Danes had possessed themselves of London in the time of his father, and had held it till now as a
convenient place for them to land at, and fortify themselves in ; neither was it taken from them but by a close
siege. However, when it came into the king’s hands, it was in a miserable condition, scarce habitable, and all
its fortifications^ ruined. The king, moved by the importance of the place, and the desire of strengthening
his frontier against the Danes, restored it to its ancient splendour. And observing, that through the confusion
of the times, many, both Saxons and Danes, lived in a loose disorderly manner, without owning any government,
he offered them now a comfortable establishment, if they would submit and become his subjects. This proposi¬
tion was better received than he expected ; for multitudes growing weary of a vagabond kind of life, joyfully ac¬
cepted such an offer. {Chron. Sax. p. 88.)
A L F [ 601 ] A L F
■„!. enemy, lie obliged tbe Danes, settled In Norlliumber- A. D. 900; and was buried at Winchester, in Hyde-
land and Essex, to give him hostages for their good abbey, under a monument of porphyry,
behaviour. He then moved towards the invaders, and All our historians agree in distinguishing him as one
pitched his camp between their armies, to prevent their of the most valiant, wisest, and best of kings that ever
junction. A great body, however, moved off to Es- reigned in England j and it is also generally allowed,
Alfred.
sex; and crossing the river, came to Farnham in Surry,
where they were defeated by the king’s forces. Mean
while, the Danes settled in Northumberland, in breach
of treaty, and notwithstanding the hostages given,
equipped two fleets 5 and, after plundering the northern
and southern coasts, sailed to Exeter, and besieged it.
The king, as soon as he received intelligence, marched
against them; but, before he reached Exeter, they had
got possession of it. He kept them, however, blocked
up on all sides ; and reduced them at last to such ex¬
tremities, that they were obliged to eat their horses,
and were even ready to devour each other. Being at
length rendered desperate, they made a general sally
on the besiegers ; but were defeated, though with great
loss on the king’s side. The remainder of this body of
Danes fled into Essex, to the fort they had built there,
and to their ships. Before Alfred had time to recruit
himself, another Danish leadex-, whose name was Laf,
came with a great army out of Northumberland, and
destroyed all before him, marching on to the city of
Werheal in the west, which is supposed to be Chester,
where they remained the rest of that year. The year
following they invaded North Wales 5 and after having
plundered and destroyed every thing, they divided, one
body returning to Northumberland, another into the
territories ol the East Angles j from whence they pro¬
ceeded to Essex, and took possession of a small island
called Meresig. Here they did not long remain j for
having separated, some sailed up the river Thames, and
others up the Lea road j where, drawing up their ships,
they built a fort not far from London, which proved a
great check upon the citizens, who went in a body and
attacked it, but were repulsed with great loss : at har¬
vest time the king himself was obliged to encamp with
a body of troops in the neighbourhood of the city, in
order to cover the reapers from the excursions of the
Danes. As he was one day riding by the side of the
river Lea, after some observations he began to think
that the Danish ships plight be laid quite dry; this he
attempted, and succeeded 5 so that the Danes deserted
their fort and ships, and marched away to the banks of
the Severn, where they built a fort, and wintered at a
place called Quatbrig (c). Such of the Danish ships as
could be got off, the Londoners carried into their own
road ; the rest they burnt and destroyed.
Alfred enjoyed a profound peace during the three
last years of his reign, which he chiefly employed in
establishing and regulating his government, for the secu¬
rity of himself and his successors, as well as the ease and
benefit of his subjects in general. After a troublesome
reign of 28 years, he died on the 28th of October
Vol. I. Part II. f
that he not only digested several particular laws still in
being, but that he laid the first foundation of our pre¬
sent happy constitution. There is great reason to be¬
lieve that we are indebted to this prince for trials by
juries 5 and the Doomsday book, which is preserved m
the exchequer, is thought to be no more than ano¬
ther edition of Alfred’s book of Winchester, which
contained a survey of the kingdom, It is said also, that
he was the first who divided the kingdom into shires.
Wiiat is ascribed to him is not a bare division of the
country, but the settling a new form of judicature ; for
after having divided his dominions into shires, he sub¬
divided each shire into three parts, called trythings.
There are some remains of this ancient divison in the
ridings of Yorkshire, the laths of Kent, and the three
parts of Lincolnshire. Each trything was divided in¬
to hundreds or wapentakes; and these again into ty-
things or dwellings of ten householders : each of these
householders stood engaged to the king, as a pledge for
the good behaviour of his family, and all the ten were
mutually pledges for each other ; so that if any one of
the tythings was suspected of an offence, if the head-bo¬
roughs or chiefs of the tythings would not be security
for him, he was imprisoned j and, if he made his escape,
the tything and hundred were fined to the king. Each
shire was under the government of an earl, under whom
was the reive, his deputy j since, from his office, called
shire-reive, or sheriff. And so effectual were these re¬
gulations, that it is said he caused bracelets of gold to
be hung up in the highways, as a challenge to robbers j
and they remained untouched.
In private life, Alfred was the most amiable man in
his dominions : of so equal a temper, that he never
suffered either sadness or unbecoming gaiety to enter
his mind } but appeared always of a calm yet cheerful
disposition, familiar to his friends, just even to his ene¬
mies, kind and tender to all. He was a remarkable
economist of his time j and Asserius has given us an ac¬
count of the method he took for dividing and keeping
an account of it: he caused six wax-candles to be made
each of 12 inches long, and of as many ounces weight j
on the candles the inches were regularly marked, and
having found that one of them burnt just four hours, he
committed them to the care of the keepers of his chapel,
who from time to time gave him notice how the hours
went: but as in windy weather the candles were wasted
by the impression of the air on the flame, to remedy this
inconvenience, he invented lanthorns, there being then
no glass in his dominions.
This prince, we are told, was 12 years of age be¬
fore a master could be procured in the western kingdom
4 G to
(c) The king’s contrivance is thought to have produced the meadow between Hertford and Bow ; for at
Hertford was the Danish fort, and from thence they made frequent excursions on the inhabitants of London.
Authors are not agreed as to the method the king pursued in laying dry the Danish ships : Dugdale sup¬
poses that he did it by straightening the channels j but Henry of Huntingdon alleges, that he cut several
canals, which exhausted its water.
A L F [
Alfred, to teach him the alphabet) such was the state of learn-
 v 1 ing when Alfred began to reign. He had felt the mi¬
sery of ignorance) and determined even to rival his co-
temporary Charlemagne in the encouragement ot lite¬
rature. He is supposed to have appointed persons to
read lectures at Oxford, and is thence considered as the
founder of that university. By other proper establish¬
ments, and by a general encouragement to men of abi¬
lities, he did every thing in his power to diffuse know¬
ledge throughout his dominions. Nor was this end
promoted more by his countenance and encouragement
than by his own example and his writings. I or not¬
withstanding the lateness of his initiation, he had ac-
quired extraordinary erudition ) and, had he not been
illustrious as a king, he would have been famous as an
author. His works are, i. Breviarium qmddam collec-
tum ex Legibus Trojan ovum, &c. lib. i. A Breviary col¬
lected out of the laws of the Trojans, Greeks, Britons,
Saxons, and Danes, in one book. Leland saw this book
in the Saxon tongue, at Christ-church in Hampshire.
2. Visi-Saxonum Leges, lib. i. The laws of the West-
Saxons, in one book. Pitts tells us, that it is in Ben-
net College library, at Cambridge. 3. Instituta qrne-
dam, lib. i. Certain Institutes, in one book. This is
mentioned by Pitts, and seems to be the second capi¬
tulation with Guthrum. 4. Contra Indices iniquos,
lib. i. An invective against Unjust Judges, in one
book. 5. Acta Magistratuum suorum, lib. i. Acts of
his Magistrates, in one book. This is supposed to be
the Book of Judgments mentioned by Horne) and was,
in all probability, a kind of Reports, intended for the
use of succeeding ages. 6. Begum fortunce variee, lib. 1.
The various Fortunes of Kings, in one book. 7. Dic¬
ta Sapientum, lib. i. The sayings of Wise Men, in one
book. 8. Parabolce et Sales, lib. i. Parables and plea¬
sant Sayings, in one book. 9. Collectiones Chromcorum,
Collection of Chronicles. 10. Episto/ce ad Widfsigium
Episcopum, lib. i. Epistles to Bishop Wulfsig, in one
book. 11. Manuale Meditationum. A Manual of Me¬
ditations.—Besides those original works, he translated
many authors from the Latin, &c. into the Saxon lan¬
guage, viz. I. Bede’s History of England. 2. Paulinus
Orosinus’s History of the Pagans. 3. St Gregory’s Pas¬
toral, &c. The first of these, with his prefaces to the
others, together with his laws, were printed at Cam¬
bridge, 1644. His laws are likewise inserted in Spel-
man’s Councils. 4. Boethius de Consolatione, lib. v.
Boetius’s Consolations of Philosophy, in five books.
Dr Plot tells us, King Alfred translated it at Wood-
stock, as he found in a MS. in the Cotton Library.
5. AEsopi Fabulce, ^Esop’s Fables: which he is said to
have translated from the Greek both into Latin and
Saxon. 6. lib.i. David’s Psalter,
in one book. This was the last work the king attempt¬
ed, death surprising him before he had finished it) it
was, however, completed by another hand, and pub¬
lished at London in 1640, in quarto, by Sir John Spel-
nian. Several others are mentioned by Malmsbury )
and the old history of Ely asserts, that he translated the
Old and New Testaments.
602 ] A L G
The life of this great king was first written by Asse-
rius Menevensis ) and first published by Archbishop
Parker, in the old Saxon character, at the end of his
edition of Hassingham’s history, printed in 1674,
ALGA, in Botamj, the trivial name of the lichen, fu-
cus, and several other plants of the cryptogamia class.
ALG/E, Flags ) one of the seven families or na¬
tural tribes into which the whole vegetable kingdom is
divided by Linnaeus, in his Pkilosophia Botanica. They
are defined to be plants, whose root, leaf, and stem, are
all one. Under this description are comprehended all
the sea-weeds, and some other aquatic plants. In the
sexual system, they constitute the 3d order of the 24th
class, Cryptogamia ; in Tournefort, the second genus of
the second section, Mariner, aut Fluviatiles, of the 17th
class, Aspermee vulgo habitce ; and the 57th order in
Linnaeus’s Fragments of a Natural Method. The
discoveries made in this part of the vegetable kingdom
are uncertain, and imperfect) and the attempts, in
particular, to arrange flags by the parts of the fructi¬
fication, have not been attended with great success.
Dillenius lias arranged this order of plants from their ge¬
neral habit and structure ) Michelius from the parts of
fructification.
ALGAGIOLA, a small sea-port town in the island
of Corsica, fortified with walls and bastions. It was
almost destroyed by the malecontents in 1731, but has
since been repaired. E. Long. 9. 45. N. Lat. 42. 20.
ALGAROTH, in Chemistry, is a white oxyde of
antimony, which is obtained by washing the butter or
oxymuriate with pure water. See Chemistry Index.
ALGAROTTI, Count, a celebrated Italian, was
born at Padua 5 but the year is not mentioned. Led
by curiosity, as well as a desire of improvement, he
travelled early into foreign countries 5 and was very
young when he arrived in France in Here he
composed his “ Newtonian Philosophy for the Ladies)”
as Fontenelle had done his Cartesian Astronomy, in
the work entitled “ The Plurality of Worlds.” He
was noticed by the king of Prussia, who gave him
marks of the esteem he had for him. He died at Pisa
the 23d of May, 1764) and ordered his own mauso¬
leum, with this inscription to be fixed upon it: “ Hie
jacet Algarottus, sed non omms.’1'' He is allowed to
have been a very great connoisseur in painting, sculp¬
ture, and architecture. He contributed much to the
reformation of the Italian opera. His works, which
are numerous, and upon a variety of subjects, abound
with vivacity, elegance, and wit: a collection of them
has lately been made, and printed at Leghorn in 1765,
in 4 vols. 8vo.
ALGARVA, a province in the kingdom of Portu¬
gal, 67 miles in length and 20 in breadth ) bounded
on the west and south by the sea, on the east by the
river Guadiana, and on the north by Alentejo. It is
very fertile in figs, almonds, dates, olives, and excellent
wines; and, besides, has a very abundant and lucrative
fishery. The capital town is Pharo. It contains four
cities, 12 towns, 67 parishes, and, it is said, above
96,000 inhabitants.
Alfred
n
Algarva
ALGEBRA.
4-
[ 6o3 ]
ALGEBRA.
INTRODUCTION.
iitoiy. I* A LGEBRA is a general method of reasoning,
-v-*-' concerning the relations which magnitudes of
every kind bear to each other in respect of quantity. It
is sometimes called universal arithmetic ; its first prin¬
ciples and operations being similar to these of common
arithmetic. The symbols which it employs to denote
magnitudes are, however, more general and more ex¬
tensive in their application than those employed in that
science 5 hence, and from the great facility with which
the various relations of magnitudes to one another may
be expressed, by means of a few signs or characters,
the application of algebra to the resolution of problems
is much more extensive than that of common arithme¬
tic.
2. There are various opinions as to the etymology of
the name algebra. It is pretty certain, however, that
the word is Arabic, and that from the Arabians the
name, as well as the art itself, is derived. Lucas de
Burgo, the first European author whose treatise on al¬
gebra was printed, calls it by the Arabic name Alghe-
bra e Almucabala, which is explained to denote the
art of restitution and comparison, or opposition and com¬
parison, or resolution and equation, all which agree well
enough with the nature of this art. Besides this ety¬
mology of the name algebra, several others have been
imagined j that, however, which we have just now
given seems to be the most probable of any hitherto as¬
signed.
3. The origin of algebra, as well as that of most
other branches of mathematical science, is involved in
obscurity j there are indeed traces of it to be found
in the works of some of the earliest philosophers and
mathematicians, the subject of whose writings must ne¬
cessarily have led them to the discovery, and, in some
measure, to the application of this science.
4. The oldest treatise of algebra, which has come
down to the present times, was written by Diophantus
of Alexandria, who flourished about the year 350 af¬
ter Christ, and who wrote 13 books on algebra or
arithmetic in the Greek language : though only six of
these have hitherto been printed, and one book, which
is imperfect, on multangular numbers. It was not,
however, from this author, but from the Moors or Ara¬
bians, that this, as well as most, other sciences, was re¬
ceived in Europe ; and some writers are of opinion, that
they again received it from the Greeks', while others
suppose that they had it from the Persians, and that
these last derived algebra, as well as the arithmetical
method of computing by ten characters or digits, from
the Indians.
5. The Arabians themselves say, that it was in¬
vented by Mahomet ben Musa or son of Moses, who
it seems flourished about the 8th or 9th century. It
seems more probable that Mahomet was not the inven¬
tor, but only a person well skilled in the art ; and that
the Arabians received their knowledge of it from
Liophantus, or other Greek writers, as they did that
of geometry and some other sciences, which they im- History,
proved and translated into their own language. —v-—
6. However this may be, it seems to be pretty cer¬
tain, that the science was first brought to Europe about
the beginning of the 15th century, by Leonardus Pi-
sanus, who travelled into Arabia and other eastern
countries for the purpose of acquiring mathematical
knowledge $ and, in a short time, it began to be culti¬
vated in Italy, where it was called VArte Magiore,
“ the greater art,” to distinguish it from common arith¬
metic, which was called l"1 Arte Minore, “ the lesser art.”
It was also known in that country by the name Regola
de la Cosa, or “ rule of the thing,” where by Cosa, or
the thing, was meant the first or simple power of the
unknown quantity.
7. Between the years 1470 and 1487, Lucas Pa-
ciolus, or Lucas de Burgo, a Cordelier, or Minorite
friar, published several treatises on arithmetic, algebra,
and geometry; and, in 1494, his principal work, en¬
titled Summa de Arithmetic a Proportioni et Froportiona-
lita was printed. The part of this work which relates
to algebra, and which he calls PArtc Magiore ; ditto dal
vulgo la Regola de la Cosa over Alghebra e Almucabala,
may be considered as exhibiting a pretty accurate state
of the science, as it was then known in Europe ; and
probably it was much the same in Africa and Asia,
from whence the Europeans derived the knowledge
of it. It appears from this work, that their knowledge
extended no farther than quadratic equations, oi which
they used only the positive roots; that they used only
one unknown quantity: that they used no marks nor
signs for either quantities or operations, excepting a
few abbreviations of the wTords or names themselves;
and that the art was only employed in the resolution
of certain numeral problems. So that either the Afri¬
cans had not carried algebra beyond quadratic equa¬
tions ; or else (what indeed is not improbable) the Eu¬
ropeans had not learned the whole of the art, as it was
then known to the former.
8. After the publication of the books of Lucas de
Burgo, algebra became more generally known and
improved, especially in Italy ; for about the year 1505*
Scipio Ferreus, who was then professor of mathematics
at Bononia, found out a rule for resolving one case of
a compound cubic equation ; but, as it appears to have
been the custom of the times with respect to such mat¬
ters, he kept the rule a profound secret from bis con¬
temporaries. The same thing was afterwards discovered
in 1535 by Nicolas Tartalea, who then resided in Ve¬
nice, and who had five years before found the resolution
of two other cases of cubic equations.
9. The next work upon algebra which was printed
after the books of Lucas de Burgo, was written by
Hieronymus Cardan, of Bononia, a very learned man,
who published in 1539 h*8 arithmetical writings, in
nine books, at Milan, where he practised physic, and
read public lectures on mathematics. The same au¬
thor in 1545 published a tenth book, containing the
whole doctrine of cubic equations, which had been in
part communicated to him under an oath of secrecy
4 G 2 by
604
ALGEBRA.
History, by Tartalea, but which, notwithstanding this circum-
“““v—-stance, Cardan thought proper to publish, alleging (not
altogether without reason) that he had made so many
additions to Tartalea’s discovery as to render it in a
manner his own. Accordingly we find, that even to
the present times, the common rule for resolving cubic
equations is generally known by the name of Cardan’s
rule, although it would certainly be more just to attri¬
bute it to its first inventor, Tartalea.
10. Equations of the fourth order appear to have
been first resolved by Lewis Ferrari, a disciple of Car¬
dan’s 5 and different methods of resolution were after¬
wards given by .Descartes and others. This indeed
is the greatest length that mathematicians have been
able to carry the resolution of equations ; for, with
respect to those of the fifth, and all higher degrees, all
attempts to resolve them, except in particular cases,
have hitherto been found impracticable.
11. After this period, writers on algebra became
more numerous j and many improvements were gra¬
dually made, both in the notation and in the theory of
the science. Among other writers who cultivated it
with success may be reckoned Bombelli, another Ita¬
lian mathematician j Stifelius and Scheubelius, both of
Germany *, Robert Recorde, an English mathemati¬
cian ; and many others.
12. Among the mathematicians to whom algebra is
particularly indebted, it is proper to mention Francis
Vieta, a native of France, who wrote about the year
1600. Among various improvements in all parts of
the science, he first introduced the general use of the
letters of the alphabet, to denote indefinite given quan¬
tities, which, before his time, had only been done in
some particular cases. The English mathematician,
Harriot, deserves also to be particularly mentioned.
His algebra, which was published after his death, in
1631, shews that he cultivated that science with great
success. For, besides improving the notation, so as to
render it nearly the same as it is at present, he first
explained clearly a most important proposition in the
theory of equations, namely, that an equation of any
degree may be considered as produced by the conti¬
nual multiplication of as many simple equations as there
are units in the exponent of the highest power of the
unknown quantity in that equation : Hence he shew¬
ed the relation which subsists between the coefficients of
the terms of an equation and its roots.
13. Without mentioning all the writers on algebra
who flourished about this time, and who severally con¬
tributed more or less to its improvement, we proceed
to observe, that nothing has contributed more to the
advancement of every branch of mathematical know¬
ledge than the happy application which the celebrated
philosopher Descartes made of algebra to the science
of geometry ; for his geometry, first published in 1637,
may be considered rather as the application of algebra
to geometry than as either algebra or geometry taken
by itself as a science. Besides this happy union ef¬
fected between the two sciences, Descartes contributed
much to the improvement of both 5 and indeed he
may be considered as having paved the way for all the
discoveries which have since been made in mathema¬
tics.
14. After the publication of Descartes’s Geometry,
the science of algebra may be considered as having at-
2
tained some degree of perfection. It has, however,
received many improvements from later writers, who,
pursuing the paths struck out by Harriot and Descar¬
tes, having produced many new and beautiful theories,
both in algebra and geometry. The writers upon al¬
gebra from this time became too numerous, and the
respective improvements made by each too minute, to
be particularly noticed in this introduction. It is,
however, necessary to mention another mathematician,
to whom algebra lies under considerable obligations,
namely, M. Fermat, who may be considered as the ri¬
val of Descartes 5 for it appears that he was in posses¬
sion of the method of applying algebra to the improve¬
ment of geometry before the publication of the cele¬
brated work of the latter philosopher. Besides, Fer¬
mat appears to have been deeply versed in the theory
of indeterminate problems j and he republished the old¬
est and most esteemed treatise upon that subject which
is known, namely, Diophantus’s Arithmetic, to which
he added many valuable notes of his own.
15. Having now given a brief account of the origin
of algebra, and of the writers who contributed the most
to bring it to the state of perfection it had attained
about the middle of the 16th century, which indeed
was considerable, we shall conclude this introduction,
by observing, that although its progress has since been
very gradual, it has been upon the whole considerably
improved ; particularly by the labours of these foreign
mathematicians, Schooten, Hudde, Van-Heuraet, Do
Witte, Slusius, Huygens, &c. As to the algebraical
writers of our own country, those whose labours have
been most conspicuous were Wallis, and more especially
Sir Isaac Newton, to whom, among other things, we
owe the invention of the binomial theorem: also Pell,
Barrow, Kersey, Halley, Rapbson, and many others.
We now proceed to explain the science itself.
Notation and Explanation of the Signs.
16. Ik arithmetic there are ten characters, which
being variously combined, according to certain rules,
serve to denote all magnitudes whatever. But this me¬
thod of expressing quantities, although of the greatest
utility in every branch of the mathematics (for we
must always have recourse to it in the different appli¬
cations of that science to practical purposes), is yet found
to be inadequate, taken by itself, to the more difficult
cases of mathematical investigation 5 and it is therefore
necessary, in many inquiries concerning the relations of
magnitude, to have recourse to that more general mode
of notation, and more extensive system of operations,
which constitute the science of algebra.
17. In algebra quantities of every kind may be de¬
noted by any characters whatever, but those commonly
used are the letters of the alphabet: And as in every
mathematical problem, there are certain magnitudes
given, in order to determine other magnitudes, which
are unknown, the first letters of the alphabet a, b, c, &c.
are used to denote known quantities, while those to be
found are represented by v, x, y, &e. the last letters of
the alphabet.
18. The sign -}- (plus') denotes that the quantity be¬
fore which it is placed is to be added to some other
quantity. Thus a-fA denotes the sum of a and &,■ 3+5
denotes the sum of 3 and c, or 8.
19. The
A L G E B
u 19. The sign — (minus') signifies that the quantity
j before which it is placed is to be subtracted. Thus
a—b denotes the excess of a above b ; 6—2 is the ex¬
cess of 6 above 2, or 4.
20. Quantities which have the sign -f- prefixed to
them are positive or affirmative ; and such as have
the sign — are called negative.
When quantities are considered abstractedly, the terms
positive and negative can only mean that such quantities
are to be added or subtracted j for as it is impossible to
conceive a number less than o, it follows, that a nega¬
tive quantity by itself is unintelligible. But, in consi¬
dering the affections of magnitude, it appears, that in
many cases, a certain opposition may exist in the nature
of quantities. Thus, a person’s property may be consi¬
dered as a positive quantity, and his debts as a negative
quantity. Again, any portion of a line drawn to the
right hand may be considered as positive, while a por¬
tion of the same line, continued in the opposite direc¬
tion, may be taken as negative.
When no sign is prefixed to a quantity, -f- is always
understood, or the quantity is to be considered as posi¬
tive.
21. Quantities which have the same sign, either -f-
or —, are said to have like signs. Thus, -f-o and -\-b
have like signs, but -j-a and —c have unlike signs.
22. A quantity which consists of one term, is said to
be simple ; but if it consists of several terms, connected
by the signs -f- or —, it is then said to be compound.
Thus -\-a and —c are simple quantities) and £ + c,
also 0 + 5—d, are compound quantities.
23. To denote the product arising from the multi¬
plication of quantities 5 if they be simple, they are
either joined together, as if intended to form a word,
or else the quantities are connected together, with the
sign X interposed between every two of them. Thus
ab, or ay,b, denotes the product of a and b; also
abc, or ay,by,c denotes the product of a, b, and c;
the latter method is used when the quantities to be mul¬
tiplied are numbers. If some of the quantities to be mul¬
tiplied be compound, each of them has a line drawn
over it called a vinculum, and the sign X is interposed
between as before. Thus ctX^+^X^—-J denotes that
a is to be considered as one quantity, the sum of c and
J as a second, and the difference between e andy’as a
third j and that these three quantities are to be multi¬
plied into one another. Instead of placing a line over
such compound quantities as enter a product, it is now
common among mathematical writers to enclose each
of them between two parentheses, so that the last pro¬
duct may be otherwise expressed thus, a(c-\-d)(e—^),
or thus, a X (c+d) X (f—J)’
24. A number prefixed to a letter is called a nume¬
ral coefficient, and denotes how often that quantity is to
be taken. Thus, 30 signifies that 0 is to be taken
three times. When no number is prefixed, the coeffi¬
cient is understood to be unity.
25. The quotient arising from the division of one
quantity by another is expressed by placing the dividend
I 2
above a line, and the divisor below it. Thus — de-
... 3
notes the quotient arising from the division of 12 by 3,
or 4 j - denotes the quotient arising from the division
R A. 605
This expression of a quotient is also called Addition,
of b by 0.
a fraction.
26. The equality of two quantities is expressed by
putting the sign nr between them. Thus a-\-b~c—d
denotes that the sum of 0 and b is equal to the excess of
c above d.
27. Simple quantities, or the terms of compound
quantities, are said to be like, which consist of the same
letter or letters. Thus -\-ab and —$ab are like quan¬
tities 5 but +05 and +o55 are unlike.
There are some other characters which will be ex¬
plained when we have occasion to use them $ and in
what follows we shall suppose that the operations of
common arithmetic are sufficiently understood 5 for al¬
gebra, being an extension of that Science, ought not to
be embarrassed by the demonstration of its elementary
rules.
Sect. I. Fundamental Operations.
28.
The primary operations in algebra are the same
as in common arithmetic, namely, addition, subtrac¬
tion, multiplication, and division 5 and from the vari¬
ous combinations of these four, all the others are de¬
rived.
Problem I. To Add Quantities.
29. In addition there may be three cases : the quan¬
tities to be added may be like, and have like signs ) or,
they may be like, and have unlike signs 5 or, lastly,
they may be unlike.
Case 1. To add quantities which are like, and have
like signs.
Rule. Add together the coefficients of the quantities,
prefix the common sign to the sum, and annex the
letter, or letters, common to each term.
Examples.
Add together
{
+ 70
+ 3«
+ a
—|— 2d
Add together
r— 2ax
J — ax
1— 500?
20»
Sum, +130
Sum, —200*'
Case 2. To add quantities which are like, but have un¬
like signs.
Ride. Add the positive coefficients into one sum, and
the negative ones into another j then subtract the
least of these sums from the greatest, prefix the sign
of the greatest to the remainder, and annex the com¬
mon letter, or letters, as before.
Add together
{i
Examples.
2ax
ax
3ax
yax
'+
Add together- ~
- +
6ab-\- 7
^ab-\- 9
05— 5
705—13
Sum of the pos. +110#
Sumoftheneg.— /\ax
Sum of the pos. +1405+16
Sum of the neg. — 4o5—18
Sum required, + 70# Sum required,
+ 1005— %
30+
6o6
Subtrac¬
tion.
ALGEBRA.
aa -j- lax-— xx
—2aa-f'3a,r““ 4XX
6aa—50a?-f-11 xx
—.4006
-j- aad
+ 3006
Sum, 50a o + 6xx Sum, o
Case 3. To add unlike quantities.
Rule. Put down the quantities, one after another, in
any order, with their signs and coefficients prefixed.
Examples.
—2ab
—Sc*
-|-6a£cis
Case 2. To multiply compound quantities.
Rule. Multiply every term of the multiplicand by all
the terms of the multiplier, one after another, by
the preceding rule, and collect their products into
one sum, which will be the product required.
2« axlay
3b bb—3&Z
—4C      
  Sum, ax-\-iay-\-bb—362s
Sum, 20+3^—-4c
Prob. II. To Subtract Quantities.
30. General Rule. Change the signs of the quantities
to be subtracted, or suppose them changed, and then
add them to the other quantities, agreeably to the
rules of addition.
Examples.
Examples.
Multiply 4a—lb-\-c lx-\-y
By 3a x—iy
Product liaa—6ab-\-3ac 2xx-\-xy
—ycy—iyy
2xx—3xy—2yy
aa—-abJf.bb a-—b-\-c
a-^-b a^.b—-c
From 5a—12b From 6a?— 8y-j-3
Subtract 2a-— 3b Subtract 2x-{- py—-2
Remainder 3a— 76 Remainder 4A?—I7y+5
Sxy—2+ 8a?— y aa—ax—yy
3xy—8— 8a?—33/ bb—by-\-%%
2A?y-f-6-|-i6A?-f-2y aa—ax—yy—bb-\-by—zz
31. The reason of the rule for subtraction may be
explained thus. Let it be required to subtract 2p—3q
from If we subtract 2p from m-\-n there will
remain m-\~n—2p ; but if we are to subtract 2p—37,
which is less than 2p, it is evident that the remainder
will be greater by a quantity equal to 37 ,• that is, the
remainder will be m-\-n—2p-\-3q 5 hence the reason
of the rule is evident.
Prob. III. To Multiply Quantities.
32. General Rule for the Signs. If the quantities to
be multiplied have like signs, the sign of the product
is -f- *, but if they have unlike signs, the sign of the
product is —.
33' fhe examples of multiplication may be refer¬
red to two cases; the first is when both the quantities
are simple ; and the second when one or both of them
are compound.
Case 1. To multiply simple quantities.
hule. Find the sign of the product by the general rule,
and annex to it the product of the numeral coeffi¬
cients ; then set down all the letters, one after ano¬
ther, as in one word.
Examples.
Multiply -f-a 4.^ _30iT
% +c —4° +‘]ab
Product +ac —ioab —iiaabx
3
aaa—aab-\-abb aa—ab -f- ac
-f- aab—abb-fbbb ~\-ab —bb-\-bc
' .. ..  ■■■■— —ac -\-bc—cc
aaa * *-\-bbb       -1   
aa * *—bb -f- ibc—cc.
34. The reason of the rules for the multiplication of
quantities may be explained in the following manner:
Let it be required to multiply a—b by c—d; because
multiplication is a repeated addition of the multipli¬
cand as often as the multiplier contains unity, there¬
fore, a—b is to be taken as often as there are units in
c—J, and the sum will be the product required. Now
if a—be taken as often as there are units in c, the
result will evidently exceed the product required, and
that by a quantity equal to a—b, taken as often as
there are units in cl. But, from the nature of addition
a—b taken as often as there are units in <?, is ca—cb,
and for the same reason, a—b taken as often as there
are units in d is da—db ; therefore, to obtain the pro¬
duct required, we must subtract da—db from ca—cb.
but from what has been shewn in subtraction, the re¬
mainder will be ca—cb~—da-\-db ; therefore the pro¬
duct arising from the multiplication of a—b by c—d is
ca—cb—da-\-db ; hence the reason of the general rule
for the signs as well as the other rules, is manifest.
35. When several quantities are multiplied together
so as to constitute a product, each of them is called a
factor of that product; thus «, b, and c are factors of
the product abc; also o-j-j?, and b—a?, are factors of the
product (a-J-A?)(^—x).
36. The products arising from the continual multi¬
plication of the same quantity are called powers at that
quantity, which is called the root. Thus an, aaa,
aaaa, &c. are powers of the root a. These powers
are commonly expressed, by placing above the root,
towards the right hand, a figure, denoting how often
the root is repeated. This figure serves to denomi¬
nate the power, and is called its index or exponent.
Thus, the quantity a being considered as the root, or
as the first power of a, we have aa or o* for its second
power,
>msion.
ALOE
power, aaa or a* for its third power, aaaa or a4 for its
fourth power, and so on.
37. The second and third powers of a quantity are
generally called its square and cube; and the fourth,
fifth, and sixth powers are sometimes respectively called
its biquadrate, sursolid, and cuboeube.
38. By considering the notation of powers, and the
rules for multiplication, it appears that powers of the
same root are multiplied by adding their exponents.
Thus ay.a^—a^, also xzy^x^—x1) and in general am
Xan=a”,+”.
Prob. IV. To Divide Quantities.
39. General Rule for the Signs.—If the signs of the
divisor and dividend be like, the sign of the quotient
is -{- i if they be unlike, the sign of the quotient
is —.
This rule is easily derived from the general rule for
the signs in multiplication, by considering that the
quotient must be such a quantity as when multiplied
by the divisor shall produce the dividend, with its pro¬
per sign.
40. The quotient arising from the division of one
quantity by another may be expressed by placing the
dividend above a line and the divisor below it, (§ 25.) ;
but it may also be often expressed in a more simple man¬
ner by the following rules :
Case. 1. When the divisor is simple, and a factor of
every term of the dividend.
Rule. Divide the coefficient of each term of the dividend
by the coefficient of the divisor, and expunge out of
each term the letter or letters in the divisor : the re¬
sult is the quotient.
Ex. I. Divide 12 abc by ^ac.
From the method of notation, the quotient may be
. , 12abc , , . ,
expressed thus, ■ gac,"' ? same quotient, by the
rule just given, is more simply expressed thus, 46.
E.v. 2. Divide 16a3xi/—28a*x%i + 4 a*xi by 4«*a\
The quotient is qay—72;*-{-a?*.
If the divisor and dividend be powers of the same
quantity, the division will evidently be performed by
subtracting the exponent of the divisor from that of the
dividend. Thus as, divided by a3, has for a quotient
a3—a1—a*.
BRA. 607
those of the divisor according to the powers of the Division,
same letter. s——y—_
2. The first term of the dividend is to be divided by
the first term of the divisor, observing the general
rule for the signs; and this quotient being set down
for a part of the quotient wanted, is to be multiplied
by the whole divisor, and the product subtracted from
the dividend. If nothing remain, the division is fi¬
nished j but if there be a remainder, it is to be taken
for a new dividend.
3. I he first term of the new dividend is next to be di¬
vided by the first term of the dividend, as before, and
the quotient joined to the part already found, with ♦
its proper sign. The whole divisor is also to be mul¬
tiplied by this part of the quotient, and the product
subtracted from the new dividend j and thus the ope¬
ration is to be carried on till there be no remain¬
der, or till it appear that there will always be a re¬
mainder.
To illustrate this rule, let it be required to divide
80*4. 2«6—156* by 2c-|-3^, the operation will stand
thus :
20-{-3^)80*+ 20 A—I5i*(4«—56
8o2 12ab
—xoab—156*
—lOab—15&*
Here the terms of the divisor and dividend are ar¬
ranged according to the powers of the quantity a. We
now divide 8aa, the first term of the dividend, by 2a
the first term of the divisor; and thus get 4a for the
first term of the quotient. We next multiply the di¬
visor by 4a, and subtract the product 80*4-1206 from
the dividend ; we thus get —.1006—I c6* for a new di¬
vidend.
By proceeding in all respects as before, we find —•56
for the second term of the quotient, and no remainder j
the operation is therefore finished, and the whole quo¬
tient is 40—56.
The following examples will also serve to illustrate
the manner of applying the rule.
Ex. 1.
30 — 6)30*—120*—a*6-f-ioa6—26*(a* 40+26
3a3 —0*6
Case. 2. When the divisor is simple, but not a factor of
the dividend.
Rule. The quotient is expressed by a fraction, of.which
the numerator is the dividend, and the denominator
the divisor.
-—i2o* +1006
— 120* + 406
+6o6—26*
+6o6—26*
Thus the quotient of 306*, divided by 2mbcri& the
fraction -a~.
2mdc
It will sometimes happen, that the quotient found
thus may be reduced to a more simple form, as shall be
explained when we come to treat of fractions.
Case 3. When the divisor is compound.
Rule. 1. The terms of the dividend are to be arranged
according to the powers of some one of its letters, and
Ex. 2.
0+6)0*+6* (o*—06 + 6*
oJ+o*6
—oa6+63
—o*6—06*
+o6*+68
+06* + 68
Ex. 3.
A L G E
608
'Fractions.
Ex. 3.
«5_63)a<S—^(a3-}-
a6—a3^3
-{-a3^3—h6
-j-a3£3—
Ex. 4.
(i+»+a;*+, &c.
1—a;
-J-jc
-\-x—x*
+«*—A’3
41. Sometimes, as in this last example, the quotient
will never terminate : in such a case it may either be
considered as an infinite series, the law according to
which the terms are formed being in general sufficient¬
ly obvious $ or the quotient may be completed as in
arithmetical division, by annexing to it a fraction, the
numerator of which is the remainder, and denominator
the divisor. Thus the quotient in last example may
x*
stand thus  .
1—x
42. The reason of the rule for division is sufficiently
manifest. For in the course of the operation, all the
terms of the quotient obtained by it are multiplied by
all the terms of the divisor, and the products succes¬
sively subtracted from the dividend, till nothing re¬
main ; that therefore must evidently be the true quo¬
tient.
Sect. II. Of Fractions*
43. In the operation of division, the divisor may be
sometimes less than the dividend, or may not be contain¬
ed in it an exact number of times j in either case the
quotient is expressed by means of a fraction. There can
be no difficulty, however, in estimating the magnitude
of such a quotient j if, for example, it were the frac¬
tion we may consider it as denoting either that some
unit is divided into 7 equal parts, and that 5 of these
are taken, or that 5 times the same unit is divided in¬
to seven equal parts, and one of them taken.
44. In any fraction the upper number, or the divi¬
dend, is called the numerator, and the lower number or
the divisor is called the denominator. Thus in the frac-
. a .
tmn a is the numerator, and b the denominator.
45. If the numerator be less than the denominator,
such a fraction is called a proper fraction ; but if the
numerator be either equal to, or greater than the de¬
nominator, it is called an improper fraction j and if a
quantity be made up of an integer and a fraction, it is
called a mixed quantity. Thusis a proper frac¬
tion ; also —are both improper fractions j and
x
is a mixed quantity.
BRA.
46. The reciprocal of a fraction is another fraction, Fractions
having its numerator and denominator respectively equal—y-w
to the denominator and numerator of the former.
b a
Thus — is the reciprocal of the fraction v.
a b
47. The following proposition is of great importance
in the operations relating to fractions.
If the numerator and denominator of a fraction be
either both multiplied, or both divided, by the same
quantity, the value of that fraction is the same as be¬
fore.
For let any fraction -zrc ; then because c is the quo¬
tient arising from the division of b by o, it follows that
b—ac; and multiplying both by any quantity «, we
have nbxznac: let these equals be both divided by the
same quantity na, and the quotients will be equal, that
• . . .
is -——c— - ; hence the truth 01 the proposition is ma«
na a r r
nifest.
48. From this proposition, it is obvious that a frac¬
tion may be very differently expressed, without chan¬
ging its value, and that any integer may be reduced to
the form of a fraction, by placing the product arising
from its multiplication by any assumed quantity as the
numerator, and the assumed quantity as the denomina¬
tor of the fraction. It also appears that a fraction very
complex in its form may often be reduced to another
of the same value, but more simple, by finding a quan¬
tity which will divide both the numerator and denomi¬
nator, without leaving a remainder. Such a common
measure, or common divisor, may be either simple or
compound ; if it be simple it is readily found by inspec¬
tion, but if it be compound, it may be found as in the
following problem.
49. Prob. I. To find the greatest common Measure of
two Quantities.
Rule. I. Range the quantities according to the power
of some one of the letters, as taught in division, leav¬
ing out the simple divisors of each quantity.
2. Divide that quantity which is of most dimensions by
the other one, and if there be a remainder, divide it
by its greatest simple divisor j and then divide the last
compound divisor by the resulting quantity, and if
any thing yet remain, divide it also by its greatest
simple divisor, and the last compound divisor by the
resulting quantity j proceed in this way till nothing
remain, and the last divisor shall be the common mea¬
sure required.
Note. It will sometimes he necessary to multiply the di¬
vidends by simple quantities in order to make the di¬
visions succeed.
Ex. 1. Required the greatest common measure of
the quantities —-x3 and o3—2aaA?-f-aj?1. The simple
divisor x being taken out of the former of these quan¬
tities, and a out of the latter, they are reduced to
«*—#*, and o*—2ax-\-x* and as the quantity a rises to
the same dimensions in both, we may take either of
them as the first divisor $ let us take that which con¬
sists of fewest terms, and the operation will stand thus:
o'-—
:clients.
A L G
a*—#*)a*—2ax-\-x*( i
a*—x%
—-lax-^-x* remainder,
which divided by —2x is a—a-)a*—x1 (a+x
a*—ax
-\-ax—xz
-\-ax—xx
* *
Hence it appears that a-—x is the greatest common
measure required.
Ex. 2. Required the greatest common measure of
—ioab*-\- lb*, and pa4£—()aib'i—^ab*.
It is evident, from inspection, that i is a simple di¬
visor of both quantities j it will therefore be a factor
of the common measure required. Let the simple di¬
visors be now left out of each quantity, and they are
reduced to 4a*—5064-6* and 30*—30*64-06*—6* j
but as the second of these is to be divided by the first,
it must be multiplied by 4 to make the division succeed,
and the operation will stand thus :
40*—5064-6*) 12a3—120*64-406*—463(30
I2a3—150*64-306*
+ 30*64-06* 4-463.
This remainder is to be divided by 6, and the new di¬
vidend multiplied by 3, to make the division again suc¬
ceed, and the work will stand thus :
30*4-06—46*) 120*—15064- 3 6* (4
12 o24- 406—1662
—19064-196*.
Phis remainder is to be divided by — 196, which be¬
ing done, and the last divisor taken as a dividend as
before, the rest of the operation will be as follows :
a—6)30*4- 06—46*(304-46
3a*—3a^
4-406—46*
4-406—46*
* *
from which it appears that the compound divisor sought
is a—6, and remarking that the quantities proposed
have also a simple divisor 6, the greatest common mea¬
sure which is required will be 6(0—6).
50. The reason of the rule given in this problem may
be deduced from the following considerations.
I. If two quantities have a compound divisor com-
nion to both, and they be either multiplied or divided
by any simple quantities, the results will each have the
same compound divisor. Thus the quantities, p(c—#)
and y(fl-—x) have the common divisor a—x, and the
quantities njp(a—x), r q{a—«) have each the very
*ame divisor.
2* In the operation of division, whatever quantity
measures both the divisor and dividend, the same will
also measure the remainder. For let x be such a quan¬
tity, then the divisor and dividend may be represented
Vox.. I. Part II, < f
E B R A.
by ax and bx; let q be the quotient, and the remainder
will evidently be bx—qax, which is evidently divisible
by #.
3. Whatever quantity measures both the divisor and
remainder, the same will also measure the dividend.
For let the divisor be ax, and the remainder rx, then,
q denoting the quotient, the dividend will be aqx-^rx,
which, as well as the divisor and dividend, is divisible
by x.
51. Let us apply these observations to tbe last ex¬
ample. From the first observation, the reason for
leaving out the simple quantities in the course of the
operation, as well as for multiplying by certain other
quantities, to make the divisions succeed, is obvious :
and from the second observation it sppears, that what¬
ever quantity measures 40*—5064-6*, and 1 2o3—\2a1b
4-406*—46^ the same must measure 30*64-06*—463,
the first remainder, as also —19064-1906*, the second
remainder; but the only compound divisor which this
last quantity can have is a—6, which is also found to
be a divisor of 30*4-06—46*, or of 30*64-06*—46s
the first remainder, therefore, by the third observation,
a—6 must also be a divisor of I2«*—15064-36% or of
4fl*-_5fl^4_^2j the first divisor, and therefore also it
must be a divisor of 12a3—i2a26-{-4o6*—46s the first
dividend, so that o—-6 is the greatest common measure,
as was required.
52. Pros. II. To Redt/ce a Fraction to itu lowest
Terms.
Rule. Divide both numerator and denominator by
their greatest common measure, which may be found
by prob. 1.
Ex. 1. Reduce
$6a*bc
2i\adc
- to its lowest terms.
It appears from inspection, that the greatest com¬
mon measure is 8ac, and dividing both numerator and
denominator by this quantity, we have — 21^.
' 3 2a[adcx 3<6?
Ex. 2. Reduce    —;   to its lowest terms.
a*—2u1x-±-axi
We have already found in the first example of prob. 1.
that the greatest common measure of the numerator and
denominator is a—x; and dividing both by this quan¬
tity we have
axx—a?j  ax-\-xx
a3—2a3x-^-ax2 a*—ax'
T n j 9rt4^—9«36* 4-a«*63;—lab*
In like manner we find -—r;—f2 
8«26*—10ab3 4- 26* “
9fl34-3o6* “
7-; the common measure being b(a—6 as
was shown in example 2. problem 1.
53. Prob. III. To Reduce a mixed Quantity to an
improper Fraction.
Rule. Multiply the integer by the denominator of the
fraction, ami to the product add the numerator, and
the denominator being placed under this sum will
give the improper fraction required.
4 H -* Ex. I,
609
fraction'.
ALGEBRA.
Ex. i. Let x + and *-
x
be reduced to
improper fractions.
x% at
a
a'—x* x2—a2 -f-s?1  2ft?5
ox(rt-j-x)=ra2x-f-a^* 1
(a*—x2)(a—x)=a3_a2x—ca.-*4-xS J new numerators. ^
' v'
x% ax-\-x* ,
i irst x-1 =  , the answer.
a a
And x
x
Ex. 2. Reduce a—x-\
a—at-J-
a-\-x
(rt-f-x) (a—
(c—x{a-\-x')—a'1—x2 the common denominator.
Hence—
a—x a1—x1 • a + x «2—«2
56. Pros. VI. To Add or Subtract Fractions.
to an improper fraction. Reduce the fractions to a common denominate^
, Ans.
a-\-x
a A~x
a-[-x
, Ans.
54. Prob. IV. To Reduce an improper Fraction to
a whole or mixed number.
Rule. Divide the numerator by the denominator for
the integral part, and place the remainder, if any,
over the denominator, and it will be the mixed
quantity required.
dX (i*
Ex. 1. Reduce — to a whole or mixed quantity.
a2 , • ,
—-—rra-J the answer required.
and add or subtract their numerators, and the sum
or difference placed over the common denominator,
is the sum or remainder required.
Ex. 1. Add together^, ~ and
a adf
b~~bdf
c bef
d bdf
e bde
f bdf
c ,e adfA-bcfA-bde
ax-\-2x* x1—y5
Ex. 2. Reduce : , also
a-f-x
mixed quantities.
ax4-2x2 , a2
First —V =x J —
y '
the answer.
to whole or
Hen“4+rf+/- idf
Ex. 2. From subtract
a
a-\-x a2 -f-2ox-f-Arl
x a2 A-aK
the sum required.
a
a-J-A?'
Hence^tV-
a-f-A; axA-ax
a  2oA;-f-A?*
a-\-x a24-ha; *
And
x*—y1
x—ij
—xA-y a whole quantity, which is the
answer.
Ex. 3. Add together 2, — and ^—~.
X 2 AT X ■ 1 3. 8 X —I 6 "p fax -p I 2 X-
3 +4+ ~~ ^
-60
55. Prob. V. To Reduce Fractions of different Deno¬
minators to others of the same value which shall have
a common Denominator.
13AT—22
J 2
If it be required to add or subtract mixed
quantities, they may either he reduced to the form of
tractions by prob. 3. and then added or subtracted, or
else these operations may he performed first on the inte-
Rule. Multiply each numerator separately into all the .. .
denominators except its own for the new numera- &er *luantities, and afterwards on the fractions,
tors, and all the denominators together for the com¬
mon denominator.
d c c
Ex. 1. Reduce - ant^y-to fractions of equal value
which have a common denominator.
a X dxf—adf T
cxb xj=cbf >New numerators.
eXbx dz=ebdj
bxdy. f—bdf Common denominator.
t, c j ^ ®df c cbf e cbd #
Hence we find - = ~ j-^-.and -.=: , where
b bdj d bdj f bdf
the new fractions have a common denominator, as was
required.
57. Prob. VII. To Multiply Fractions.
Ride. Multiply the numerators of the fractions for the
numerator of the product, and the denominators for
the denominator of the product.
Ex. 1. Multiply - by —
bdbd . .
- X -=— the product required.
a c ac a
Ex. 2. Multiply by -—^
c J d
aA-b a-
—^ X
•b ax—bl
the product.
Ex. 2. Reduce and 0
a—at o-Pat
value and having a common denominator.
to fractions of equal
d cd
If it be required to multiply an integer by a frac¬
tion, the integer may be considered as having unity
for a denominator. Thus (a-pAr) -p x
_ $adA-3(Jx
c
Mixed
algebra.
ictioas. Mixed quantities may be multiplied after being
6r i
reduced to the form of fractions by prob. 3. Thus Sect. HI. Of Involution and Evolution.
(h.\ V a + ciib-\.(ibx a b-\-b x r r
\ a/ x a x ax ~x ’ , ^r* ^rea^ing mult>plication, we have observed,
\hat when a quantity is multiplied by itself any num-
58. Ine reason ot the rule for multiplication may be ber °‘ times. the product is called a power of that
explained thus. If ^ is to be multiplied by c, the pro- powers are formed, is^aHed die (^g.^Thus1^
ct’ and a3 are the first, second, and third'powers of the
Involution
and
Evolution.
« • (l c
duct will evidently be — but if it is only to be mul¬
tiplied by -, the former product must be divided by
d, and it becomes which is the product required.
d £
Or let and-=«, then a~bm and c—dn and
Qc—bdmn; hence mn or ^ x — — —
b d bd
root a; and in like manner ~ _i.) and _L denote th
oa* a3
same powers of the root
a
62. But before considering more particularly what
relates to powers and roots, it will be proper to observe,
that the quantities L -L, -L &c. admit of being ex_
pressed under a different form ; for, like as the quanti¬
ties or, or*, or3, &c. are expressed as positive powers of
59. Prob. VIII. To Divide Fractions, the root or, so the quantities A} &Ci may be re_
v* LI LI
Mule. Multiply the denominator of the divisor by the sPectively expressed thus, or I, or-*, o~3} &c. and con-
numerator of the dividend for the numerator of the S3dered as negative powers of the root a.
quotient. Then multiply the numerator of the di¬
visor by the denominator of the dividend for the de¬
nominator of the quotient.
Or, multiply the dividend by the reciprocal of the di¬
visor, the product will be the quotient required.
Fx. I. Divide % by L
b J d
c\a(ad a d ad
InvTc the 9uotient required, 0r^x-=^- as be¬
fore.
Ex. 2. Divide by 3°'
ix J
63. This method of expressing the fractions
a a
A
^7> a® powers of the root o, but with negative indices,
is a consequence of the rule which has been given for
the division of powers j for we may consider — as the
a
quotient arising from the division of any power of « by
the next higher power, for example from the division
I
of the 2d by the 3d, and so we have -z= : but since
a ai
powers of the same quantity are divided by subtracting
the exponent of the divisor from that of the dividend
a*
a-
Cl *
(§ 4°-)» it follows, that ^T=:al-J=o-, j therefore the
. I
fraction - may also be expressed thus, a”1. By con-
u—.b’
3 n*\fl*-}-a^*/i73—ab* a*—b
^b)~^r \-6^r=-6^the iuot,e”1-
If either the divisor or dividend be an integer quan- r
tity, it may be represented as a fraction, by placing uni- sidering - as equal to it will appear in the same
ty for a denominator ; or if it be a mixed quantity, it a a
t0 a ^C‘T hy PT,b- 3' ?nd tl,’e °pe- manner ll,at »»<! proceeding in thi.
ration 01 division performed agreeably to the rule. a1 a* r °
1 «s _ 1 a*
60. The reason of the rule for division may be ex- Wa^’ we ^etu^~a^~a ’ a*~a^~a 4> ^CC" an^ 80
plained thus : let it be required to divide — by —. If on’ as ^ar as we P^ease‘ a^so appears, that unity or
d J b' I may be represented by a°, where the exponent is a
is to be divided by a, the quotient is -L but if it cypher, for 1= ^r=a*“*=:a0.
a ' ad J ax
is to be divided by ~, then the last quotient must be 64. The rules which have been given for the mul-
, tiplication and division of powers with positive expo-
multiplied by b; thus we have — for the quotient re- nents will apply in every case, whether the exponents
a he positive or negative \ and this must evidently take
quired. Or let and %—n, then axzbm and ldace; f°r t'16 mode of notation, by which we represent
^ “ fractional quantities as the powers of integers, but with
<?=</»; also adzzbdm and bi^zbdn; therefore — — neSative exponents, has been derived from those rules.
n be ^ 1 Thus ~ x«3 or a-”8 Xa3=o"“st J=o“I=r-, also-Lx
 v . a a «*
ad' 1
4H2
fn 2
iovuluiion.
ALGEBRA.
■or *~s X 3 zzx~5~ —^and -
X x+1zzx~i + i—x°=:l,
65. From this method of notation it appears, that
any quantity may be taken from the denominator of a
fraction, and placed in the numerator, by changing the
sign of its exponent; and hence it follows, that every
fraction may also be represented as an integer quanti-
ty. Thus t—, denotes the same thing as  r— or as
may be otherwise expressed
be*
n*
ali>-Ic—5, also   
(«—0*
thus, «*(«—1) J.
Of Involution.
66. Involution is the method of finding any power of
any assigned quantity, whether it be simple or com¬
pound ; hence its rules are easily derived from the ope¬
ration of multiplication.
Case I. When the quantity is simple.
Jlule. Multiply the exponents of the letters by the in¬
dex of the power required, and raise the coefficient
to the same power.
IJote. If the sign of the quantity be -f-» all its powers
will be positive ; but if it be —, then all its powers,
whose exponents are even numbers, are positive, and
all its powers whose exponents are odd numbers are
negative.
Ex. I. Required the cube, or third power of Za^x.
(Zrf9#) ?:r:2 X 2 X —So6#*, the answer.
Ex. 2. Required the fifth power of —
(,—3a2a*j,=:— 24^atoxtsf the answer.
%oxa
Ex. 3. Required the fourth power of 
(—\6a*x*
1 —n—) := o—ffi® answer.
\ 3% J 8iiV
Case. 2. When the quantity is compound.
Rule. The powers must be found by a continual multi¬
plication of the quantity by itself.
Ex. Required the first four powers of the binomial
quantity a-\-x.
o-j-x the root, or first power
a-\-x
a* -f- ax
-{-ax+x*
the square, or second power
—j—^
iJ3-f- 2a%x-\-ax'
-f- a*x-\-2ax*-\-x3 ,
f8+3rt*A? + 3flW*+A:3 ti>e cube, or third power
a+x -
a* -}- ^a3x 5«*a2 -j- ax3
-f- a3x 4- ^a1x%-\-2)ax3-\-x*
u*'^-/\a3x-\~6a>x*-\-/\ax3-\-x4 the fourth power.
If it he required to find the same powers of a—*, it Involuii
will be found, that
a—-x is the root or first power;
a*—2ax-\-x* the square, or 2d power ;
a3—33ff*1—x3 the cube, or 3d power;
«4—/\a3x + 6 a1x'i—^ax^-^-x4 the 4th power.
Hence it appears, that the powers of a-\-x differ from
the powers of a—x, only in this respect, that in the for¬
mer the signs of the terms are all positive, but in the
latter, they are positive and negative alternately.
67. Besides the method of finding the powers of a
compound quantity by multiplication, which we have
just now explained, there is another, more general, as
well as more expeditious, by which a quantity may be
raised to any power whatever without the trouble of
finding any of the inferior powers, namely, by means
of what is commonly called the binomial theorem.
This theorem may be expressed as follows. Let a-\-x
be a binomial quantity, which is to be raised to any
power denoted by the number n, then
-a'-'x 0(«—2)
■3x3
n(n-
1*2 ’I
•O (»—2) 0—3) -
i{n—1) {n-
2 *
-2) O-
3 ‘ 4
-3) 4)
*.z4 -f-
3Xs +, &c. Tin*
I • 2 * 3 * 4 * 5 _
series will always terminate when n is any whole posi¬
tive number, by reason of some one of the factors n—1,
n—2, &c. becoming o; but if n be either a nega¬
tive, or fractional number, the series will consist of an
infinite number of terms ; as, however, we mean to
treat in this section only of the powers of quantities
when their exponents are whole positive numbers, we
shall make no farther remarks upon any other; we shall
afterwards give a demonstration of the theorem, and
shew its application to fractional and negative powers
in treating of infinite series. The »th power of a—x will
not differ from the same power of a-f-x, but in the
signs of the terms which compose it, for it will stand
thus: (a—x)"—-a an~tx    an~ x —
v I 1 1 • 2
„(n—l)(n—2)^_ j x3 nCn—ifn 2)p—3)
I ' 2 3 ** * 2 • 3 ’4
—, &c. where the signs are -}- and — alternately.
Ex. I. Let it be required to raise o-j-.v to the fifth
power.
Here n the exponent of the power being 5, the first
term a” of the general theorem will be equal to as,
the second nan~zx— <;a4x. the third —— —a"~1x*sz
5X4,* *i,„ r *1.
fl3A?*=:iOfl3A;2, the fourth
1X2
a:3 —JOa*x3, the fifth
1X2X3
n(n—i)(n—2)(n—3) a_4.,4_5 X 4 X 3 X 2
n(-
aX4—*axt
1 X 2 X 3 x 4
■0 («—2) («—3) 0—4)
and the sixth and last
l - 2 • 3 • 4 • 5
a'^sxtzz ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ -2a°xi~xsi the remaining terms
1X2X3X4XJ 5
of
A L G
of the general theorem all vanish, by reason of the
factor n—5=0 by which each of them is multiplied,
so that we get (o-J-a?)s=ya4*;-f ioaJat3
Ex. 2. It is required to raise id to the third
3
power.
In this case ft—3, so that if we put a=ld and x=i-
3
we have the first term of the general theorem, or
an—%d*, the second ^an-Txzz^ X ^ X ~=:4d2z, the
third
ftfft—i")
   v * —
ar/ss*
a—‘x'=3X2dX — = , and the
12 9 3
r .1 j 1 . , n(n OCft 2) 23
fourth and last term —   -an~3x3=—. and
i • 2 • 3 27’
since the signs of the terms of any power of a—x are-f-
and — alternately, we have
2dzi s*
+
27
Sd* •—
68. If the quantity to he involved consists of more
than two terms, as if—r were to he raised to the
2d power, put pz=a and q—t'=zb, then (/> + y—r),zr
(a-f + lah + b%—p%4- ip^q—/•) 4- (7—r)2, but
2p {jq—r') — 2pq—2/jr, and hy the general theorem
{q—ry—q*—27^4-^*, therefore, we get (p-\-q—r)2
^p' + lpq—ipr+q*—Iqr-yr* ; and by a similar me¬
thod of procedure a quantity consisting of four or more
terms may be raised to any power.
Of Evolution.
69. Evolution is the reverse of involution, or it is
the method of rinding the root of any quantity, whether
simple or compound, which is considered as a power of
the root 5 hence it follows that its operations, generally
speaking, must be the reverse of those of involution.
70. To denote that the root of any quantity is to be
taken, the sign f (called the radical sign) is placed be¬
fore it, and a small number placed over the sign to ex-
2: —
press the denomination of the root. Thus yV/ denotes
y — 4 _
the square root of a, fa its cube root, fa its fourth
n  
root, and in general, fa its nlh root. The number
placed over the radical sign is called the index or expo¬
nent of the root, and is usually omitted in expressing
the square root, thus either fa or fa denotes the square
root of a.
71. Case 1. When roots of simple quantities are to be
found.
Rule. Divide the exponents of the letters by the index
of the root required, and prefix the root of the nu¬
meral coefficient; the result will be the root requi¬
red.
Note 1. The root of any positive quantity may be either
positive or negative, if the index of the root be an
E B R A. 6,3
even number; but if it be an odd number, the root Evolution.
can be positive only. ■ ^
2. The root of a negative quantity is also negative
when the index of the root is an odd number.
3. But if the quantity be negative, and the index of
the root even, then no root can be assigned.
Ex. 1. Required the square root of 36a2*4.
Here the index of the root is 2, and the root of the
coefficient 6, therefore ^36aix4~-}-6ax* or V36a2x4
=. for neither of these quantities, when multi¬
plied by itself, produces 36a2x4 ; so that the root re¬
quired is z±z6ax2, where the sign =±= denotes that the
quantity to which it is prefixed may be considered ei¬
ther as positive or negative.
Ex. 2. Required the cube root of I2$a6x9.
Here the index of the root is 3, and the root of the
coefficient 5, therefore 25afiA:9 — 5a2Ar3 the root re¬
quired ; and in like manner the cube root of —12 ca<sA;,’
is found to be —^a2x3.
72. If it be required to extract the square of—a2, it
will immediately appear that no root can be assigned ;
for it can neither be -j-a, nor —a, seeing that each of
these quantities, when squared, produces 4-°*> the root
required is therefore said to be impossible, and may be
expressed thus : f—a1.
I he root of a fraction is found by extracting that
root out of both numerator and denominator. Thus the
. 4a*a;4 . 2 x a*
square root of   is 
9^V 3 by3'
Case 2. When the quantity of which the root is to be
extracted is compound.
73. I. To extract the square root.
Range the terms of the quantity according to the
powers of the letters, as in division.
Find the square root of the first term for the first part
of the root sought, subtract its square from the given
quantity, and divide the remainder by double the part
already found, and the quotient is the second term of
the root.
Add the second part to double the first, and multi¬
ply their sum by the second part, subtract the product
from the remainder, and if nothing remain, the square
root is obtained. But if there is a remainder, it must
be divided by the double of the parts already found, and
the quotient will give the third term of the root, and,
so on.
Ex. 1. Required the square root of a*4-20*4-**.
o24-2a*4-»*(a4_A? the root required.
a*
2«4-aA 4-2o*4-*a
x*/4-20*4-**
* *■
Ex. 2>.
6i 4
ALGEBRA.
ICrolution^
*5
Ex. 2. Required the square root of #4—2**+“**
3 X 1 f ^ I
XK 2tfs—-xa \-~p( 4*—* 4- “
2 2 1 i6\ 1 4
X I
2 16*
2JC*  
X—A? 2*3-}- A?*
2a;3 4-”**
1 2
. I \ x* X ' I
2A:*—2a:-|— ) —>
'4/ 2 2 ' 16
I
X-
4
f. , _L
2 2 16
20=400
b— 40
2«-}-i=44o
}=a~l
=cj
Hence 243 is the
root required.
19049
17 600=(20-}-6) &
2o-J-25=48o
c= 3
2o-f.2^-{-c=483
1449
r 449= ( 2o -j- 26 -}-c)c
59049(243 the root required.
4
■Evoltuijta
44)190
176
74. To understand the reason of the rule for finding
the square root of a compound quantity, it is only ne¬
cessary to involve any quantity, as o-j-6-j-c to the se¬
cond power, and observe the composition of its square j
for we have (a -f- 6 -f-c)*=a* -f 2ab + 6* -}- 2ac -f- 2bc+c*;
hut 2ab-±-b*z=(2a-\-b)b and 20c-}-2&c-j-c*:r:(2o-}-2i
-j-c')c, therefore,
(a+b + cy=a* + ( 2^Z-}-^)^-}-( 2Ct—j—2^-}-c)c y
and from this expression the manner of deriving the rule
is obvious.
As an illustration of the common rule for extracting
the square root of any proposed number, we shall sup¬
pose that the root of 59049 is required.
Accordingly we have (fl-}-^-j-c),^ = 59049, and from
hence we are to find the values of a, b, and c.
59049(200=0
a' = 200 X 200= 40000 40
 3
The same example when wrought by the common
rule (see Arithmetic) will stand thus;
i33i2053(2oo=o
=aJ= 8000000 30=6
7=c
3o1=i 20000
306= 18000
6*= 900
483)*449
1449
and by a comparison of the two operations, the reason
of the common rule is obvious.
75. II. To extract the cube root.
Range the terms of the quantity according to the
powrers of some one of the letters.
Find the root of the first term, for the first part of
the root sought; subtract its cube from the whole quan¬
tity, and divide the remainder by 3 times the square of
the part already found, and the quotient is the second
part of the root.
Add together, 3 times the square of the part of the
root already found, 3 times the product of that part
and the second part of the root, and the square of the
second part: multiply the sum by the second part, and
subtract the product from the first remainder, and if
nothing remain, the root is obtained j but if there is
a remainder, it must be divided by 3 times the square
of the sum of the parts already found, and the quotient
is a third term of the root, and so on, till the whole
root is obtained.
Ex. Required the cube root of a3-f-3aatf-f-30JC*-|-A?3.
(il-\-Sax^~\'Saxi’\mx3i.a'\mX the root required.
o3
3 a*-}-3 GW-}-) 3 a 3 «#*-}-a'3
3 (i*x -j- 3 ax'1 -f-a;3
* *
76. The reason of the preceding rule is evident from
the composition of a cube, for if any quantity as a-}-
b+c be raised to the third power, we have a-|-6+c)*
=«3 4- ( 30* 4- 306 -J- £*) 6 -K3 (o+by 4- 3 (a4-6)c 4-c*)c,
and by considering in what manner the terms a, h, and
c are developed from this expression for the cube of
their sum, we also see the reason for the common rule
for extracting the cube root in numbers. Let it be re¬
quired to find the cube root of 13312053, where the
root will evidently consist of three figures ; let us sup¬
pose it to be represented by o-J-^-f-c, and the operation
for finding the numerical values of these quantities may
stand as follows.
3a* 4-3fl6-F6*=i3890o
3(a-}-i) 2 = 158700
3 (a 4-^)0= 4830
c2= 49
a(a+^)*+3(a+^)c+cl=l63579
5312053
237 the root required.
4i67000=(3a,4-3ff£4-£*)&
1 *45053
ii45053=[3(a+6)1+3(°+i)f+c*>
The
A L G E
(elation. The operation as performed by the common rule (see
— Arithmetic) will stand thus:
13312053(237 the root required.
8
12 . .
18 .
9
*389
1587. .
483 •
49
163579
53*2
4^7
II45°53
II45°53
bra.
for the third term of the root; and because it appears
that x2-\-2x—4, when raised to the third power, gives
a result the very same with the proposed power, we con¬
clude x7, -\-2x—4 to be the root sought.
78. In the preceding examples, the quantities whose
roots were to be found have been all such as could
have their roots expressed by a finite number of terms ;
but it will frequently happen that the root cannot be
otherwise assigned than by a series consisting of an in¬
finite number of terms : the preceding rules, however,
will serve to determine any number of terms of the
series. Thus the square root of will be found
77. III. To extract any other root.
Rule. Range the quantity of which the root is to be
found, according to the powers of its letters, and ex¬
tract the root of the first term, and that shall be the
first member of the root required.
Involve the first member of the root to a power less by
unity than the number that denominates the root re¬
quired, and multiply the power that arises by the
number itself; divide the second term of the given
quantity by the product, and the quotient shall give
the second member of the root required.
Find the remaining members of the root in the same
manner by considering those already found as making
one term.
Ex. Required the cube root of x64-6xs—-aox34~
96a’—64
x6 -{- 6xs—qox* -f-9 6#—64 (a* -{- ix—4
(#*)3—a:*
3xa)6xs
(**-J-2.r) -f-12a 4-j-8#3
3Ar4-f-, &c.)—12a?4
to be a-1  
2a
—— _i_ 0 J*8
8a3"*"iOw5 128a7
root of a3 -{-a;3 will stand thus, a-{-
ioo.-1
243a
&c. and the cube
a?3 x6 t^x9
3a2 9a5 81a8
- -f-, &c.; but as the extraction of roots in the
form of series can be more easily performed bv other me¬
thods, we shall refer the reader to sect. 19. which treats
of series, where this subject is again resumed.
Sect. IV. Of Surds*
79. It has been already observed (71.), that the root
of any proposed quantity is found by dividing the ex¬
ponent of the quantity by the index of the root; and
the rule has been illustrated by suitable examples, in
all which, however, the quotient expressing the expo¬
nent of the result is a whole number ; but there may
be cases in which the quotient is a fraction. Thus if
the cube root of a* were required, it might be expres¬
sed, agreeably to the method of notation already ex-r
3  2
plained, either thus v^V or thus
80. Quantities which have fractional exponents are
called surds, or imperfect powers, and are said to be
irrational, in opposition to others with integral expo¬
nents, which are called rational.
81. Surds may be denoted by means of the radical
sign, but it will be often more convenient to use the no¬
tation of fractional exponents; the following examples
will shew how they may be expressed either way.
^/a~aJ,
6rq
Surds.
V fyib'1 — 2b a'
tja^b2 — add*.
Vo2 -j-£a
(#* -J- 2#—f)9—x6 -j- 6x * —4OX3 -f- 96#—64
*
In this example, the cube root of x6, or x*, is the
first member of the root, and to find a second member
the first is raised to the power next lower, or to the se¬
cond power, and also multiplied by 3, the index of the
root required ; thus we get 3A;4 for a divisor, by which
the second term 6xs being divided, we find 2x for the
second member of the root. We must now consider
x*-\-2x as forming one term ; accordingly having sub¬
tracted its cube from the quantity, of which the root is
sought, we have —1 2.r4—, &c. for a new dividend ;
and having also raised x2-\-2x to the second power, and
multiplied the result by 3, we find 3»4-f-, &c. for a
divisor. As it is only the terms which contain the
highest powers of the dividend and divisor that we
have occasion for, the remaining terms are expressed
hy &c. Having divided —12a?4 by 3A;4, we find —4
2
=0>+4-r,b{u-by=(p-by,
J I
82. The operations concerning surds depend on the
following principle. If the numerator and denomina¬
tor of a fractional exponent be either both multiplied,
or both divided by the same quantity, the value of the
m cm m
power is the same. Thus a71 ~a‘n. For let = b,
then raising both to the power n, am—bn, and farther
raising both to the power c we get alm~bcn •, let the
cm n_
root cn be now taken, and we find acn —bz=.u.
83. Pros. I. To Reduce a rational Quantity to theform
of a Surd of any given denomination.
Rule. Reduce the exponent of the quantity to the form
of a fraction of the same denomination as the given
surd.
Ex. I>.
ALGEBRA.
616
Surdi. Ex. I. Reduce a® to the form of the cube root.
Here the exponent 2 must be reduced to the form
of a fraction having 3 for a denominator, which will
6 6  
be the fraction 4 j therefore cf—aJ — ^a3.
Ex. 2. Reduce 5 to the form of the cube root, and
to the form of the square root.
1 j   3 
First 5=5t= >/5 X 5 X 5= 25-
And 3a&azr32a2 ^=:(3*aiZ»4)7= V^a*b*.
84. Prob. II. To Reduce Surds of different denomi¬
nations to others of the same value, and of the same
denominations.
Rule. Reduce the fractional exponents to others of the
same value, and having the same common denomina¬
tor.
3   * 2
Ex. 1. Reduce y' a and \/ b*, or a* and to other
equivalent surds of the same denomination.
The exponents 4, -f> wh611 reduced to a common de¬
nominator, are 4 and ^ > therefore, the surds required
? 4 6   6  
are aE and £6, or \ia3 and f b*.
prob. 2. j and then reduce them to their simplest terms
by last problem. Then, if the surd part be the same y—
in them all, annex it to the sum, or difference of the
rational parts, with the sign of multiplication, and it
will give the sum, or difference required. But if the
surd part be not the same in all the quantities, they
can only be added or subtracted by placing the sign#
~}~ or — between them.
Ex. I. Required the sum of 27 and ^48.
By prob. 3. we find Vfrjzz:?, f 3 and ^48 = 4 x' 3,
therefore ^27-f-^48=13 ^3-{-4 ^3=7 V^.
3 - 3  
Ex. 2. Required the sum of 3 and 5
3— j_ 3 - 3 —. 3 — 3 —
3 tf -5-—I 2 and 5 y'-j-V — 5 V2>
3 _ 3 — 3 _ 3 - 3 _
therefore 3^ + 5 x/^—\ \/2-f | \/2=xf
Ex. 2. Required the difference between v/8oo4A?and
V20 a*x3.
V 8oo4^=(4* a* X 5*) 7 = 40* and V20a2xl=:
(2*«*a;* X 5*)^ — 2 ax \/~^x; therefore f 80 o4 »
f 20a*«3=(4a*—2ax) \Efx.
Ex. 2. Reduce 3^ and 2T to surds of the same de¬
nomination.
The new exponents are ^ and •£, therefore we have
3l=3^= VS7 = l/V, and 2^= 2^=
X -i
And in the same way the surds A”, B " are reduced
to these two \/An and y'Bm.
85. Prob. III. To Reduce Surds to their most simple
terms.
Rule. Reduce the surd into two factors, so that one
of them may be a complete power, having its expo¬
nent divisible by the index of the surd. Extract the
root of that power, and place it before the remain¬
ing quantities with the proper radical sign between
them.
Ex. I. Reduce ^48 to its most simple terms.
The number 48 may be resolved into the two fac¬
tors 16 and 3, of which the first is a complete square $
therefore V48=(4*-{-3^=: 4 X 3^=4 V3.
Ex. 2. Reduce y'pSo4^, and \/l/[a3x+^oa3x2, each
to its most simple terms.
First v/98o^=(72a4X2*)^=: 70* x (2^=70*
V 2X.
Also ^24 a3x + 40 a3x% =r (2*a3 vV —
2a/f$x -f- 5a;*.
86. Prob. IV. To Add and Subtract Surds.
Rule. If the surds are of different denominations, re¬
duce them to others of the same denomination, by
3
86. Prob. V. To Multiply and Divide Surds.
Rule. If they are surds of the same rational quantity,
add and subtract their exponents.
But if they are surds of different rational quantities, let
them be brought to others of the same denomination,
by prob. 2. Then, by multiplying or dividing these
rational quantities, their product, or quotient, may
be set under the common radical sign.
Note. If the surds have any rational coefficients, their
product or quotient must be prefixed.
3 _ $  
Ex. I. Required the product of y'«* and y'o*.
V a*X a* =oTX«T=oT+T=aTT=:V^ a Ans.
Ex. 2. Divide a*—b* by -Ja^b.
These surds when reduced to the same denomina¬
tion are (a*—and Hence
(a+6)3)F==V/(>-p6)(a—by.
Ex. 3. Required the product of 5 v^8 and 3 V5.
5 ^8x3 ^5=5_X 3X^8 X ^5=15 X ^40=15 X
v/4X 10=30^ 10.
. 3 — 3 _
Ex. 4. Divide 8 $6 by 4 ^/2.
L^-2^ = 2V28.
4 2 2
Kx. $.
P; jrllOIt.
u. . '
ALOE
JL t
Ex. 5. Required the product of xm and x" ; also the
T I_
quotient arising from the division of c™ by £
£ £ 1 £ m*n tnn
First Arm X A'" —xm n zzxmn zz \/xm>n.
And
yL \bn / V bm
88. Prob. VI. To Involve and Evolve Surds.
Surds are involved or evolved in the same manner
as any other quantities, namely, by multiplying or di¬
viding their exponents by the index of the power, or
I  
root required. Thus the square of 3 3 is 3 X 3
* 3  x m
X (3)T = 9'v/9. The «th power of is
I   .1 16 , ~
The cube root of - v/ 2 is - (2) ^=1 V “ and the «th
I I
root of xm is xmn
89. If a compound quantity involve one or more
surds, its powers may be found by multiplication. Thus
the square of 3-}->v/5 is found as follows:
3+V^ 5
3+\/ 5
9 + 3\/5
+ 3v/ J+5
. 9 + =: M + Sfluare re¬
quired.
90. The square root of a binomial, or residual surd
A -fB, or A—B, may be found thus. Take ^
—-JJ ;
then JZS+EziJ
2 ‘ 2
and VA=B=yS?_y^.
Thus the square root of 8 + 2^/7 is 1 -f^/y > and the
square root of 3—8 is -y/2—1. With respect to the
extraction of the cube or any higher root, no general
rule can be given.
Sect. V. Of Proportion,
9I« In comparing together any two quantities of the
same kind in respect of magnitude, we may consider
how much the one is greater than the other, or else
how many times the one contains either the whole, or
some part of the other j or, which is the same thing, we
may consider either what is the difference between the
quantities, or what is the quotient arising from the divi¬
sion of the one quantity by the other j the former of
these is called their arithmetical ratio, and the latter
Hhzxx geometrical ratio. These denominations, however,
have been assumed arbitrarily, and have little or no con¬
nexion with the relations they are intended to express,
I. Of Arithmetical Proportion.
92. When of four quantities the difference between
the first and second is equal to the difference between
the third and fourth, the quantities are called aritkme-
Vol. I. Part H. +
B R A. 61 j
t teal proportionals. Such, for example, are the num- Arithmeti-
bers 2, 3, 9, 12; and, in general, the quantities a, cal Pro par-.
b, b-\*d. If the two middle terms are equal, the XiCl1
quantities constitute what are called three arithmeticalv ^
proportionals.
93. The most material property of four arithmetical *
proportionals is the following : If four quantities be
arithmetically proportional, the sum of the extreme
terms is equal to the sum of the means. Let the quan¬
tities be o, c-j-flf, b, b-\-d, where d is the difference be¬
tween the first and second, and also between the third
and fourth, the sum of the extremes is a-\-b-\-d, and
that of the means a+d+b ; so that the truth of the
proportion is evident. Hence it follows, that if any
three quantities be arithmetically proportional, the sum
of the two extremes is double the mean.
94. If any three terms of four arithmetical propor¬
tionals be given, the fourth may be found from the
preceding proposition. Let a, b, c, be the first, second,
and fourth terms, and let x the third term be requir¬
ed j because a-j-erri-f.*; therefore A In
like manner any two of three arithmetical proportionals
being supposed given, the remaining term may be rea¬
dily found.
95. If a series of quantities be such, that the differ¬
ence between any two adjacent terms is always the same,
these terms form a continued arithmetical proportion.
Thus the numbers 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, &c. form a series in
continued arithmetical proportion, and, in general, such
a series may be represented thus :
a, c-J-r/, a-J-2r/, a-\-$d, a-j-40?, a-\-^d, a-\-6d, &c.
where a denotes the first term and d the common dif¬
ference.
By a little attention to this series, we readily disco¬
ver that it has the following properties :
1. The last term of the series is equal to the first term,
together with the common difference taken as often as
there are terms after the first. Thus, when the num¬
ber of terms is 7, the last term is a-\-6d; and so on.
Hence if 25 denote the last term, n the number of
terms, and a and d express the first term and common
difference, we have x=a-{-(n—l)tf.
2. The sum of the first and last term is equal to the
sum of any two terms at the same distance from them.
Thus suppose the number of terms to be 7, then the
last term is a-\-6d, and the sum of the first and last,
2a-j-6fl?,’ but the same is also the sum of the second
and last but one, of the third and last but two, and so
on till we come to the middle term, which, because it
is equally distant from the extremes must be added to
itself.
96. From this last mentioned property we derive a
rule for finding the sum of all the terms of the series.
For if the sum of the first and last be taken, as also the
sum of the second and last but one, of the third and
last but two, and so on along the series till we come to
the sum of the last and first terms, it is evident that we
shall have as many sums as there are terms, and each
equal to the sum of the first and last terms j but the
aggregate of those sums is equal to all the terms of the
series taken twice, therefore the sum of the first and
last term, taken as often as there are, terms, is equal to
twice the sum of all the terms, so that if s denote that
71
sura, we have 2$=^ and szz - (a-f-z).
jL
4 I Hence
618
A L G
(leometit- Hence the sum of ihi* odd numbers 1,3, 5, 7, 9, &c.
t.tl Proper- continued to n terms, is equal to the square of the num-
tion. ])er 0f terms. For in this case a— 1, d—2, r?—1 -j-
(ji—i')d—2n—r, therefore X 2n—nx.
II. Of Geometrical Proportion,
97. When of four quantities, the quotient arising
from the division of the first by the second is equal to
that arising from the division of the third by the fourth,
these quantities are said to be in geometrical proportion,
or are called simply proportionals. Thus 12, 4, 15, 5,
are four numbers in geometrical proportion 5 and, in
general, na, a, nb, b may express any four proportion¬
als, for -——n, and also —~n.
a b
98. To denote that any four quantities a, b, c, d, are
proportional, it is common to place them thus, a : b : :
c : d, or thus a : b=c : cl, which notation, when expres¬
sed in words, is read thus, a is to & as c to d, or the ra¬
tio of a to b is equal to the ratio of c to d.
The first and third terms of a proportion are called
the antecedents, and the second and fourth the conse¬
quents,
99. When the two middle terms of a proportion are
the same, the remaining terms, and that quantity, con¬
stitute three geometrical proportionals j such are 4, 6,
d
9, and in general na, a, In this case the middle
n
quantity is called a mean proportional between the
> other two.
100. The principal properties of four proportionals
are the following :
1. If four quantities he proportionals, the product
of the extremes is equal to the product of the means.
Let a, b, c, d, be four quantities, such, that a\ b : : c: d;
then from the nature of proportionals y : let these
b d
equal quotients be multiplied by bd, and we have
aid cbd ,
ov adzzbe. Hence it follows, that when
three quantities are proportional, the product of the ex¬
tremes is equal to the square of the middle term. It also
appears, that if any three of four proportionals be given,
the remaining one may be found. Thus let a, b, c, the
three first be given, and let it be required to find x the
fourth term ; because a : b c \ X, ax—be, and dividing
. be ^ .
by a, x—-—. This conclusion may be considered as a
demonstration of what is called the rule of three in
arithmetic.
2. If four quantities be such that the product of two
of them is equal to the product of the other two, these
quantities are proportionals.
Let a, b, c, d, be the quantities, which are such
that adrzzcb, it these equals be divided by bd, we get
ad
bd
be a
Tdorb
hence it follows, from the definition
E B R A.
given of proportionals (§97.), that a : b : : c : d. From Gecra*tt,
this property of proportionals it appears, that if three cal Pro^
quantities be such that the square of one of them be bo».
equal to the product of the other two, these quantities
are three proportionals.
xoi. It four quantities are proportional, that is, if
a : b :: c : d, then will each of the following combina¬
tions or arrangements of the quantities be also four pro¬
portionals.
1st, By inversion b : a :: d : c
2d, By alternation a : c : : b : d*
3d, By composition a-\-b : a :: c-\-d : c
or a-\-b : b :: c-j-cf: d
4th, By division a—b : a:: c—d : c
or a—b : b :: c—d : d
5th, By mixing a-^-b : a—b :: c-f-r/ : c—d
6th, By taking any equimultiples of the antecedents,
and also any equimultiples of the consequents
na : pb : : nc : pd
7th, Or by taking any parts of the antecedents and
abed
consequents -
n p n p
That the preceding combinations of the quantities
a, b, c, d are proportionals, may be readily proved, by
taking the products of the extremes and means j for
from each of them we derive this conclusion, that ad~
be, which is known to be true, from the original as¬
sumption of the quantities.
102. If four quantities be proportional, and also
other four, the product of the corresponding terms will
be proportional.
Let a : b :: c : d,
and e : f : :g : h.
Then ae : bf: •. eg', dh.
For ad~be, and eh—fg (§ 100.), therefore, multiply¬
ing together these equal quantities adeh— befg, or oeX
dh—bf'X.cg, therefore by the second property (§ 100.),
ae : bf eg : ah.
103. Hence it follows, that if there be any number
of proportions whatever, the products of the correspond¬
ing terms will still be proportional.
104. If a series of quantities be so related to each
other, that the quotient arising from the division of any
term by that which follows it is always the same quan¬
tity, these quantities are said to be in continued geome¬
trical proportion, such are the numbers 2, 4, 8, 16, 32,
&.c. also 4-? yV &c. and in general a series of
such quantities may be represented thus, a, ar, ai*, ar%,
ar*, ai'5, &c. Here a is the first term, and r the quo¬
tient of any two adjoining terms, which is also called
the common ratio.
105. By inspecting this series we find that it has the
following properties :
1. The last term is equal to the first, multiplied by
the common ratio raised to a power, the index of which
is one less than the number of terms. Therefore, if 2
denote the last term, and « the number of terms,
•zxiar”-1.
2. The
Ine quantities in this case must be all of the same kind, that is, if a and b denote surfaces, then c and d
must also denote surfaces, but they cannot represent lines, &c.
algebra.
y uction The product of the first and last term is equal to
of the product of any two terms equally distant from
I aliens, them : thus, suppo>ing ars the last term, it is evident
^ v""",,that oXa/ J=crx^4=ar* X^r3, &c.
106. The sum of all the terms may be found thus :
let s represent that sum, then, supposing the number of
terms to be six, s=.a+ar-\-ar%-{.(ir*-\-ciTA-}-ars, and
multiplying these equals by r, sr=:ar ar3-j-ar4
+ If from the lower line, or ^r=ror-j-or*-{-
. . we subtract the upper line, or s~a-\-ai'-\-
. , the remainders will evidently be equal;
but on the one side of the sign =r we have sr—.9, and
on the other at6—a : therefore, .9;’—sczai*—o, and
dividing byr—I,
Let us now, instead of
6, substitute n (for the number of terms put down was
6), and we have the following general rule for finding
the sum of a series of quantities in continued geometri-
—a a(rn—1)
cal proportion, s— , or s— — —.
r—1 r—1
Sect. VI. Of the Reduction of Equations involving
one unknown quantity.
107. The general object of algebraic investigation
is to discover certain unknown quantities, by compar¬
ing them with other quantities which are given, or
supposed to be known. The relation between the
known and unknown quantities is either that of equa¬
lity, or else such as may be reduced to equality ; and
a proposition which affirms that certain combinations
of quantities are equal to one another is called an equa¬
tion. Such are the following, - + , ix-\.^y=zxy;
2 3 a?
the first of these equations expresses the relation
between an unknown quantity a?, and certain known
numbers; and the second expresses the relation which
the two indefinite quantities x and y have to each
other.
108. When a quantity stands alone on one side of
an equation, the terms on the other side are said to be
a value of that quantity. Thus in the equation x—
ay+b—c, the quantity x stands alone on one side, and
—c is its value.
109. The conditions of a problem may be such as
to require several equations and symbols of unknown
quantities for their complete expression; these, however,
by rules hereafter to be explained, may be reduced to
one equation, involving only one unknown quantity and
its powers, besides the known quantities ; and the me¬
thod of expressing that quantity, by means of the known
quantities, constitutes the theory of equations, one of
the most important as well as most intricate branches
of algebraic analysis.
HO. An equation is said to be resolved when the
unknown quantity is made to stand alone on one side,
and only known quantities on the other side ; and the
value of the unknown quantity is called a root of the
equation.
Hi. Equations containing only one unknown quan¬
tity and its powers, are divided into different orders, ac¬
cording to the highest power of that quantity contain¬
ed in any one of its terms. The equation, however, is
supposed to be reduced to such a form, that the un¬
known quantity is found only in the numerators of the
terms, and that the exponents of its powers are expressed
by positive integers.
112. If an equation contains only the first power of
tie unknown quantity, it is called a simple equation,
or an equation of the first order. Such is ax
y.iere x denotes an unknown, and a, b, c known quan¬
tities.
113. If the equation contains the second power of
the unknown quantity, it is said to be of the second
degree, or is called a quadratic equation ; such is 4#*
-f-3*=:i2, and in general oat3-}-^—c. If it contains
the third power of the unknown quantity, it is of the
third degree, or is a cubic equation. Such are x3 
2.v*-j~4A?zr 10, and ax3-\-ca~d, and so on, with
respect to equations of the higher orders. A simple
equation is sometimes said to be linear, or to be of one
dimension. In like manner, quadratic equations are said
to be equations of two dimensions, and cubic equations
to be of three dimensions.
114. When in the course of an algebraic investiga¬
tion we arrive at an equation involving only one un¬
known quantity, that quantity will often be so en¬
tangled in the different terms, as to render several pre¬
vious reductions necessary before the equation can be
expressed under its characteristic form,, so as to be re¬
solved by the rules which belong to that form.
These reductions depend upon the operations which
have been explained in the former part of this treatise,
and the application of a few self-evident principles,
namely, that if equal quantities be added to, or subtract¬
ed from equal quantities, the sums or remainders will be
equal ; if equal quantities be multiplied, or divided by
the same quantity, the products or quotients will be
equal ; and, lastly, if equal quantities be raised to the
same power, or have the same root extracted out of
each, the results will still be equal.
From these considerations are derived the following
rules, which apply alike to equations of all orders, and
are alone sufficient for the resolution of simple equa¬
tions.
115. Rule I. Any quantity may be transposed from
one side of an equation to the other, by changing its
signs.
Thus, if 3^5
Then *=5 4-3
Or *=8
And if 3,r—10=2#-f-5
Then 3#—2»=5-f-io
Or *=IJ
Again, liax-\-bz=icx—dx-^-e
Then ax—cx-\-dx—e—b
Or {a—c-\-d)x=:e—b
The reason of this rule is evident, for the transpos¬
ing a quantity from one side of an equation to the
other is nothing more than adding the same quantity
to each side of the equation, if the sign of the quan¬
tity transposed was — ; or subtracting it, if the sign
was 4-.
From this rule we may infer, that if any quantity
be found on each side of the equation with the same
sign, it may be left out of both. Also, that the sign's
of all the terms of an equation may be changed into
4 I 2 tba
6 I 9
Reduction
of
Equations.
620
ALGEBRA.
^Redaction the contrary without affecting the truth of the equa-
tlon.
Equ^ion*- Thus, If —c
Then x—b-^c
And if a—x—b—d
Then x—a—d—b.
li 6. Rule 2. If the unknown quantity In an equation
he multiplied by any quantity, that quantity may he
taken away, by dividing all the other terms of the
equation by it.
If 3iv=r24 •
Then a?=—=8
3
If ax—b—c
b—c b c
Then *=—=
Here equal quantities are divided by the same quan¬
tity, and therefore the quotients are equal.
117. Rule 3. If any term of an equation be a fraction,
its denominator may be taken away by multiplying
all the other terms of the equation by that denomi¬
nator.
Tf ^
, 5~7
„ Then #=35
If --b—c+d
a
Then xzzab--ac-\-ad
V 6
It a zzc.
v—bz
zcx.
In these examples, equal quantities are multiplied
by the same quantity, and therefore the products are
equal.
118. The denominators may be taken away from se¬
veral terms of an equation by one opwation, if we mul¬
tiply all the terms by any number which is a multiple
of each of these denominators.
Thus, if--f-- 4--—26.
2 3 4
Let all the terms be multiplied by 12, which is a
multiple of 2, 3, and 4, and we have
1 2# I2A? 12X
_4.-_-4.__
-.312
Or 6x-\-^x-\-3xzz3X2
Hence I2tf=:3i2
Universally, if - * +-=d—e.
a b 1 c
la.take away the denominators o, bt c, let the whole
equation be multiplied hy a b cr their product, and ws
have
bcx—acx-1rabx~abc(d e)
Or {be—ac+ab)x=:abc{d—e).
119. From the two last rules it appears that if all
the terms of an equation be either multiplied or divided
by the same quantity, that quantity may be left out of
all the terms.
2
If axzzab—ae
Then x~b—c
Andif-=- + -
a a n
Then x—b^-c.
120. Rule. If the unknown quantity is found in any
term which is a surd, let that surd be made to stand
alone on one side of the equation, and the remaining
terms on the opposite side j then involve each side to
a power denoted by the index of the surd, and thus
the unknown quantity shall be freed from the surd
expression.
If v/a?4-6=io
Then by transposition ^/.v—10*—6=04
And squaring both sides x \Zk=4 X 4
Or  16.
Also, if —b=zx
By trans. t^/a*-\-x*—b-{-x
And squaring, a14-x*=:fb+x),=zbt4-2bx4.t<*
Hence a*=b*JL2bx.
i 
And if a*x—b*x—a
Then a*x—b^x—d*.
I 21. Rule. If the side of the equation, which contains
the unknown quantity, be a perfect power, the equa¬
tion may be reduced to another of a lower order, by
' extracting the root of that power out of each side of
the equation.
Thus if x3zz64ai
Then, by extracting the cube root, xzztia
And if {a-^-xy—b*—a*
Then a-^x—^y^—a*.
122. The use of the preceding rules will be farthet;
illustrated by the following examples :
Ex. 1. Let 20—3#—8=60—•jx
By rule 1. 7*?—3*:= 60 4*8—20
Or 4#=48
Therefore by rule 2. x=z 12. ;> •
Ex. 2. Let ax—b~cx-\-d
By rule I. ax—cx=b~\-d
Or (g—c)#=£-1-g?
And by rule 2. y—
a—c
Rfduc
ef
Kquati
Ex. 3. Let
*"M 1 _ j *-{-3
, , 2A?+4
*+!+—r-^32-
2*4-6
. 3 4
'By rule 3. <| , , 6*4-18
j 3*+3 + 2*+4=96 
112*4-124-8*4-164-384—6*—18
Or 20*4-28=366—-6*
Hence, by rule 1. 26*:=338
And by rule 2. #= 13-
In this example, instead of taking away the deno¬
minators one after another, they might have been all
taken away at once, by multiplying the given equation
A L G E
[taction T>y which is dirisible by the numbers 2, 3, and 4 j
ai thus we should have got 6.v-(-6-J-4*-{-8=:i92—3.V—9,
and hence, as before, Am: 13.
Ex. 4. Let 6xl—20.v*=r 16x*+2x3.
Then dividing by 2X*f
And transposing,
Or
And therefore
3A:—10=8-{-•*■
—x =8-f 10
2X~l 8
2XZZQ.
Ex. 5. Let
b*
Then
And
ax—b*~cx
ax—cx—b%
Whence x~
J5x. 6. Let x—6=
b*
a—c
x*
*+24
Then (a?—6) (at+24)=^*
That is, 18at—144mas*
Therefore i8a?==i44
And a?rr8.
v r * , is ax'+ac*
Ex. 7. Let oa?4-c>~ .
a-fA?
ITien
Or a*x-\-ab*-\-ax*-\-lilx=:ax*’\‘acl
Hence aix-{-b*x'=ac*—ab*
ac*—ab2
a' + b' *
And
xzz
Hence, xzz-
Ex. 8. Let -—-zza.
I Cl
Then I —xzza-\-ax
And —x—ax—a—I
Or changing the signs, Af-f-aam 1—a
1—a
i-j-a*
Ex. 9. Let
Then by rule 4. 12 -}-xzz^-{-^>/x-\-x
And by transposition Szz^^/x
And by division 2=\/*
And again by rule 4. 4mAr.
Ex. 10. Let x-t-A^/a%+x*zz—~a~ ■
Then, by rule 3. X/^/a*-{•x*-\-a*-{-xfzz20*
And by transposition, &c. x*Ja%-\-x*zzdt—a;4
Therefore, by rule 4. a,x*-{-M4z:a*—2aBx*-{-x*
Whence ^aaxazza*
o% a
And x'zz—, therefore, rule 5. xzz—j=
3 V3
Ex. 11. Let
->w/1—xm
i+s/1—x2
Then I—Vl—H'zza-Ua^/T-
BRA.
And 1—a—atj 1—;
Whence —
i-j-o ^
111—a?*= r—a?s
And, taking the square of both sides, ^
Therefore xz
(,I+a)*
Therefore, by transposition, a?*=i—^ I'~~a^
(i+o)4
That is, *4= (H-o)4—(*—_ _ 4«
(l-}-o)a (l-f-o)*
2V/“>
I Cl
Ex. 12. Let a-f x=\/a1+x^Jb*+
Then (a+a?) *=:a* -{-x^/b* + at*
That is, o*lax+x*zza*-f-x^/b* -{-a?*
Therefore 2o:r-f-ffs=.z\A2 + A;2
And dividing by x, la-^-xzzA^/p-^-x2
Again taking the squares of both sides, 4o*4-40^4-a'*
zzfr+x*
Whence 4a*-f-4aar=:^2
And 40a;=^2—4a2 j so that xzz   
4a
123. In all these examples we have been able to de¬
termine the value of the unknown quantity by the
rules already delivered, because in every case the first,
or at most the second power of that quantity, has been
made to stand alone on one side of the equation, while
the other consisted only of known quantities j but the
same methods of reduction serve to bring equations of
all degrees to a proper form for solution. Thus if
1—r ,
 : =1—p—- j by proper reduction, we
1 X
have xl-{-px* ^.qxzzr, a cubic equation, which may be
resolved by rules to be afterwards explained.
Sect. VII. Of the Reduction of Equations involving
more than one unhno’wn quantity.
124. Having shown in the last section in what man¬
ner an equation involving one unknown quantity may
be resolved, or at least fitted for a final solution, we are
next to explain the methods by which two or more
equations, involving as many unknown quantities, may
at last be reduced to one equation, and one unknown
quantity.
As the unknown quantities may be combined toge¬
ther in very different ways, so as to constitute an equa¬
tion, the methods most proper for their extermination
must therefore be various. The three following, how¬
ever, are of general application, and the last of them
may be used with advantage, not only when the un¬
known quantity to be exterminated arises to the same
power in all the equations, but also when the equations-
contain different powers of that quantity.
125. Method 1. Observe which of the unknown’
quantities is the least involved, and let its value be found
from each equation by the rules of last section.
Let the values thus found be put equal to each-
•ther, and hence new equations will arise, from which
that
621
of
Equations.
 ^  
622
A L G E
Reduction that quantity is wholly excluded. Let the same ope-
of ration be now repeated with the same equations, and
'Equations. (.j3R unknown quantities exterminated one by one, till
v at last an equation be found, which contains only one
unknown quantity.
Ex. Let it be required to determine x and y from
these two equations.
From the first equation
And
From the second equation
And
2*+3y=23
5*—2y=io
2x=23—3y
 2 3—3^
c#=:io4-2y
io + 2y
Let these values of # be now put equal to each
other,
io+2y_ 23—3y
5
And we have
Or
Therefore
And
And since x
__23‘
2o + 4y=i25
y=s
-3.V
■r5y
of these values we find A?=r4.
x— —from either
5
126. Method 2. Let the value of the unknown quan¬
tity, which is to be exterminated, be found from that
equation wherein it is least involved. Let this value,
and its powers, be substituted for that quantity, and
its respective powers in the other equations j and with
the new equations thus arising, let the operation be re¬
pealed, till there remain only one equation, and one un¬
known quantity.
Ex. Let the given equations, as in last method, be
2*+3y=23
Sx—2y—10
From the first equation x~ -3*"*^
2
And this value of x being substituted in the second
equation, we have 5 x —— 2y = 10
Or 115—I5y—4y=:20
Therefore 95=19^
And S~y
And hence x~ —^as before.
2
127. Method 5. Let the given equation be multi¬
plied or divided by such numbers or quantities, whe¬
ther known or unknown, that the term which involved
the highest power of the unknown quantity may be the
same in each equation.
Then by adding or subtracting the equations, as oc¬
casion may require, that term will vanish, and a new
equation emerge, wherein the number of dimensions of
the unknown quantity in some cases, and in others the
number of unknown quantities, will be diminished ;
and by a repetition of the same, or similar operations,
3
BRA.
a final equation may be at last obtained, involving only Reduct.
one unknown quantity. of
Ex. Let the same example be taken, as in the illu-
stration of the two former methods, namely,
2*4-33^=23
4#—2y—10
and from these two equations we are to determine x
and y. To exterminate x, let the first equation be
multiplied by 8, and the second by 2, thus we have
iox+ijym 15
I oar— 4y— 20
Here the term involving x is the same in both equa¬
tions, and it is obvious that by subtracting the one from
the other, the resulting equation will contain only y,
and known numbers, for by such subtraction we find
19^=95, and therefore y—5.
Having got the value ofy, it is easy to see how *■
may be found, from either of the given equations ; but
it may also be found in the same manner as we found y.
For let the first of the given equations be multiplied by
2, and the second by 3, and we have
4#-f-6y:=:46
15*—6y=3°
By adding these equations, we find
19^=76
and therefore xzr. 4.
128. The following examples will serve farther to il¬
lustrate these different methods of exterminating the un¬
known quantities from equations. ,
Ex. 1. Given
{d::}
L5 9 J
Required x and
By Method 1.
From the first equation we find ^=32—~
cv
.r=r 1 o -4- —
9
And from the second
Therefore 10-4-—=32— —
^ 9 n 3
Or 90-f-5y=288—6y
Hence 1 iy~ 198
And y~ 18
The value of y being substituted in either of the va¬
lues of *, namely, 32— or io4- — we find *=20,
3 9
By Method 2.
Having found from the first given equation x—3 2—
2y
—, let this value of x be substituted in the second.
3
thus we have
5
Or
Hence
And
i(32_2)_2=:
5\ 3 ' 9
3' ' 9
5 IS 9
198=1 ry
y
»-=2
l8=
The
uction
of
lotions.
A L G E
The value of y being now substituted in either of the
given equations, we thence find *=20 as before.
By Method 3.
7 he denominators of the two given equations being
taken away by rule 3. of last section, we have
3* + 2y=96
9x—Sy~9o
brom three times the first of these equations, or gx
+6y= 288, let the second be subtracted, and there re¬
mains
11^=198
And hence y~ 18
The value of y being now substituted in either of
the equations ^x-\-2y~g6, gx—yy—90, we readily
find xz=20.
129. Having now shewn in what manner the dift'er-
ent methods of exterminating the unknown quantities
may be applied, we shall, in the remaining examples of
this section, chiefly make use of the last method, because
it is the most easy and expeditious in practice.
B R A.
Ex. 2. Given
2 —12 4 + S
AT-f-
.
■ -—8
_ 2//-
.27
}
5 ' 3
It is required to determine x and y.
From the 1st equation we have 4A1—96=1:2^4-64.
And from the second, l2x-j-i2y-{-20X—480=207/
-15*4-1620.
These two equations, when abridged, become
4*—2;/= 160
47*—i8y=2ioo
To exterminate y ; from this last equation let 9 times
the one preceding it be subtracted.
Thus we find Jl*=66o
And *=60
And because 2?/=4*—160=80
Therefore
2y=4*-
y=4°.
Ex.
Given jy*^|__^To determine * and y.
lo exterminate y, let the first equation be multiplied
hy/, and the second by b, and we have
afx+bfy—cf
b dx 4* bfy— bg
Xaking now the difference between these equations,
we find
afx—bdx—cf-—bg
(«/i—bd)x=:cf-—bg
°f—bK
af-—bd
In the same manner may y be determined, by multi-
plying the first of the given equations by <7, and the se¬
cond by a; for we find
adx-\-bd y—c d
adx-\-a fy—ag
*ad taking the difference as before, we get
Or
And therefore
bdy.
And therefore
-afy—cd—ag
 cd—ag
^ b d—af
623
Reduction
of
fe'.quationc.
I his last example may be considered as a general
solution of the following problem. Two equations ex¬
pressing the relation between the first powers of two
unknown quantities being given, to determine those
quantities. lor whatever be the number of terms in
each equation, it will readily appear, as in example 2d,
that by proper reduction, they may be brought to the
same form as those given in the 3d example.
13°. Let us next consider such equations as involve
three unknorvn quantities.
x+y+% =29
Ex. 4. Given «r + 23/+32;-62
“ .07 7/
x y %
"34
-2
29l
»jT-
find *, y, and a.
VS e shall in this example proceed according to the
rules of the first method for exterminating the unknown
quantities.
From the first equation
From the second
From the third
x= 29—y—55
x—62—2iy—3»
2 7/ %
x—20   .
Let these values of x be put equal to each other, thus
we get the two following equations,
-13=62—2y—32;
  2y %
~ - "'-J—2*
Again, from these two equations, by transposition, &Ci.
we find
y=33—2*
29—y-
29—y-
Therefore
25S
y=27-^.
33—23=27—^-.
And hence, by reduction, «=I2
Whence also 7—33—213=9
And *=29—y—53=8.
E*
fx . V 52 ^
—H——62
234
x y %
5. tjiven <5 - 4- - 4. -=47
|3 4 5
\ x y %
U + 5+S=38J
► To fiud*,y, and *
Here the given equations, when cleared from frac¬
tions, become
12*4- 8y-f- 625 = 1488
20*4-1 yy 4-1225=2820
30*4-24y-f-20!3=456o
To exterminate % by the third method, let the first
equation be multiplied by 10, the second by 5, and the
third by 3, the results will be these:
J2o*4-8oy-f-6o!3=i488o
100*4-75y4-60 53=14100
90*4-72y4-6o:3=:i368o
Ljfet»
624
ALGEBRA,
Reduction Let tlie second equation be now subtracted from the
of first, and the third from the second, and we have
Equations,
w—v I 20x+si/=78°
I OAT-j-33^=420
Next to exterminate y, let the first of these equations
l>e multiplied by 3, and the second by 5, hence
60^ + 15^=2340
yotf+ijy—2100
Subtracting now the latter equation from the former,
Therefore
d—bx k—gx
-f~c-Jx+h' an e^Uatlon In whlch thc Equatil.
unknown quantity is found.
Ex. 9. Given
S y*—3^y+oy=A’4 7 To exter-
^ y* + 2ax—by—^x1—b"1 ^ minate y.
As the coefficient of y2 is unity in both equations, if
their difference be taken, the highest power of y will
vanish ; but to give a general solution, let the terms of
the equations be brought all to one side and made equal
to o, thus,
Hence
io.*= 240
.r=24
Therefore y~^-—=6o
And
1448—12*—8y
——   - = 120
6
131. From the preceding examples, it is manifest in
What manner any number of unknown quantities may
be determined, by an equal number of equations, which
contain only the first power of those quantities, in the
numerators of the terms. Such are the following.
o*+^y+c2s=n
dx+ey+f*=P
gx+hy+k%z=q
where a, £, c, &c. represent known, and y, x, un¬
known quantities; and in every case of this kind, the
unknown quantities may be directly found, for they
will be always expressed by whole numbers, or rational
fractions, provided that the known quantities a, b, c,
&.c. are also rational.
132. We shall now add a few examples, in which
the equations that result from the extermination of an
unknown quantity arise to some of the higher degrees ;
and therefore their final solution must be referred to the
sections which treat of those degrees.
Ex. 6. Let*—y=2, and *y+5*—6y=i2o5 it is
required to exterminate x.
From the first equation *=y+2 j which value being
substituted in the other equation according to the se¬
cond general method (§ 126.) it becomes
.(y+2)y+5(y+2)—6y=i 20
that is y* + 2y+5 y+io—6y=i2o
therefore the equation required is y*+y=iio.
Ex.q. There is given *+y=:a, and *a+y* + £ ; to
exterminate x.
From the first equation *~er—y, and *2=(a—y)*.
And from the second **=£ y\
Therefore (a—^y)*=^ y*
That is a*—'lay Jf.y^—h 
Hence 2y 2ay~b—a* j an equation involving
only y.
Ex. 8. Given |To exterminate y.
From the first equation we find y~—~^xl
ax-j-c
And from the second v=-—
3,»__(3*_0)y__*»=o
y*—by+2c*—4**+£2—o
Let us in the first equation put l=A, —(3*—o)
~B, —**=C •, and in the second, i=D, —£=E, 20*
—4**+£* = F, and the two equations become
Ay2+By+Giro
%I+%+F=°
To exterminate y*, let the first equation be multi¬
plied by D, and the second by A, and we have
ADy2+BDy+GD=o
ADy*+AEy + AF=o
Therefore, taking the difference of these equations,
(BD—AE)y+CD—AF=o
, , AF—CD
And ^““UD—AE
Again, to find another value of y, multiply the first
equation by F, and the second by C, then
AF4<*+BFy+CF=o
CDy*+CEy+CF=o
Therefore, subtracting as before, we get
(AF—CD)y*+(BF—CE)y=o
And dividing by y(AF—CDjy + BF.—CE =0]
Therefore, y=-^IlH.
Ah—CD
Let this value of y be put equal to the former value,
, , AF—CD CE—BF
lhas,ve haVeI5__E=;sp;_,
And therefore (AF—CD)*=(BD—AE) (CE—BF.)
Now as y does not enter this equation, if we restore
the values of A, B, C, &c. we have the following equa¬
tion which involves only *, and known quantities.
(£* + 2«*—3**)*= (a+£—3*) (&*9—(a—3*)(2«*—-
4**+£*) j this equation when properly reduced will be
of the fourth order, and therefore its final resolution be¬
longs not to this place.
Sect. VIII. Questions producing Simple Equations*
133. When a problem is proposed to be resolved
by the algebraic method of analysis, its true meaning
ought in the first place to be perfectly understood, so
that, if necessary, it may be freed from all superfluous
and ambiguous expressions j and its conditions exhibited
in the clearest point of view possible. The several
quantities concerned in the problem are next to be de¬
noted by proper symbols, and their relation to one
another expressed agreeably to the algebraic notation.
Thus
A L G
mpie Thus we shall obtain a series of equations, which, if the
[ations. question be properly limited, will enable us to deter-
mine all the unknown quantities required by the rules
already delivered in the two preceding sections.
134. In reducing the conditions of a problem to
equations, the following rule will be of service. Sup¬
pose that the quantities to be determined are actually
found, and then consider by what operations the truth
of the solution may be verified ; then, let the same
operations be performed upon the quantities, whether
known or unknown, and thus all the conditions of the
problem will be reduced to a series of equations, such
as is required. For example 3 suppose that it is re¬
quired to find two numbers, such, that their sum is
20, and the quotient arising from the division of their
difference by the lesser 3 ; then if we denote the great¬
er of the two numbers by x, and the lesser by y, and
proceed as if to prove the truth of the solution, we
shall have x-^y for the sum of the numbers, and x—y
for their difference. Now as the former must be equal
to 20, and the latter divided by y equal to 3 5 the
first condition of the problem will be expressed by this
equation .v-f y:
:20, and the second by — y—3,
and
from these the values of a: and y may easily be found.
135. When the conditions of a problem have been
expressed by equations, or as it were translated from
the common language into that of algebra, we must
next consider, whether the problem be properly limit¬
ed 3 for, in some cases, the conditions may be such as
to admit of innumerable solutions 3 and in others, they
may involve an absurdity 3 and thus render the pro¬
blem altogether impossible.
136. Now by considering the examples of last sec¬
tion, it will readily appear, that to determine any num¬
ber of unknown quantities, there must be given as many
equations as there are unknown quantities. These equa¬
tions, however, must be such as cannot be derived from
each other 5 and they must not involve any contradic¬
tion 3^ for, in the one case, the problem would admit
of an unlimited number of answers 3 and in the other
case, it would be impossible. For example, if it were
required to determine x andy from these two equations,
2x—3y—13, 4#—6y=r263 as the latter equation is a
consequence of the former (for each term of the one is
the half of the corresponding term of the other) it is
evident, that innumerable values of x and y might be
found to satisfy both equations. Again, if x and y
were to be determined from these equations, a?-|-2y=8,
3*+6y= 26, it will quickly appear, that it is impossi¬
ble to find such values of x and y, as will satisfy both
equations : for, from the first of them, we find $X—
24—6y ; and from the second, ^x—26—6y ; and
therefore 24—6y=26—6y, or 24=1:26, which is ab¬
surd 3 and so also must have been the conditions from
which this conclusion is drawn.
137* But there is yet another case in which a pro¬
blem may be impossible 3 and that is, when there are
more equations than unknown quantities 3 for it ap¬
pears, that in this case, by the rules of last section,
we would at last find two equations, each involving
the same unknown quantity. Now unless these equa¬
tions happened to agree, the problem would admit of
no solution. Upon the whole, therefore, it appears,
Vol. I. Part II. f
E B R A.
that a problem is limited, when the conditions afford
just as many independent equations as there are un¬
known quantities to be determined 3 if there be fewer
equations the problem is indeterminate ; but if there be
more, the problem in general admits of no solution what¬
ever.
138. In expressing the conditions of a problem by
equations, it will, in general, be convenient to intro¬
duce as few symbols of unknown quantities as possible.
1 herefore, if two quantities be sought and their sum be
given, suppose it =: s, then if the one quantity be re¬
presented by X) the other may be denoted by s—x. If
again their difference be given = d, the quantities may
be denoted by xy and d-\-x, or by x, and x—d. If
their product be given = p, the quantities are x, and
P
— i and so on,
x
139. We shall now apply the preceding observations
to some examples, which are so chosen as to admit of
being resolved by simple equations.
Ex. 1. What is that number, to which if there be
added its half, its third, and its fourth part, the sum
will be 50 P
Let x denote the number sought. Then its half will
be —, its third -, and its fourth -.
2 3 4
625
Simple
Equations.
Therefore
XX X
x -j—-I—-j——co.
x 2 '3 *4 •>
Hence we find 24«-f-i2#-{-8:v’+6A;:=:i200.
Or 50#== 1200.
Therefore #=24.
Thus it appears that the number sought is 24, which
upon trial will be found to answer the conditions of the
question.
Ex. 2. A post is ^ of its length in the mud, in the
water, and 10 feet above the water, what is its whole
length ?
Let its length be x feet, then the part in the mud is
x , _ . x
-j and that in the water - 3 therefore, from the nature
4 3
of the question,
x , x
— f-iorrr.
4 3
From which equation we find 7#+ 120=12#, and *•=:
24.
Ex. 3. Two travellers set out at the same time from
London and York, whose distance is 150 miles; one
of them goes 8 miles a-day, and the other 7; in what
time will they meet ?
Suppose that they meet after x days.
Then the one traveller has gone 8# miles, and the
other 7« miles 3 now the sum of the distances they tra¬
vel is, by the question, equal to the distance from Lon¬
don to York.
Therefore 8a?-f. 7^= 150
15^=150, and a?=io days.
Ex. 4. A labourer engaged to serve for 40 days,
upon these conditions; that for every day he worked
he was to receive 2od. but for every day he played,
or was absent, he was to forfeit 8d. 3 now at the end
4K ®f
626
ALGEBRA.
Simple
Equations.
of the time he had to receive ll. ns. 8d. It is required
to find how many days he worked, and how many days
he was idle.
Let x be the number of days he worked.
Then will 40—x be the number of days he was idle.
Also 2oy,x—20x~ the sum he earned in pence.
And 8x(4°—a?)=320—Stfzrthe sum he forfeited.
Now the diflerence of these two was il. us. 8d. or
38od.
Therefore 20x—(320—8») = 38o,
That is 28.r=700.
Hence x=2^= the number of days he worked,
And 40—x— 15— the number of days he was idle.
-Ex. 5. A market-woman bought a certain number of
eggs at 2 a-penny, and as many at 3 a-pennyj and sold
them all out again at 5 for 2d.: but, instead of getting
her own money for them, as she expected, she lost 4d.:
what number of eggs did she buy ?
Let x be the number of eggs of each sort.
Then will - be the price of the first sort.
x
And - = the price of the second sort.
Now the whole number being 2X, we have
AX
5 : 2x :: 2 : — = price of both sorts at 5 for 2d.
Therefore ^ 4’ question.
Hence 15*4-10^—24.?=: 120,
And x~i20, the number of each sort.
.
Ex. 6. A bill of 120I. was paid in guineas and moi-
dores: the number of pieces of both sorts that were used
was 100 ; how many were there of each ? '
Let the number of guineas be x.
Then the number of moidores will be 100 x.
Also the value of the guineas, reckoned in shillings,
will be 2ix ; and that of the moidores 27(100 a?)=
27OO 2JX.
Therefore, by the question, 2LV+2700—27^=2400.
Hence we find 6x=^oo, and #=50.
So that the number of pieces of each sort was 50.
Ex. 7. A footman agreed to serve his master for 81.
a-year, and livery ; but was turned away at the end of
7 months, and received only 2l. 13s. 4d. and his livery j
what was its value ?
Suppose x the value of the livery, in pence.
1 hen his wages for a year were to be #4.1920 pence.
^°r ^ mont!ls he received #4-640 pence.
Now he was paid in proportion to the time he served.
ns m
Therefore 12 : 7 x + i92o : #4-640.
And taking the product of the extremes and means,
i2#4-768o=7#4-i3440.
Hence 5#=576od. and #=ii52d.=4l. 16s.
Ex. 8. A person at play lost 4 of his money, and then
won 3s. •, after which he lost 4 of what he then had
and then won 2s. j lastly, he lost \ of what he then
bad 5 and, this done, found he had only 12s. left: what
kad he at first ?
Suppose he began play with x shillings.
He lost 4 of his money, or -, and had left #— - ,EqB>tio
4 4^^
_ 3*
4’
He won 3s. and had then ~ 4-3——-~^~12.
He lost 4 of or ?i±4 and bad |eft 3*+^
4 4 4
*4-4_ 2#4-8
~4~~ 4
He won 2s. and had then ——4- 2=
He lost 4 of or an(i had kft
4 28 ’ 4
2#4 16 _ I 2#4-96
28 ~~ 28 ’
tion
And because he had now 12s. left, we have this equa-
12# 4-96
28
= 12.
Hence I2#=240, and #=20.
Ex. 9. 1 wo tradesmen, A and B, are employed upon
a piece of work ; A can perform it alone in 15 hours,
and B in 10 hours: in what time will they do it when
working together ?
Suppose that they can do it in x hours, and let the
whole work be denoted by 1.
h h x
TJien 15 : * 1 : — = the part of the work done
by A.
h h x
And 10 : # 1 : —^ ~ the part done bv B.
Now, by the question, they are to perform the whole
work between them $
Therefore, — 4- — =z r.
15 1 10
Hence 25#=i5o, and #r=6 hours.
Ex. 10. The sum of any two quantities being given
=5, and their difference r=r/, it is required to find each
of the quantities.
Let # denote the greater of the two quantities, and y
the lesser.
Then #4y=’?, and #—y~d.
Taking the sum of the equations we get 2X—s-\-d,
And subtracting the second from the first, 2y—s d;
Therefore #= — ^ and yzz.
Ex. 11. A gentleman distributing money among some
poor people, found he wanted 10s. to be able to give
each 5s.; therefore he gave only 4s. to each, and had
5s. left. Required the number of shillings and poor
people.
Let the number of shillings be #, and that of the
poor people y ; then, from the nature of the question,
we have these two equations,
5?=*+10 4y=#—3.
Jbrom the first equation, x~yy—10,
And from the second, #=4^4.3 j
Therefore yy—10=4^4-5.
Hence 3=15, and #=4^4-5=65.
Ex. 12.
m j
algebra.
nple Ex. 12. A farmer kept a servant for every 40 acres And in like manner 2 (A?4-2)=the fourth quantity.
xuom. ot ground he rented, and on taking a lease of 104 more Now by the question, the sum of all the fourrroo.
acres, he engaged 5 additional servants, after which he y
had a servant for every 36 acres. Required the num- Therefore x+x+a-U ■
her of servants and acres. 2 y >
Hence 9x^162, and a;=i:i8.
Therefore the numbers required are 18, 22, 10, and 40.
Ex. 16. A and B together can perform a piece of
work in. 12 hours, A and C in 20, and B and C in 13
hours j in what time will each be able to perform it
when working separately ?
That we may have a general solution, let us suppose
A and B can perform the work in a hours, A and C
in h hours, and 1> and C in c hours. Tet a?, and 2s,
denote the times in which A, B, and C, could perform
it respectively, if each wrought alone j and let the whole
work be represented by 1.
627
Simple
Equations.
Suppose that he had at first x servants, and y acres.
From the first condition of the question x—~.
40
And from the second x4- c—1P^.
36
By comparing the values of x, as found from these
equations, we have —— c——.
36 •> 40
Hence 403^+4160—7200=36^, so that 4^=3040.
V
Therefore 760, and x~ ——19.
Em. 13. Two persons, A and B, were talking of
their ages j says A to B, seven years ago I was just
three times as old as you were then, and seven years
hence I shall be just twice as old as you will be. What
is their present ages ?
Let the ages of A and B be a? and y respectively.
Their ages seven years ago were x—7 and y—-*], and
seven years hence they will be A?-j-7 and y + 7*
Therefore by the question
*—7=30—7) and *+7=20+7)-
From the first equation, A?=r3y—14,
And from the second Ar=z2y+7*
Therefore 3y—i4=2y+7 j hence y=2I.
And because a—2y + 7> therefore a?=:49.
Ex. 14. A hare is 50 leaps before a greyhound, and
takes 4 leaps to the greyhound’s 3, but 2 of the grey¬
hound’s leaps are as much as 3 of the hare’s. How
many leaps must the greyhound take to catch the hare ?
In this example there is only one quantity required,
it will, however, be convenient to make use of two let¬
ters ; therefore let x denote the number of leaps of the
greyhound and y those of the hare ; then, by consider¬
ing the proportion between the number of leaps each
takes in the same time, we have
3 ; 4 • : : y, hence.3y=4A\
Again, by considering the proportion between the num¬
ber of leaps each must take to run the same distance,
we find a: : 50-Fy : : 2 : 3, hence loo-f2y=3A;.
From the first equation we find 6y—%x.
And from the second 6y—<)X—300.
Hence 9A;—300=:8a;, and x—300.
Ex. 15. To divide the number 90 into 4 such parts,
that if the first be increased by 2, the second diminished
by 2, the third multiplied by 2, and the fourth divided
by 2} the sum, difference, product, and quotient, shall
be all equal to each other.
In this question there are four quantities to be deter¬
mined ; but instead of introducing several letters, having
put x to denote the first of them, we may find an ex¬
pression for each of the remaining ones, as follows :
Because Ar+2=:second quantity—2.
Therefore A?-j-4=the second quantity.
And because a?-f-2 = third X 2,
A?-f-2_
Therefore
:the third quantity.
H
Then x :
Also
H
a :
a
I : —=the part done by A I
1
in a hours*
-rrthe part done by B
-=zthe part done by A J
h ,
^rrthe part done by C
And y : c : : 1 : —=the part done by B
c
ss : c : : 1 : -=tue part done by C
in b hours.
in c hours.
Now by the question we have the three following
equations.
a a b b
—— I, —4- --
x y x 1 %
c . c
—f- _—1.
y *
Let the first equation be divided by «, the second by
£, and the third by c, thus we have
i4-i=-1 £+1=1 £+£=£.
a: y a x' % b' y~ % c
If these be added together, and their sum divided by
2, we find
i+£+i=JL+-L+.L.
X 1 y ^ 25 2(1 ' lb ' 2c
From this equation let each of the three last be sub^
tracted in its turn ; thus we get
1 ill -\-ab-\-ac—be
2(1 ' 2b ' 2C
I I II
2a
I
lb
I
2C
I
2abc
abc—ac^-bc
2abc
—ab-\-ac~\-bc
2a 2b
Hence «=
2C
2abc
2abc
= 7^=60
+aZ> + CC be 120
2abc
72QO_
-\-ab—ac+be
2abc
' 36°
7200
20
—fl^+tfe + fc"
4K2
240
=30.
Sect.
ALGEBRA.
628
Quadratic
Equations. Sect. IX. Of Quadratic Equations.
140. We are next to explain the manner of resplv-
ing equations of the second degree, or quadratic equa¬
tions. These involve the second power of the unknown
quantity, as has been already observed (§ 113.), and
may be divided into two kinds, and adjected.
141. I. Eure quadratic equations are such as after
proper reduction have the square of the unknown quan¬
tity in one term, while the remaining terms contain
only known quantities. Thus, ^z=:64, and ax'1 -j-£=rc,
are examples of pure quadratics.
142. II. Adjected quadratic equations, contain the
square of the unknown quantity in one term, and its
first or simple power in another, and the remaining
terms consist entirely of known quantities. Such are
the following, a:2-{-3#=28, 2.v1=33—jar, ax*Ebx-—
c~d.
143. The manner of resolving a pure quadratic equa¬
tion is sufficiently evident 5 if the unknown quantity be
made to stand alone on one side, with unity as a coeffi¬
cient, while the other side consists entirely of known
quantities, and if the square root of each side be taken,
we shall immediately obtain the value of the simple
power of the unknown quantity as already directed by
Rule 5th of Sect. VI.
144. In extracting the square root of any quantity,
however, it is necessary to observe, that the sign of the
root may be either 4- or —• This is an evident con¬
sequence of the rule for the signs in multiplication ; for
since by that rule any quantity, whether positive or ne¬
gative, if multiplied by itself, will produce a positive
quantity, and therefore the square of 4-«> as well as
that of — a is so, on the contrary, the square
root of 4-02 is to be considered either as + a or as
— o, and may accordingly be expressed thus z±za.
145. Having remarked that the square of any quan¬
tity, whatever be its sign, is always positive ; it evi¬
dently follows, that no real quantity whatever, when
multiplied by itself, can produce a negative quantity;
and therefore if the square root of a negative quantity
be required, no such root can be assigned. Hence it
also follows, that if a problem requires for its solution
the extraction of the square root of a negative quanti¬
ty, some contradiction must necessarily be involved,
either in the condition of the problem, or in the pro¬
cess of reasoning by which that solution has been ob¬
tained.
146. When an adfected quadratic equation is to be
resolved, it may always, by proper reduction, be brought
to one or other of the three following forms :
1. x* •\.})X~q
2. x*—px—q
3. x^—pxzz—q.
But as the manner of resolving each of the three
forms is the very same, it will be sufficient if we consi¬
der any one of them.
147. Resuming therefore the first equation, or a;2 4-
px—q ; let us compare the side of it which involves
the unknown quantity x with the square of a binomial
that is, let us compare x*^.px with x'1^-2ax-\-
a'l—{x-\-ayi; and it will presently appear, that if we
suppose p—la, or the quantities xi-\-px and a2-}-
2ax will be equal; and as x'-^-iax is rendered a com-
plete square, by adding to it a2, so also may x* -^px be
. . . p1
completed into a square, by adding to it —, which is
4
P** ' •
equal to a2 ; therefore, let -— be added to both sides
4
of the equation x x—q, and we have
, »2 o2 / pY p2
* —=—+?> or ^4_2/
P
and extracting the square root of each side,
—f-y; hence x——4-7.
148. From these observations we derive the follow¬
ing general rule for resolving adfective quadratic equa¬
tions.
1. Transpose all the terms involving the unknown
quantity to one side, and the known quantities to the
other side, and so that the term involving the square
of the unknown quantity may be positive.
2. If the square of the unknown quantity be multi¬
plied by a coefficient, let the other terms be divided
by it, so that the coefficient of the square of the un¬
known quantity may be 1.
3. Add to both sides the square of half the coeffi¬
cient of the unknown quantity itself, and the side of the
equation involving the unknown quantity will now be a
complete square.
4. Extract the square root of both sides of the equa¬
tion, by which it becomes simple with respect to the
unknown quantity; and by transposition, that quanti¬
ty may be made to stand alone on one side of the equa¬
tion while the other side consists of known quantities
and therefore the equation is resolved.
Note. The square root of the first side of the equation
is always equal to the sum, or difference, of the un¬
known quantity, and half the coefficient of the se¬
cond term. If the sine of that term be 4-> ^
equal to the sum, but if it be —, then it is equal to
the difference.
Ex. 1. Given a?2 4-2^=35, to determine x.
Here the coefficient of the second term is 2, there¬
fore adding the square of its half to each side, we have
4.2*4-1=354-1=36
And extracting the square root *4-i=\/36=.=fc6.
Hence *=rt:6—I, that is *=4-5, or x—J, and
either of these numbers will be found to satisfy the
equation, for 5 X 5 +2X 5=35) also —7 X—7 + 2 X
Ex. 2. Given — !2=a;, to find x.
6
This equation, when reduced, becomes *2—6x—h]2.
And by completing the square, x*—6*4‘9=72"f"9
= 81.
Hence by extracting the square root, x—
And *==±=94-3, therefore x~-\-i2, or xzz—6,
and upon trial we find that each of these values satis¬
fies
A L
G E B R
A.
a tic
• • • 12 X I 2
fies the original equation, for   12=12, also
6x-6
• 12=—6.
Ex. 3. Given A;*-f.28miA;, to find x.
Then xz—iia;= —28.
And, completing the square, .11*-j- —^
4 4
—38=-.
4
r • I I 2
Therefore, by extracting the root, x ~r±rv1-.
Hence ir=:—=±=--, that is, or Ar=-f 4.
2 2
In the first two examples, we found one positive value
for x in each, and also one negative value j but in this
example both the values of x are positive, and, upon
trial, each of them is found to satisfy the equation j for
7X 7+s8^11 X7, also 4x4+28=11 X4»
149. As at first sight it appears remarkable, that in
every quadratic equation the unknown quantity admits
always of two distinct values, or roots, it will be proper
to consider a little farther the circumstances upon which
this peculiarity depends. This is the more necessary, as
the property of the unknown quantity admitting of seve¬
ral values is not peculiar to quadratics, but takes place
also iu equations of the higher degrees, where the cause
of the ambiguity requires an explanation somewhat dif¬
ferent from that which we have already given in the
present case.
150. Let us again consider the equation A^+2^=r
35, which forms the first of the three preceding exam¬
ples ; by transposing all the terms to one side, the same
equation may be also expressed thus, xt-{-2x—35=0 j
so that we shall have determined x, when we have
found such a number, as when substituted for it in the
quantity x2-\-2x—35, will render the result equal to o.
But «a + 2x—35 is the product of these two factors
x—5, and .v + y, as may be proved by actual multipli¬
cation j therefore, to find x, we have (x—5) (^+7)
=0; and as a product can only become ~o, when
one of its factors is reduced to o, it follows, that either
of the two factors x—5 and #+7 may! be assumed
=Oj if x—5=0, then x=$', but if x-j-y=o, then
#=—7, so that the two values of x, or two roots of
the equation x2 -\-2x='$s are +5 and —7, as we have
already found in a different manner.
151. What has been just now shewn in a particular
case is true of any quadratic equation whatever, that
is, it x*-\-px—q, or by bringing all the terms to one
side, x'^-px—q~0, it is always possible to find two
factors ff+a, and x—such, that x*-\-px—q—(x-\-a)
(#—6), where a and b are known quantities, which
depend only upon p and q the given numbers in the
equation, and since that to have (.r—a) (a’+6)—o, vre
may either assume .r—a~o, or x-\-bxzO, it evidently
follows, that the conditions of the equation x2-\-px—q
=0, or x2-\-px—q are alike satisfied, by taking xz=-\-a
or x——b.
From these considerations, it follows, that x can
have only two values in a quadratic equation $ for if
it could be supposed to have three or more values,
2 .
then it would be possible to resolve xi-{-px~—q Into as Quadratie
many factors, x—e, x—d, &c.; but the product of Equations,
more than two factors must necessarily contain the third " ■rmmaa
or higher powers of x $ and as x2-^-px—q contains no
higher power than the second j therefore no such resolu¬
tion can take place.
I52. Since it appears that x*-f~px—q may be consi¬
dered as the product of two factors x—a, and »+£,
Jet us examine the nature of these factors } according¬
ly, taking their product by actual multiplication, we
find it —a)x—ub ; and since this quantity must
be equal to x*+px—q, it follows, that b—ci=p and
ab—or> changing the signs of the terms of both
equations, a b——p^ —ab~—q. Now if we consi¬
der that +c, and —b, are the roots of the equation
x2 -\-px~q ; it is evident that a—b is the sum of the
roots, and —ah their product. So that from the equa¬
tions a—b-=z—.77, and —ab—q, we derive the follow¬
ing proposition relating to the roots of any quadratic
equation. I he sum of the roots of any quadratic
equation x'+pxzz.q is equal to —7?, that is, to the co¬
efficient of the second term, having its sign changed j
and their product is equal to —q, or to the latter side
of the equation, having its sign also changed.
I53* Ibis proposition enables us to resolve several
important questions concerning the roots pf a quadra¬
tic equation, without actually resolving that equation.
Thus we learn from it, that if q, the term which does
not involve the unknown quantity, (called sometimes
the absolute number) be positive, the equation has one
of its roots positive, and the other negative ; but if that
term be negative, the roots are either both positive or
both negative. It also follows, that in the former case
the root which is denoted by the least number will have
the same sign with the second term, and in the latter
case, the common sign of the roots will be the contrary
to that of the second term.
154. From this property of the roots we may also de¬
rive a general solution to any quadratic equation xt~\-px
~q; lor we have only to determine two quantities
whose sum is —77, and product —<7, and whose quanti- ,
ties shall be the two values of #, or the two roots of the
equation.
Without considering the signs of the roots, let us call
them v and », then
v +* =r—77, and vz — —<7,
From the square of each side of the first equation let
four times the second be subtracted, and we have
v%—2^53+2;*—/>,+4<7 or (r—«)*=j!?*+4<7,
therefore by extracting the square root, v—r±r
'vV!+42'>' this equation, and from the equation
v + %—Pt we readily obtain v— ——^ 4?'
that is, ;f K= -£±4Z+4r
2   2
then s=r-/-.+1 + 4?, and if v=-p=^l±M>
2 ’ 2
then s=-P+VyI±4f.
2
But the value of v, upon the one supposition, is the
same as the value of z upon the other supposition, and
vice versai therefore, in reality, the only two distinct'1
values
630
ALGEBRA.
Quadratic —P+v//?l + 4<7
Equations, values of the roots v and z are— l
and
which agrees with- the conclusion we
have already found, (§ 148).
155. It appears from what has been already shewn,
that the roots of a quadratic equation x* -^px—q al¬
ways involve the quantity + hence it follows,
that jo* + 4y must be a positive quantity ) for if it were
negative, as the square root of such a quantity could
not be found, the value of x could not possibly be,
obtained. If for example the value of x were required
from this equation «*-j-13 4#, or x*—4^=—13,
we should find *=2=!=:*/—9J and as this expression
for the roots requires us to extract the square root of
—9, the equation from which it is derived must neces¬
sarily have involved some contradiction. It is not dif¬
ficult to see wherein the absurdity consists, for since in
this case —4, and qzz—13, the roots of the equa¬
tion ought to be both positive (§ 154), and such that
tbeir sum =4, while their product = 13, (§ 133),
which is impossible.
139. Although imaginary quantities serve no other
purpose in the resolution of quadratic equations, than
to shew that a particular problem cannot be resolved,
by reason of some want of consistency in its data 5 yet
they are not upon that account to be altogether reject¬
ed. By introducing them into mathematical investiga¬
tions, many curious theories may be explained, and pro¬
blems resolved in a more concise way, than can be done
without the use of such quantities. This is particularly
the case with respect to the higher parts of the mathe¬
matics.
137. The method which has been applied to the re¬
solution of quadratic equations, properly so called, name¬
ly, such as are of this form, x%-\-px=q, will also apply
to all equations of this form,
xtn ■Jf-pxn—q,
where the unknown quantity x is found only in two
terms, and such, that its exponent in the one term is
double that in the other j for let us assume then
Xxn—y*% and therefore the equation
-\-xin-\-pxnzzzq becomes
y'+py=q>
a quadratic equation, from which x may be found, and
thence a?, by considering that x~n\/p.
138. Before proceeding to give examples of ques¬
tions producing quadratic equations, it is proper to ob¬
serve, that although every such equation admits of two
roots} yet. it will frequently happen, that only one of
them can be of use, the other being excluded by the
conditions of the question. This will often be the case
with respect to the negative root; as, for example, when
the unknown quantity denotes a number of men, a
number of days, &c. And hence, in reckoning the
cases of quadratic equations, it is common to neglect
this one x* ±px=—q, where the roots are both nega¬
tive j for an equation of this form can only be derived
from a question which has some fault in its enunciation,
and which, by a proper change in its form, will produce
another equation having both its roots positive.
139. The remainder of this section shall be employ¬
ed in solving some questions which produce quadratic
equations.
Ex. I. It is required to divide the number 16 in- Quadra*
to two such parts, that the sum of their squares may Equati*,
be 38. ' ^ -v
Let x be the one number.
Then, since their sum is 10, we have 10-—A1 for the
other.
And by the question ^*-J-(io—a;)*zr38
That is A?*-j-ioo—20«-fa?2=38
Or 2x3—20A—38—loorr—42
Hence x*—xoarir—21
And completing the square —10#-{-23=23—2i~4
Hence, by extracting the root, x—3—^z=.zt:2.
And a:=3rfc2=7
That is *=7 or #=3.
If we take the greatest value of x, viz. 7, then the
other number 10—x will be 3 ; and if we take the
least value of x, viz. 3, then the other number is 7.
Thus it appears, that the greatest value of the one num¬
ber corresponds to the least value of the other j and in¬
deed this must necessarily be the case, seeing that both
numbers are alike concerned in the question. Hence,
upon the whole, the only numbers that will answer the
conditions of the question are 7 and 3.
Ex. 2. What two numbers are those whose product
is 28 ; and such, that twice the greater, together with
thrice the lesser, is equal to 26.
Let x be the greatest and y the least number, then,
from the nature of the question, we have these two
equations,
ary =28, 2A’-f-3y=26.
From the first equation we have y=
And from the second y=
26—2.r 28
28
M
26—2x
Hence,
3
And, reducing,
Or
Hence
l6x—2a‘*=84
2X*—26x——84
x1—13*=—42
And comp, the sq. ar2—i3a;-|-i£®:=:i-|£<>2£
Hence, by extracting the root x—zfc-j-
Therefore
Z
That is #=7, or a?=6.
And since y—~, we have y=4, or y—x~~.
Thus we have obtained two sets of numbers, which
fulfil the conditions required, viz.
*=7» 3'=4 : 0r *=6> y——'
And besides these, there can be no other numbers.
Ex. 3. A company dining together at an inu, find
their bill amount to 173 shillings ; two of them were
not allowed to pay, and the rest found, that their shares
amounted to 10 shillings a-man more than if they had
all paid. How many were in company ?
Suppose their number to be x.
Then, if all had paid, the share of each would have
been
175,
*■
But
3
algebra
mdratic Bat, because only x—2 paid, the share of each was
) iHtions, 175
^ ^ ‘ X—2*
Therefore, by the question, 1 ^ 1
I rom the first equation we have y~~
And from the second ^=r.v-{- 2 ;
631
IOA?
3^—1
Quadratic
Equations.
X 2 X
no.
Therefore #-(- 2=
io.v
And by proper reduction 175.V—175^+350=: lo*a
—20.
That is lOx*—20^=350
Or x*—2^—33
And comp, the sq. x%—2^ + 1 = 354.1=36
Hence, by extracting the root, a?z-{-t—-t-fi,
Therefore, 3, or x— — 7. But from the na¬
ture of the question, the negative root can be of no
use; therefore xzz6.
Ex. 4. A mercer sold a piece of cloth for 24I. and
gained as much per cent, as the cloth cost him ; what
was the price of the cloth ?
Suppose that it cost x pounds,
Then the gain was 24—x,
And by the question 100 : * : 24—tc,
Therefore, taking the product of the extremes and
means, 2400—ioo»=**,
Or .«*-J-iooA?zr2400,
And comp, the sq. a?*4 ioOAr +2300=4900,
Hence, taking the root, ^430=0^70,
And x~ 4 20 or—120.
Here, as in the last question, the negative root cannot
aPply » therefore xzz20 pounds, the price required.
Ex. 3. A grazier bought as many sheep as cost him
60I. out of which he reserved 13, and sold the remain¬
der for 34I. and gained 2s. each upon them. How
many sheep did he buy, and what did each cost him ?
Suppose that he bought x sheep,
Then each would cost him shillings.
Therefore, after reserving 13, he sold each of the
remaining *r—15 for ^^-4 2 shillings.
x .
3x—r
And 3^*43^—2=10#.
Hence a?2—
And comp. sq. *■-4*+44=-H+t=4S ;
J-heretore, taking the root x— 
So that x~2, or x= 4. ’
Here it is evident that the negative root is useless :
hence we have y=.v42=4, and 24 for the number
required.
Ex. y.' It is required to find two numbers whose
product is 100; and the difference of their square
roots 3.
Let x be the one number; then — must denote the
x
other.
Now by the question —^ — ^/«=3 ;
Hence we have 10—x=^^/xz=.^x^,
Or x^-^x2 — io.
And comp, the sq. *43**4
and taking the root **4   *-1.
2 2’
So that **=43 or *z=r—2,
and therefore ^=23 or *=4.
If *=4, the other number is •1-|s=23, and if *=
23, then the other number is 4; so that, in either case,
the two numbers which answer the conditions of the
question are 4 and 23.
Ex. 8. It is required to find two numbers, of which
the product shall be 6, and the sum of their cubes 33.
Let v be the one number, then - will be the other.
x
Hence he would receive for them 0_ls)(I^ + a) Tilereforei by the x,+ ^=3;.
Therefore, extracting the root, &c. *=:
shillings. And, because 34!.= 1080 shillings, we have
by the question (*—15) 4 2) = io8o.
Which by proper reduction becomes ** 445'*—9000.
Or, completing the square, **445*4 ——^
4
195 45.
2 2 *
And taking the positive root, *=73, the number of
sheep; and consequently ^^=16 shillings the price
of each. ^
Ex. 6. What number is that, which, when divided
by the product of its two digits, the quotient is 3 ; and
if 18 be added to it, the digits are inverted. Let x
and y denote the digits ; then the number itself will be
expressed by 1 o*-\-y; and that number, in which the
digits are inverted, by ioy4** Thus the conditions
•f the problem will be expressed by these two equations,
io*4y n
-—^=3, 10*4^418=105/4*.
xy
Hence *^4216=33*3,
Or x6—35*3——216.
This equation, by putting becomes
y*—35y=—216;
Hence we find 3=127, or y=8.
And since *3=y y therefore *=3, or *=2.
If *=3, then the other number is 2, and if *=2?
the other number is 3 ; so that 2 and 3 are the numbers
required.
In general, if it be required to find two numbers,
which are exactly alike concerned in a question that
produces a quadratic equation; the two numbers sought
will be the roots of that equation. A similar observa¬
tion applies to any number of quantities which require
for the determination the resolution of an equation of
any degree whatever.
Sect. X. Of Equations in General.
160. Before we proceed to the resolution of cubic,' „
and the higher orders of equations, it will be proper
t<K.
ALGEBRA.
%2
Equations to explain Borne general properties, which belong to
m general, equations of every degree 5 and also certain operations,
" which must frequently be performed upon equations,
before they be fitted for a final solution.
161. In treating of equations in general, we shall
suppose all the terms transposed to one side, and put
equal to o j this we have already done in explaining
the nature of quadratics, and in like manner an equa¬
tion of the fourth degree will stand thus :
x4 -j-fx3+gx2 ~l~rx-j-szzo,
where x denotes an unknown quantity, and p, q, r, s,
known quantities, either positive or negative. In this
equation the coefficient of the highest power of x is
unity, but if it had been any other quantity, that
quantity might have been taken away, and the equa¬
tion reduced to the above form, by rules already ex¬
plained, Sect. VI.
162. The terms of an equation being thus arranged,
if such a quantity be found, as when substituted for a’,
will render both sides ~ o, and therefore satisfy the
equation, that quantity, whether it be positive or nega¬
tive or even imaginary, is to be considered as a root
of the equation. But we have seen that every qua¬
dratic equation has always two roots, real or imagina¬
ry, we may therefore suppose that a similar diversity of
roots will take place in all equations of a higher de¬
gree } and this supposition we shall presently find to be
well founded, by means of the following proposition,
which is of great importance in the theory of equa¬
tions.
If a root c-f any equation, as a;4-\-px3-\-qx-\-r—o, be
represented by a, the first side of that equation is divi¬
sible by x—a.
For since x4-\-px3-\-qxl Jf-rx-^-s—o,
And also u4-\-pa3-\-qa-\-ra-\-s-=o
Therefore, by subtraction, x*—a4-\-p {x3—
(a;*—a*) +7'(#—d)~o.
’163. But any quantity of this form «”—an, where
n denotes a whole positive number, is equal to
(a?—a)(A;"-t+aA;"-*-foV-3-l 
as may be easily proved by multiplication j therefore,
putting x—4, 3 and 2 successively, we have
x4—a*—(a?—ci) [x3-\-ax* -|-o*a; 4- a*)
x3—rtsrr (a;—a) (a;* -j-aAr -J-a*)
x*—a2z=(x—a) (a; -f-o)
x —a =(a;—a,
and by substitution, and collecting into one term the
coefficients of the like powers of x, the equation
x4—cfi-^-p^x*—a3)-\-q(x'l-—a*)-{-r{x—a)—o becomes
(a?—a)[«3-j-(a-j-j9)A;a-j- {a*-\-pa-\-q)xa3 -^pa'-^-qa
~l-r‘)=:o, so that putting p'=:a-{-p, q,zzai-{-pa-l-q, r'
we have
x4 -\-px3 -J- qx1 -f-ra-f- s—(x—d) {x3 -{-//a?* -\-q'x-\-r).
Hence, if the proposed equation x4-\-px3 -{-qit1 -\-rx—5
be divided by x—a, the quotient will be A?3-f-p/A;,-f-
q’x—r', an integer quantity, and since the same mode
of reasoning will apply to any equation whatever, the
truth of the proposition is evident.
164. We have found that (at—d) {x3 Jf p'x*q*x
4-7’') = 0, and as a product becomes — o, when any
one of its factors =0, therefore, the equation will have
its conditions fulfilled, not only when &•—arro, but v
also when a;8 -\-p'x* 4- q'x-^-r'—o. ge‘^
Let us now suppose that & is a root of this equation,
then by reasoning exactly as in last article, and putting
p"—b-{-p\ q"—b7,-\-p'b-\-q', we shall have
x3 ■lrp'x'1 -\-q'x-\-iJ— (a;—b) (x2 -\-p"x-{-q")~o,
and therefore
a;4 -\-px3 4- qx2 -f" rx 4- —d) (a;— b) (^4p"x -\~q"),
165. By proceeding in the same manner with the
quadratic equation x1 ■Jrp"x-\-q"—Oi we shall find that
if c denote one of its roots, then
AT* -\-p"x 4- q"— (x—c) {x-\-c +p").
So that if we put d——{c-\-p"), we at last find
x4 -\-px3 -{-qx2 -\-rx szz {x—a) (at—b) (a;—c) (a:—d) j
and since each of the factors a?—a, x—b, x—c, x—d
may be assumed =0, it follows, that there are four
different values of x, which will render the equation
x4+px3-^-qx2 -\-rx namely, x—a, x~b, x—c,
x~d.
166. The mode of reasoning which has been just
now employed in a particular case, may be applied to
an equation of any order whatever j we may therefore
conclude, that every equation may be considered as the
product of as many simple factors, as the number de¬
noting its order contains unity j and therefore, that the
number of roots in any equation is precisely equal to the
exponent of the highest power of the unknown quantity
contained in that equation.
167. By considering equations of all degrees as form¬
ed from the product of factors x—a, x—x—c, &c.
we discover a number of curious relations, which subsist
between the roots of any equation whatever, and its co¬
efficients. Thus, if we limit the number of factors to
four, and suppose that «, A, c, d, are the roots of this
equation of the fourth degree
a;4 4-iW34~ 4“ ^ + s—°>
we shall also have (a?—a) (a?—&) (a:—c) (x—d) =:0 ",
and therefore, by actual multiplication,
168. If we compare together the coefficients of the
same powers of x, we find the following series of equa¬
tions :
d 4" b -J— c 4* dzzz. 1 'P
db clc ^^cid —|— be bcl j- cf/— 4- q
abc abd-\-acd-\-bcd——r
abcd—-\-s ;
and as a similar series of equations will be obtained for
every equation whatever, we hence derive the follow¬
ing propositions, which are of the greatest importance
in the theory of equations.
1. The coefficient of the second term of any equa¬
tion taken with a contrary sign, is equal to the sum of
all the roots.
2. The coefficient of the third term is equal to the
sum of the products of the roots multiplied together twe
and two.
3. The coefficient of the fourth term, taken with a
contrary
ALOE
contrary sign, Is equal to the sum of the roots multi¬
plied together three and three, and so on for the re-
' maining coefficients, till we come to the last term of
the equation, which is equal to the product of all the
roots, having their signs changed.
169. Instead of supposing an equation to be produ¬
ced by multiplying together simple equations, we may
consider it as formed by the product of equations of
any degree, provided that the sum of their dimensions
is equal to that of the proposed equation. Thus, an
equation of the fourth degree may be formed either
from a simple and cubic equation, or from two quadra¬
tic equations.
170. If n denote the degree of an equation, we have
shewn, that by considering it as the product of simple
factors, that equation will have n divisors of the first
degree 5 but if we suppose the simple factors to be com¬
bined two and two, they will form quantities of the se¬
cond degree, which are also factors of the equation j
and since there may be formed —- 1 ] such combina-
B R A.
*75* 1° general, if the roots of an equation be all
real, that equation will have as many positive roots as
there are changes of the signs from -f- to —, or from
■ to -J- ; and the remaining roots are negative. This
rue, however, does not apply when the equation has
imaginary roots, unless such roots be considered as ei¬
ther positive or negative.
176. That the rule is true when applied to quadratic
equations will be evident from Sect. IX. With respect
to cubic equations, the rule also applies when the roots
are either all positive, or all negative, as we have just
now shewn.
When a cubic equation has one positive root, and
the other two negatives, its factors will be a—a, x+b
Ar-f-e, and the equation itself
63.
■Equations
in oeiieraL
1
' > .r—abc—o.
J
x3—cT —ab‘
x*—ac
-f-O -t-bc,
, Here there must always be one change of the signs,
. since the first term is positive, and the last negative j
tions, any equation will admit of divisors of * •616 Ca” no nlore t^ian one > *or ^ the second
T ° term 18 negative, or b+c less than a, then (6-f c)* will
be less than (6-j-c)a; but (£-j-c)2 is always greater
than be, therefore be will be much less than
or ab-^-ac, so that the third term must also be negative,
and therefore in this case only one change of the signs.
If again the second term be positive, then because the
sign of the last term is negative, whatever be the sign
ol the third term, there can still be no more than one
change of the signs.
When the equation has two positive roots and one
negative, its factors are x—a, x—b, x—c, and the equa¬
tion
i. 2
i. 2
the second degree.
171. For example, the equation xt+px^+qx'+rx
+s=:o, which we have considered as equal to
(x—a) (x—b) (x—c) (x—d)=0,
may be formed of the product of two factors of the se¬
cond degree, in these six different ways.
By the product of (*—a)(,v-—6) and (x—c)(x—d)
an equation
-~6 quadratic divisors.
(x—a) (x—c)
(x—a)(x—d)
(x—b)(x—c)
(x—b)(x—d)
(x—-c ) (x—d)
of the fourth
(x—b)(x—d)
—b)(x—c)
(a;—a)(x—d)
(a?—a) (a?—c)
(at—a) (a;—b)
degree may have
Thus
4X3,
1X2'
172. By combining the simple factors three and
three, we shall have divisors of the third degree, of
■which the number for an equation of the nth order will
n(n—1) (n—2)
x3—a~l
—b t- xz—1
+ CJ —
-i-ab"!
—ac > x-l-abc—o.
■be)
be
and so on.
I* 2 • 3
. I73’ When the roots of an equation are all positive,
its simple factors will have this form x—a, x—b, x c,
&c. and if for the sake of brevity we take only these
three, the cubic equation which results from their pro¬
duct will have this form,
x*—px2 qx—r~o,
where p’zza-^-b-^c, q~ab-^~ac-^-bc, r~qbc,
and here it appears that the signs of the terms are 4-
and — alternately.
Hence we infer, that when the roots of an equation
are all positive, the signs of its terms are positive and
negative alternately.
. I74* If again the roots of the equation be all nega¬
tive, and therefore its factors x-\-a, x-\-b, x+c, then
Pt q, and r being as before, the resulting equation will
stand thus : 5 ^
3-f-rzro.
■A nd hence we conclude, that when the roots are all
negative, there is no change whatever in the signs.
Vol. I. Part II.
f
Here there must always be two changes of the signs,
for if a-\-b be greater than c, the second term is nega¬
tive, and the last term being always positive, there
must be two changes, whether the sign of the third
term be positive or negative. If again a + b be less
than c, and therefore the second term positive; it may
be shewn as before, that ab is much less than ac-\-bc;
and hence the third term will be negative ; so that in
either, case there must be two changes of the signs.
We may conclude, therefore, upon the whole, that in
cubic equations there are always as many positive roots,
as changes of the signs from -f to —, or from — to
and by the same method of reasoning, the rule will be
found to extend to all equations whatever.
I77* H appears from the manner in which the co¬
efficients of an equation, are formed from its roots, that
when the roots are all real, the coefficients must con¬
sist entirely of real quantities. But it does not follow,
on the contrary, that when the coefficients are real, the
roots are also real; for we have already found, that in
a quadratic equation, x2 -^-px-^-qxxo, where jo and ^de¬
note real quantities, the roots are sometimes both ima¬
ginary.
178. When the roots of a quadratic equation are
imaginary, they have always this form, x+J-K a-
sf—b*, which quantities may also be expressed thus,
41* a+b
634 __ A L G E
Equations a-\-bV i, d—b^—I,so that we have these two factors
in general. ^^^\/~i,x——i,and taking their product,
x1—2ax -j-a*—b'—O.
Thus we see that two imaginary factors may be of
such a form as to admit of their product being express¬
ed by a real quantity; and hence the origin of imaginary
roots in quadratic equations.
179. It appears by induction, that no real equation
can be formed from imaginary factors, unless those
factors be taken in pairs, and each pair have the form.
■v—v-n l,\J j, x^=.a-\-b\/—1; for the product of
three, or any odd number of imaginary factors, what¬
ever be their form, is still an imaginary quantity. Thus,
if we take the product of any three of these four ima¬
ginary expressions, x-JcCi-\-b\/ — 1, x -J-^ — b‘'Z — 1,
x + c+d^—i, x-\-c—cW—1, we may form four dif-
•ferent equations, each of which will involve imaginary
quantities. If, however, each equation be multiplied by
the remaining factor, which had not previously entered
into its composition, the product will be found to be ra¬
tional, and the same for all the four.
180. Hence we may deduce the three following in¬
ferences respecting the roots of equations :
1. If an equation have imaginary roots, it must have
two, or four, or some even number of such roots.
2. If the degree of an equation be denoted by an
odd number, that equation must have at least one real
root.
3. If the degree of an equation be denoted by an
even number, and that equation have one real root, it
will also have another real root.
181. We shall now explain some transformations
which are frequently necessary to prepare the higher
orders of equations for a solution.
Any equation may have its positive roots changed
into negative roots of the same value, and its negative
roots into such as are positive, by changing the signs of
the terms alternately, beginning with the second. The
truth of this remark will be evident, if we take two
equations,
(a?—«)(«—^)(a?-|-c)=o,
(ar + a) (# -}- &) (ar—c)—o,
(which are such, that the positive roots of the one have
the same values as the negative roots of the other), and
multiply together their respective factors, for these equa¬
tions will stand thus :
a?3—a~\ -\-ab~i
—b> x*—ac>x-\-abc~o
-f—c j —be j
x3-\-a~l
-j-6 V x2—nc —abc—o
—o —bc\
where it appears that the signs of the first and third
terms are the same in each, but the signs of the second
and fourth ai'e just the opposite of each other. And
this will be found to hold true, not only of cubic equa¬
tions, but of all equations, to whatever order they be¬
long.
182. It will sometimes be useful to transform an
equation into another, that shall have each of its roots
greater or less than the corresponding roots of the other
equation, by some given quantity.
2
BRA.
Let (x—be any proposed equa¬
tion which is to be transformed into another, having its
roots greater or less than those of the proposed equa¬
tion by the given quantity n; then, because the roots
of the transformed equation are to be -f-ar±r«, -\.bz±zn
and —cr+zre, the equation itself will be
(yr+r/x—a) (yrprtt—b) ( y-=fzn-\-c)z=:o.
Hence the reason of the following rule is evident.
If the new equation is to have its roots greater than
those of the proposed equation, instead of x and its
powers, substitute y—n and its powers ; but if the roots
are to be less, then instead of x substitute > an^ in
either case, a new equation will be produced, the roots
of which shall have the property required.
183. By means of the preceding rule, an equation
may be changed into another, which has its roots either
all positive, or all negative ; but it is chiefly used in pre¬
paring cubic and biquadratic equations for a solution,
by transforming them into others of the same degrees,
but which want their second term.
Let A3-f-/w*-{-<p-l-r:=o be any cubic equation;^!
we substitute y-\-n for the equation is changed into
the following:
7J%+3n\ ?/* +3n*l +n3 )
+ PS J +2Pn \y+Pn' l —o
+ ? J +qn \
+ r J
Now, that this equation may want its second term, it
is evident, that we have only to suppose ^n-^-pz^o, or
n———, for this assumption being made, and the value
3 . .
of n substituted in the remaining terms, the equation be¬
comes
p*
2ps pq
— --4-rrr r', the
3
or putting j- q~qf, and -J-
3 27
same equation may also stand thus,
y}-\-q'y-\-r,—o.
184. In general, any equation whatever may be trans¬
formed into another, which shall want its second term
by the following rule.
Divide the coefficient of the second term of the pro¬
posed equation by the exponent of the first term, and
add the quotient, with its sign changed, to a new un¬
known quantity ; the sum being substituted for the un¬
known quantity in the proposed equation, a new equa¬
tion will be produced, which will want the second term,
as required. „
185. By this rule, any adfected quadratic equation
may be readily resolved ; for by transforming it into
another equation, which wants the second term, we thus
reduce its solution to that of a pure quadratic. Thus
if the quadratic equation x*—-$x-\-6=zo be proposed ;
by substituting y+4 for x} we find
y'+sy+Vl
—sy+V Y =°>or 3/2—1=°-
+ 63
Hencey= and since A=y+4, therefore#-:
+ 4= + 3or+2* . . . ,
186. It has been shewn (§ 169.) that m any equa¬
tion, the coefficient of the second term having its sign
changed, is equal to the sum of all the roots, or ab¬
stracting
Equation |
hi gener.
A L G E
;ubic stracting from their signs, it is equal to the difference be-
uations. tween the sum of the positive, and the sum of the nega-
•V—^ tive roots. Therefore, if the second term be wanting,
the sum of the positive roots in the equation must neces¬
sarily be equal to that of the negative roots.
187. Instead of taking away the second term from an
equation, any other term may be made to vanish, by an
assumption similar to that which has been employed to
take away the second term. Thus if in § 183. we as¬
sume 277/2-(-<7—0, by resolving this quadratic equa¬
tion, a value of n will be found, which, when substitut¬
ed in the equation, will cause the third term to vanish j
and by the resolution of a cubic equation the third term
might be taken away; and so on.
188. Another species of transformation, of use in the
resolution of equations, is that bv which an equation,
having the coefficients of some of its terms expressed by
fractional quantities, is changed into another, the coef-
ficients of which are all integers.
Let -f-- .v*-fA o denote an equation to
be so transformed j and let us assume yzzabcx; and
therefore xzz > then, by substitution, our equation
becomes ✓
P
tA
q r
a363c3 ' a}b*c*
and multiplying the whole equation by a3b3c3, we have
y3 -f- bcpy2 (Pbc'qy -f- cPb^^r—Q.
Thus we have an equation free from fractions, while
at the same time the coefficient of the highest power of
the unknown quantity is unity, as before.
189. This transformation may always be performed
by the following rule. Instead of the'unknown quan¬
tity substitute a new unknown quantity divided by the
product of all the denominators 5 then, by proper re¬
duction, the equation will be found to have the form
required.
190. If, however, the equation have this form,
r =0
a 1 a ' a
it will be sufficient to assume y=a.r, and therefore x=z
y
~i for then we have
a3 ^ a3^ ^ a2 ^ ' a ^
And y3 +py*-\-aqy+oV= o,
■which last equation has the form required.
Sect. XI. Of Cubic Equations,
191. Cubic equations, as well as equations of every
higher degree, are, like quadratics, divided into two
classes; they are said to he pure, when they contain on¬
ly one power of the unknown quantity ; and adjected,
when they contain two or more powers of that quantity.
192. Pure cubic equations are therefore of this form*
*3=:i25, °r &3=—27, or, in general, x3=r; and
hence it appears, that the value of the simple power of
t».lUn^:nown quantity may always be found, without
difficulty, by extracting the cube root of each side of
bra.
the equation ; thus from the first of the three preceding Cubir
examples ive find tfzr + j, from the second x=—3, and Equations.
from the third*— VT. ‘ *  
*93* It would seem at first sight, that the only value
w nch x can have in the cubic equation x3z=r, or put-
tmg / c3, x3 c3~d, is this one, x~c; btxt since
* ~~ct may Ije resolved into these two factors *—e
and *s-f c*-f c2, it follows, that besides the value of r
already found, which results from making the factor
£ C7~°’ 3t yet other two values, which may be
lound by making the other factor x2-\-cx -X-ct—Q
and accordingly by resolving the quadratic equation
x2-{-cx——c2, we find these values to be 3 t;2
and
2 2 2
and
Thus it appears, that any cubic equation of this form,
x —A °r x3—c3~o, has these three roots,
*=c, *- ~~i+n/—3c? ——I--v/—T
the first of which is real, but the two last are Jmagi-
nary.. If, however, each of the imaginary values of*
be raised to the third power, the same results will be
obtained as from the real value of*,* the original equa¬
tion x3 c3—o may also be reproduced, by multiply-
ing together the three factors *—c, x —1 -3 -
  2
and *—T"1 ^ 3C>
2
194. Let us now consider such cubic equations as
have all their terms, and which are therefore of this
form,
*3-{-A#*-{-B*-f-eii 0,
where A, B, and C denote known quantities, either po¬
sitive or negative.
It has been shewn (§ 184.) how an equation having
all its terms may be transformed into another, which
wants the second term; let us therefore assume
A . .
^ , as directed m that article ; then, by proper substi¬
tution, the above equation will be changed into another
of this form,
!/*+W+r=o,
where q and r denote known quantities, whether posi¬
tive or negative ; now the roots of this equation being
once found, it is evident that those of the former may
also be readily obtained by means of the assumed equa¬
tion x—y .
3.
193. Resuming, therefore, the equation y&J^.qyJ^,
r~o, let us suppose yzzvJ^os, and it becomes
t>3-f 31;2*-f-3 tt-z*-f s3 T
^qvf-qx > =0.
+r $
Thus we have got a new equation, which, as it in¬
volves two unknown quantities, v and z, may be re¬
solved into any two other equations, which will simplify
the determination of those quantities.
Now it appears, that the only way in which we can
4 ^ divide
636
Cubic
Equations.
A L G
divide that equation into two others, so as to simplify
the question, is the following
3 c* z-f-3 +S'y+S'25 =: 0
The first of these equations may also be expressed
thus,
( 3 uz+4" ^ ^ ^
Hence we must either suppose that or that
oj but the former supposition cannot be ad¬
mitted, without supposing also that y=0, which does
not agree with the hypothesis of the equation y3-{-(/y
4-;=o } therefore we must adopt the latter. So that
.to determine v and z we have these two equations,
3vz-\-q=o, ,y3-|-!234'r:—0*
9
From the first, we find vz=z— -, and v**3—— — ,
3 27.
and from the second u3 + z3=—r, so that to deter¬
mine the quantities v3 and %3, we have given their sum,
and product: now this is a problem which we have
already resolved when treating of quadratic equations,
^ 135 •, and by proceeding in the same manner, in the
present case we shall find
4- V A?’ +V1 *3 = — — x/tt? 5
v=J—ir+ xAV/3 +ir2*=»J—ir—K/ ^\q3+JFX
5 ■   
and y~v\r4-s/3 4" ir%
+s/—ir—\/ A?3 +4^
E B R A.
Hence the three values of y are also these,
3 3 _
y— \/a4- \/b
3 _ 3 _
y—«v/a4-.^ Vb
3 _ 3
y=/S^A-l-cti/B.
The first of these formulae is commonly known by
the name of Cardan’s rule $ but it is well known that
Cardan was not the inventor, and that it ought to be
attributed to Nicholas Tartalea, and Scipio Ferreus,
who discovered it much about the same time, and in*
dependently of each other (see the Introduction,')
F-quatioi
197. The formulae given in last article for the roots
of a cubic equation may be put under a different form,
and perhaps better adapted to the purposes of arith¬
metical calculation as follows. Because vzzz—~,
3
therefore z—— - X -=— - X v - /=> hence a/a
3 v 3 Va
•—-j—thus it appears that the three values of y
may also be expressed thus,
}/= v/A-
3 
y-B-sJ a—
j±_
3V/A
fft3
Va
Ml
3v/a
Thus we have at last obtained a value of the un¬
known quantity y, in terms of the known quantities q
and r ; therefore the equation is resolved.
196. But this is only one of three values which y
may have j let us, for the sake of brevity, put
A=—ir+V4- 4r% B=—
and denote the imaginary expressions
——1—x/^
2 ’ 2
by a and /3. Then, from what has been shewn
(§ I93)» evident that v and z have each these
three values,
3 _ 1 _ 3 _
vz=a/a, vzzct^A, v—p^/A,
3 _ 3 _ 3 _
z=tt\/\i, zrr/VB.
To determine the corresponding values of v and z,
we must consider that v%z=—< -=\/ab; now ifweob-
. . 3
serve that «/3=i, it will immediately appear that ^4-z
has these three values,
3 _ 3
v-\-z— \/a4~
v-{-z=:cc \/A+fi\/B
3 3_
■y 4“^—\^A 4"
198. To show the manner of applying these formulae,
let it be required to determine x from the cubic equa¬
tion
*3 4-3** 4-9*—13=0*
And as this equation has all its terms, the first step to¬
wards its resolution is to transform it into another which
shall want the second term, by substituting y—1 for x
as directed (§ 184). The operation will stand thus,
k3^3—3y24-3y— 1
4-3*a= 4-33'2—3
4-9* = 4-93'— 9
—*3 = —13
The transformed equation is yJ 4'^3'—2orro
which being compared with the general equation
3'3 4-23'4-^=0
gives y=6, r~—20 $ hence
3 .     3   
k.~sj—i;-4- \V-T?34-4r2=xA0+ V'ioB
Therefore, the first formula of last article gives yss
x/io-f-V'ioS—i/ - ; but as this expression
V 104- V108
involves a radical quantity, let the square root of l©8
be taken and added to 10, and the cube root of the sum
found 5 thus we have "Jlo-f-V^ 108=1.732, nearly,
and
3.
2
2
A L G
Idbi
ationi. and therefore 3 / ===r- —.*122’. hence we
^ . V10+V108 2.732
at last find one of the values of y to be 2.73 2 .7 3 2= 2.
In finding the cube root of the radical quantity
JiO+Vi 08 we have taken only its approximate va¬
lue, so as to have the expression for the root under a
rational form, and in this way we can always find, as
near as we please, the cube root of any surd of the
form where 6 is a positive number. But it will
sometimes happen that the cube root of such a surd can
be expressed exactly by another surd of the same forai;
and accordingly, in the present case, it appears that the
cube root of 10 +V 108 is _i+n/3, as may be proved
by actually raising 1 to ^ third power. Hence
r , 2  2 2C1—v'cO
we find 3 /—-r~— ~ —zr   — 
Vl°+Vio8 1 + V3 (1—V/3)(i-f'V/3)
=_(i_v/3); so that we have y=i-f'N/3 + i—V3
=:2, as before.
The other two values of y will be had by substituting
14- and 1— for v'A and in the second
Va
and third formulae of last article, also restoring the va¬
lues of a and /3. We thus have
y=—~—- x (14-^3)+—■ ^ 3 x (i—v'3)
= i-- + ^/=9
X X (I~^)
So that the three values of y are
+2, —.1—v/J,
and since A?=ry-j-i, the corresponding values of x are
+ h —24- ^—9, —2^—
Thus it appears that one of the roots, of the proposed
equation is real and the other two imaginary.
The two imaginary roots might have been found
otherwise, by considering that since one root of the
equation is 1, the equation must be divisible by x—l
(§ i63-)* Accordingly the division being actually per¬
formed, and the quotient put ~o, we have this quadra¬
tic equation,
13:1:0 }
which, when resolved by the rule for quadratics, gives
**=—2=t:/y/9, the same imaginary value as before.
199. In the application of the preceding formulae
(§ 196 and 197) to the resolution of the equation y*-f-
yy-\-r—o, it is necessary to find the square root of
^Ar?4*f’4r*, now when that quantity is positive, as in
the equation yJ-j~6y—20=0, which was resolved in
last article, no difficulty occurs, for its root may be
found, either exactly, or to as great a degree of accu¬
racy as we please.
As, however, the coefficients q and r are indepen¬
dent of each other, it it is evident that q may be nega®
E B R A.
637
tive, and such that is greater than in this case Cubi«
tie expression iV?3 “h ~4r 1 will be negative, and there- Equations,
oie its square root an imaginary quantity. Let us
taK.e as an example this equation y3—6y4-4 = o;
T* (J7~6: r== —’ ^-^JeVz3=-8, i^=+4,
V—:-s/—4—'2'\/—r) hence by recurring
to the formulae 196.), we have A~2-^-2/^/—1,
^*/ T> and therefore the three roots of the
equation expressed thus,
y= sj 2-f 2^—1 4, 4/2—2 v/—1
3.   3 
y=«v 24-2^ —14-/34/2—2
y=p\/ 2 4-2 V^——1-|-«i£\/ 2—.2'V/—-T.
Here all the roots appear under an imaginary form -
but we are certain from the theory of equations, as
explained in Sect. X. that every cubic equation must
have at least one real root. The truth is, as we shall
shew immediately, that in this case, so far from any of
the roots being imaginary (as in the former example),
they are all real; for it appears by actual involution
that the imaginary expression 24*2V/-^i is the cube
of this other imaginary expression —14. \/ I} an(j
in like manner, that 2—2V,—1 is the cube of  1
so that we have
y—\/_2-\-2V 14-4/ 2—2 V 1 = 1 4- \/ 
I — V—1 = 2
,==^=ix(_I+V=7)+zii^E3 x
V—I = l) 4V3
y=—‘-^-3 x +V/—,) +~1.+yT-3 X
(— x __ ) = ! _ a/J.
200. We now proceed to prove in general, that as
often as the roots of the equation A?34-<7tf4-r::::0 are
real, q is negative, and ^q* greater than fr*; and, on
the contrary, that if ^qs be greater than -Jr3 the roots
are all real.
Let us suppose o to be a real root of the proposed
eqviatiop,
Then x*-\-qx+r=o
And aJ4-g'«-f-^=:0*
And therefore by subtraction x3—.#**4,q(-x—o)r= 0 j
hence, dividing x3—a3, also q(x—a) by x—ay we have
x'-^-ax-Jf-a'-^-q-^o.
This quadratic equation is formed from the two re¬
maining roots of the proposed equation, and by resolv¬
ing it we find
*=—feet:*/—4 a 2 —7.
And as, by hypothesis, all the roots are real, it is
evident that q must necessarily be negative, and greats
er than j for otherwise the expression —^a^—q
would be imaginary. Let us change the sign of <7, and
put
638 A L G
Cubic qzzla'1-\-d; thus the roots of the equation x^-^-qx
Equation?. ^-r=Q will be
o, — ^ ®~\~*>/dy ~~ ^ a s/l’y
And here t? is a positive quantity.
To find an expression for r in terms of a and </, let
\a^-\-d be substituted for q in the equation o3—qa+r
—o} we thence find r=r—^cd-\-ad; so that to com¬
pare together the quantities q and r we have these equa¬
tions,
q=la*-\-d
r~ —^a*-\-ad.
In order to make this comparison, let the cube of ^q
be taken, also the square of the results are
i:/’t=:A0<““4a4^+io2^2 ?
and therefore by subtraction,
-2 t!Z —q7
-r-cdd-
-Tr
-|-T*T«/3
—S^CtV^—A d-^-^-gd*)
=3^0*—W-
Now the square of any real quantity being always posi¬
tive, it follows, that fie positive when
r/ is positive $ hence it is evident that in this case
must be greater than ; and that the contrary can¬
not be true unless d be negative, that is, unless that
d,—£0—s/d, the two other roots of the
equation, are imaginary. If we suppose d—O, then A
; and the roots of the equations, which in this
case are also real, are a, i«, —
Upon the whole, therefore, we infer, that since a cu¬
bic equation has always one real root, its roots will be
all real as often as q is negative, and A?3 greater than
fr2 j and consequently, that in this case the formulae for
the roots must express real quantities notwithstanding
their imaginary form.
201. Let y3—q?/-\-rzzo denote any equation of the
form which has been considered in last article, namely,
that which has its roots all real; then, if we put a=z—
hi—^irq'i—one of the roots, as expressed by the
first formula, § 196. will be,
3   -s  
y—sj a-\-bV —i -f-y^/a—^ ^—1.
This expression, although under an imaginary form,
must (as we have shewn in last article) represent a real
quantity. It will sometimes happen, as in last example,
§ 199. that the two surds which compose the root are
perfect cubes of the form —i)J and (A—B
a3:>d then the value of y becomes
A-f-B^/—1 -f-A—B^y/—i=2A.
But the rules for determining when this is the case de¬
pend upon trials, and are, besides, troublesome in the
application ; and if we attempt by a direct process to
investigate the numerical values of A and B, we are
brought to a cubic equation of the very same form as
that whose root is required.
202. This imaginary expression for a real quantity
has greatly perplexed mathematicians j and much pains
has been taken to obtain the root under another form,
but without success. Accordingly, the case of cubic
equations, in which the roots are all real, is now called
the irreducible case.
E B R A.
203. It is remarkable that the expression
o —j— b vk j, \/ a— • b v ■—1,
and in general,
n _ n 
a-\-b \/ —1, \/a—bV—x,
where n is any power of 2, admits of being reduced to
another form in which no impossible quantity is found.
Thus 'Ja+bV—l + ^a—b\/—1 = ^2g+2 Va2-f£*
s/a+bV—i+V a—bV — irr
fj2tf + 2\/az-}-£2-}-2\/al-f-6*
as is easily proved by first squaring the imaginary for¬
mulae, and then taking the square root of each. But
when n is 3, it does not seem that such reduction cart
possibly take place.
204. If each of the surds be expanded into an infinite
series and their sum be taken, the imaginary quantity
^/ITi will vanish ; and thus the root may be found by
a direct process. There are, however, other methods
which seem preferable ; and the following, which is de¬
rived from the application of algebra to geometry, seems
to be the best.
205. It will be demonstrated in Sect. XXV. that if
a denote an arch of a circle, the relation between the co¬
sine of the arch and the cosine of -, one third of that
. 3 .
arch, is expressed by the following cubic equation.
n 1 a 1 a t '
Cos.3 4 cos. - =4 cos. a.
3 3
a y * *
Let us assume cos. - = then, by substitution, the
3 n
equation is transformed into the following :
Cubic
. Equal,,
y^_3y__
4«
cos. a.
Or y3  £__y—X 4 COS. a,
and in this cubic equation one of the roots is evidently
vzzn X cos. -. Now from the arithmetic of sines it ap-
3
pears that cos. o, cos. (360°—c), and cos. (36o°+«),
are all expressed by the same quantity $ therefore the
a
equation must have for a root not only n X cos. but
. 160 -i-d -ry
also ft X cos.   and n X cos. . But
3 3
360°—-a
from the arithmetic of sines, cos.    — — sin.
22!=? and cos. 3<>2j±?__ gin. SSl±2. Therefore
3 3 3
the roots of the equation are
go0—o . 900-M
3
Let us next suppose that y'—qyzzr is a cubic equa¬
tion
11X cos. —n X sin
3 3
A L G E B
ubic tieii whose roots are required, and let us compare it
£ ations. • , i
— with the tormer equation w3   ?/—«3 X cos. Ja,-
4 4
then it is evident that if we assume the quantities n and
cos. o, such, that
3 n1 ,
—^——([■, tr x cos. Jorrr,
the two equations will become identical, and thus their
roots will be expressed by the very same quantities. But
from these two assumed equations we find
2\^q /27 5
—=—7=, cos. <7=—== v -~r=:—7=
3 v 3 ^3 4?3 2qy/q*
and since the cosine of an arch cannot exceed unity,
27 7'*
therefore, ----- must be a proper fraction, that is, 4y3
must exceed 27?'*, or -/-fy3 must exceed £r* 5 if we now
recollect that ^ is a negative quantity, it will immedi¬
ately appear that the proposed equation must necessarily
belong to the irreducible case.
206. The rule, therefore, which we derive from the
preceding analysis for resolving that case is as follows.
Let y*—qy—r be the proposed equation.
Find in the trigonometrical tables an arch a, whose na-
. ar va
tural cosine -zz-—
2qV q’
The roots of the equation are
R
f
A.
x~ 2 COS,
6o°
2 COS. 20C
Hence <{ x~-
i
-2 sin.
i-S793852
——2sin.500=r—1.5320888
—2sm.
3
3
30°
— — 2 sin. io°=:.3472964, .
Biquadras-
tie Equa^
lions.
^ 3
Ex. 2. It is required to find the roots of the equation
x3—3#—1. u
3 r ^3 3 ^3
6x^3 2 S3H* 3°
Here
rsin. a.
x — 2 sin.
x z= 2 cos.
3°
3
I 20*
■ = 2 sin. io° —
X——2 C0S.-
3
6o°
■ =r 2 cos. 40° rr
—2C0S.2O°~ —
.3472964
1.53208S8
1.8793852
57=2a/|x
3
tz=—2*y?-
a
cos.-
3
X sin
90—a
3
90°-}-a
3 3 , iv/x ^ —.I.uj 1 ^ 1 and
These formulae will apply, whether r he positive or *2+£3= (a?—, a /—a jj •.
negative, by uroper attention to the sums: Tf bnw.   ^ 7,v
Sect. XII. Of Biquadratic Equations.
207. When a biquadratic equation contains all its
terms, it has this form,
**+A*3-FBtf3-fC*-f D=:o,
where A, B, C, D, denote any known quantities what*
ever.
208. We shall first consider pure biquadratics, or
such as contain only the first and last terms, and there¬
fore are of this form, x3=.b*. In this case it is evi¬
dent that x may be readily had by two extractions of
the square root; by the first we find x*=zbl, and by
the second xzzb. This, however, is only one of the
values which x may have $ for since x*=.b*y therep
fore x*—-b*=o $ but x4—b4 may be resolved into two
factors x*—b* and each of which admit of a
similar resolution 5 for x*—b2=(x—and
negative, by proper attention to the signs : If, how¬
ever, r be negative, or the equation have this form,
Vi—EJ——^ie following will be more convenient:
Find in the tables an arch o, whose sine n:
2q v q
Then the roots of the equation are
fq . a
7J=2* 3 Xsin’3
jq 00^ a
y—:2V ~ Xcos.2—J—
,=-J
Xcos.
3
90°—a
3 3
The last formulae are derived from the equation
pears that the equation x4—b*—o may also be expressed
thus:
(*■—£) (* + £) —b+f— 1) (a? -\-by/ — 1)—o,
so that x may have these four values,
-\-b, —b, -\-b*y—I, —bsj—x,
two of which are real and the others imaginary.
209. Next to pure biquadratic equations, in respect
of easiness of resolution, are such as want the second
and fourth terms, and therefore have this form,
These may be resolved in the manner of quadratic equa¬
tions j for if we put f—x1 we have
y'+qy+s=zo.
3 . a
sin. -“—sin. a
3(i
Sin. —
343
in the same manner as the former were found from the
first equation of last article.
Ex. 1. It is required to find the roots of the equation
*3 3A?~I.
TW3rV3_3X*/3 .
Aere 7=—  7^~4=cqs. 6o =:cos. a.
2qVq 6 x V3
from which we find y:
2 J
and therefore
V a*—
•45
210. When a biquadratic equation has all its terms,
the manner of resolving it is not so obvious as in the tw»
former cases, but its resolution may be always reduced
to that of a cubic equation. There are various methods
by which such a reduction may be effected j the follow¬
ing, which we select as one of the most ingenious, was
first given by Euler in the Petersburg Commentaries,
640
algebra.
Biquadra- and afterwards explained more fully in his Elements of
tic Equa- Algebra. .
tions. \ye have already explained, § 184, in what manner
““—v ' an equation which is complete in its terms may be
transformed into another equation of the same degree,
hut which wants the second term ; therefore, any pro¬
posed biquadratic equation may be reduced to this form,
y* -\-P7/ "r 97/ Jr r — 0,
where the second term is wanting, and where p, r,
denote any known quantities whatever.
211. That we may form any equation^similar to the
above, let us assume \/a-\- 'sf b-\- c, and let us
also suppose that the letters c, &, c, denote the roots of
the cubic equation
—R=:o 5
then from the theory of equations we have
a+b^-czz.—P, fl£-j-ac+6c=Qa&c=R.
Let us now square the assumed formula
y—'l/a-\- and we obtain
2(^06-j-'v/ ac-\-V~bc')
or substituting — P for o -j- 6 + c, and transposing
be').
Let this equation be also squared, and we have
^+2*y+p*=4(>£+ ac-\-bc)-\-^> ( v/a?bc + Vab*c
+ V a be*), and since ab-\-ac-\-bc=:Q
and abzc-\-\^abc* — **/a6c(v^c-|-V^c)
=r\/Ry ; the same equation may be expressed thus :
f+2.P5/*+ps=4Q+8 \fey-
Thus we have obtained the biquadratic equation
/-f 2P3/2—8 VRy + P*—4Q=o,
one of the roots of which a-\-\/b-\-^ct and in
which c, b, c, are the roots of the cubic equation
^-fPz’-f-Qs;—R=o.
212. That we may apply this resolution to the pro¬
posed equation y*-\-pyt^-qy-Jr-r—o, we must express
the assumed coefficients P, Q, R by means of p, q, r
the coefficients of that equation. For this purpose let
us compare together the equations
16
\/a, Vb, Vc, must be equal to \/R or to —•
therefore when q is positive, their product must be a , ^ons-
negative quantity ; and this can only be effected by J
making either one or three of them negative 5 again,
when q is negative, their product must be a positive
quantity j so "that in this case they must either be all
positive, or two of them must be negative. These con¬
siderations enable us to determine, that four of the
eight expressions for the root belong to the. case in
which q is positive, and the other four to that in which
it is negative.
214. We shall now give the result of the preceding
investigation, in the form of a practical rule for re¬
solving biquadratic equations j and as the coefficients
of the cubic equation which has been found, § 212,
involve fractions, we shall transform it into another,
in which the coefficients are integers, by supposing
v . P . P*—Ar
Thus the equation  77 »—
4 2x0
-^-—0 becomes, after reduction, t;3-J-2pt;2-J-(p2—4r)t;
64
 qz—o *, it also follows, that since the .roots of the
former equation are a, b7 c, the roots of the latter are
f ^ ^ so that our rule may now be expressed thus :
4 4 4 . .
Let be any biquadratic equa¬
tion wanting its second term. Form this cubic equa¬
tion
v*-\-2pvx-\- (p*—4O v—q'—O,
and find its roots, which let us denote by a, b, c.
Then the roots of the proposed biquadratic equation
when q is negative,
y=4(\/a-|- V/6-j-V/c)
a— \/b— V^c) _
y=i(—V a-]- b—*/ c)
!/= I (— \/a— Vb + Vc)
when q is positive,
y—!t(—V a—V b—a/ c)
y=-§(—Va-f- VbJf'Jc)
y—\{ s' a— 1/ b -\-V c)
y—\{sjo-J- b—Vc).
f+py'+yy+r—o
y*+2P^*—8 -v/fty+P*—4Q=o,
and it immediately appears that 2P=j3, —8v'R=5',
P2—4Q=r ; and from these three equations wre find
R— Q=-—, R=rA. Hence it follows, that
2 10 64
the roots of the proposed equation are generally ex¬
pressed by the formula y— a^-s' b-^-^ c j where
(if bf Cf denote the roots of this cubic equation
3 1 P * . P%—4r 9*
523+-S*+ T-X— 7- = 0.
64
215. This resolution of biquadratic equations sug¬
gests the following general remarks upon the nature of
their roots.
I. It is evident from the form of the roots, that if
the cubic equation
+ ipv*1 -|- (p* —4r)v—q*=zO
213* each particular root, we must con¬
sider, that as the square root of a number may be
either positive or negative, so each of the qdatltities,
s'a, sTbf s' Cf may have either the sign -f- or pre¬
fixed to it; and hence our formula will give eight dif¬
ferent expressions for the root. It is, however, to be
observed, that as the product of the three quantities
have all its roots real, and positive, those of the biqua¬
dratic equation shall be all real.
2. Since the last term of the cubic equation is nega¬
tive, when its three roots are real, they must either be
all positive, or two of them must be negative and one
positive; for the last term is equal to the product of
all the roots taken with contrary signs, § 169 j so that
in this last case two of the three quantities a, bf c, must
be negative, and therefore all the four roots of the bi¬
quadratic equation imaginary. If, however, the two
negative roots be equal, they will destroy each other
in two of the roots of the biquadratic equation, which
will then become real and equal. Let us suppose for
example that b and c are negative and equal 5 the two
first values of y in each column bbcorae then imagi¬
nary,
1
Biquadra'
tic .Equa¬
tions.
A L G
nary, and tlie remaining values of y are in the first set
of roots rj-=z—\*Ja, and in the second
y=\\fa.
3. When the cubic equation has only one real and
two imaginary roots, its real x’oots must necessarily be
positive, lor the imaginary roots can only come from
a quadratic equation, having its last term positive,
Sect. IX. and therefore of this form, o,
hence, the simple factor which contains the remaining
root must have this form v—y, otherwise the last term
ol the cubic equation could not be negative.
By resolving the equation 1;* -f- At> -J- B = o, We
find
B;
* 4
A1
here, the roots being supposed imaginary, —-~B
» . 4
must be a negative quantity. That we may simplify
the form of the roots, let us put ———and — 
2 4
B=:—/3Z, then
and v=z — x+PsJ—1, v^—x—p^/ZTi.
Hence we have
a—ft\/—I, b~x——1, c~y ;
so that in two of the four values of y, we have a quan¬
tity of this form,
n/cc+frsj—1 -j-\/*—$,J—1 j
but this quantity, although it appears to he imaginary,
is indeed real; for if we first square it, and then take
its square root, it becomes
\/ 2«-f-2N/«t-f/3%
which is a real quantity. The two other roots involve
this other expression,
E B R A. 54 r
By comparing this equation with the general formula, Reciprocal
we have 25, r~—36 j hence Equations.
IP——5°> f—4^=769, ^*=3600,
and the cubic equation to be resolved is
—50f*47691,’—3600=0 j
the roots of which are found, by the rules for cubics,
to be 9, 16, and 25, so that we have V" 0=3, ^=4,
V'czzy. Now in this case y is positive, therefore
*=-£(—3—4—5)=—6
*=K—3+4+5)=+3
*=i(+3—4+5)= + 2
^—*(+3+4—5)—+ 1-
217. We have now explained the particular rules
by which the roots of equations belonging to each of
the first four orders may be determined; and this is
the greatest length mathematicians have been able to
go in the direct resolution of equations $ for as to those
of the fifth, and all higher degrees, no general method
has hitherto been found, either for resolving them di¬
rectly, or for reducing them to others of an inferior de¬
gree.
It even appears that the formula; which express the
roots of cubic equations are by no means of universal
application 5 for in one case, that is, when the roots
are all real, they become illusory, so that no conclusion
can be drawn from them. The same observation will
also apply to the formulae for the roots of biquadratic
equations, because, before they can be applied, it is al¬
ways necessary to find the roots of a cubic equation.
But in either cubics or biquadratic equations, even when
the formulae involve no imaginary quantities, and there¬
fore can be always applied, it is more convenient in
practice to employ some other methods which we are
hereafter to explain.
Sect. XIII. Of Reciprocal Equations.
JK + IS/J—I—s/ 1 $
which being treated in the same manner as the former,
becomes
\/ 2cc—2lV/«*4/3*,
an imaginary quantity, and therefore the roots into
which it enters are imaginary.
4. We may discover from the coefficients of the pro¬
posed biquadratic equation in what case the roots of the
cubic equation are all real $ for this purpose, the latter
is to be transformed into another which shall want the
second term, by assuming v—u— — •, thus it becomes
218. Although no general resolution has hitherto
been given of equations belonging to the fifth, or anv
higher degree ; yet there are particular equations of all
orders, which, by reason of certain peculiarities in the
nature ol their roots, admit of being reduced to others
of a lower degree, and thus, in some cases, equations of
the higher orders may be resolved by the rules which
have been already explained for the resolution of equa¬
tions belonging to the first four orders.
219. When the coefficients of the terms of an equa¬
tion form the same numerical series, whether taken in
a direct or an inverted order, as in this example,
.t*4i«J+7**+i5tf+I=o,
and in this equation the three roots will be real when
A greater than 4y'J*.
216. As an example of the method of resolving a bi¬
quadratic equation, let it be required to determine the
roots of the following,
—25^*4^0;v~3^:::::0*
Vol. I. Part II. t
that equation may always be transformed into another
of a degree denoted by half the exponent of the highest
power of the unknown quantity, if that exponent be an
even number, or by half the exponent diminished by
unity, if it be an odd number.
Ihe same observation will also apply to any equation
of this form,
xA+pax* 4 qcfx* 4/^3a' -{-(P—O,
where the given quantity a and the unknown quantity
4 M .v are
642
ALGEBRA.
Re^o»l * are precbely alike concerned; for by substituting oy and als0 *+£-„, 60 that ^-ZAr+lrro, tvo S*U“;
I'.qurttions
for x, it becomes
■\-pa*yi-\-qu*y'-\-pa*tj -f-o j
and dividing by a4,
y*-\-pyi-1r(iyi+pyJr 1=0,
an equation of the same kind as the former.
220. That we may effect the proposed transforma¬
tion upon the equation
X* -^.px3 qx* -f-/W 1 =0,
Jet every two terms which are equally distant from the
extremes be collected into one, and the whole be di¬
vided by thus we have
*’+ pr+i>0+^)+?=°*
Let us assume ir-4-~=»a
‘ x
Then **-f 2 +-^ =»* and ^+^=2*—2.
Thus the equation a^-|-+j»(Ar-{--)-}-dpro
becomes ss*-f-jP!8-|-y—2=0.
tqaal
Root?.
have —r=2*—2 ^
x*
^+^=^—3 (^ + ^)=^3—3»*
Hence, by substitution, the proposed equation is
transformed into the following cubic equation
2S3-f.jP2S* + (f—3)52-}-r—2p—o.
Therefore, putting 2', 2", 2'", to denote its roots, the
six roots of the proposed equation will be had by re¬
solving these three quadratics
x*—x1—2"#4-1=0, x*—z'"x-\-i—o,
and here it is evident, as in the former case, that the
roots of each quadratic equation are the reciprocals of
each other, so that the one half of the roots of the pro¬
posed equation are the reciprocals of the other half.
224. The method of resolution we have employed
in the two preceding examples is general for all equa¬
tions whatever, in which the terms placed at equal di¬
stances from the first and last have the same coefficients,
and which are called reciprocal equations, because any
such equation has the same form when you substitute
And since 2 4*-therefore x*—2*-}-1=0.
221. Hence, upon the whole, to determine the roots
of the biquadratic equation
x^Jf-px3 4- qx1 -\-px 4-1=0,
\ve have the following rule.
Form this quadratic equation,
224\p:2 4" S'—- 2:= °>
and find its roots, which let us suppose denoted by 2'
and 2". Then the four roots of the proposed equation
will be found by resolving two quadratic equations
X* %'x 4-1 = 0, X* %"x 4-1=0.
222. It may be observed respecting these two quadra¬
tic equations, that since the last term of each is unity, if
we put «, a! to denote the roots of the one, and b, b'
those of the other, we have from the theory of equa¬
tions 00'= 1, and therefore a' = ~, also bb' zzi, and b'
a
= now o, o', b, b' are also the roots of the equation
*4 4-p?3 4*?** ~\~px 4-1=0.
Hence it appears that the proposed equation has this
peculiar property, that the one half of its roots are the
reciprocals ol the other half j and to that circumstance
we are indebted for the simplicity of its resolution.
223. The following equation,
*6 +pxs 4- 4- r*3 4* 4-P* 4-1=0,
which is of the sixth order, admits of a resolution in all
respects similar to the former j for by putting it under
this form
"’+(*■+?) +*(*+;) +r=0>
for x its reciprocal -.
X
225. If the greatest exponent of the unknown quan¬
tity in a reciprocal equation is an odd number, as in
this example,
xt+px^+qx* 4-y*2-fpf4-l=0,
the equation will always be satisfied by substituting
—I lor x; hence —1 must be a root of the equation,
and therefore the equation must be divisible by ar-f-1-
Accordingly, if the division be actually performed, we
shall have in the present case
+Cp—1 > ’—(p—1V 4-1 > 4-1=0,
another reciprocal equation, in which the greatest ex¬
ponent of x is an even number, and therefore resolvable
in the manner we have already explained.
Sect. XIV. Of Equations •which have Equal Roots,
226. When an equation has two or more of its roots
equal to one another, those roots may always be disco¬
vered, and the equation reduced t© another of an infe¬
rior degree, by a method of resolution which is pecu¬
liar to this class of equations £ and which we now pro¬
ceed to explain.
227* iltlthough the method of resolution we are to
employ will apply alike to equations having equal roots,
of every degree, yet, for the sake of brevity, we shall
take a biquadratic equation,
4*^#14~#*a4*r*+5—°>
the roots of which may be generally denoted by o, b,
c, and d, Ihus we have, from the theory of equations,
(x—afx—£>) (#—c) (a—rf)=j?4 4-/W} 4'9's?*+rx+s.
Let us put
•A- = (x—a) (x—b)(x—c) A" = (x—a) (#—c)(x—d)
A'= O—a)(x—b) (x—d) A"'=(x^bXx—cXx—d)
Then,
Equations
rilh equal A--x3_a
Roots.
A L
Then, by actual multiplication, we have
+^7
-{-ac > x—abc
+ bcS
G
A'—x3—a
A"~x3—a
“7
P > A?*
1)
-abd
+ ab^
-j- ad S- x-
-\-bd\
-\-ac 7
-\-ad> x—acd
+bd)
Awzzx3—b'i -\-bc ~l
—c >■ x* -\-bd > x-—bcd
—d J
and taking the sum of these four equations
A-j-A'-j-A"-!-Aw—4 a:3—3fl"J ~\-iab
, + lac
-\-2ad
■\-2bc
+ 2bd
+ 2cd m
But since o, b, c, d are the roots of the equation
x* -^-px3 -\-qxi1 df-rx s—o,
iuui
3—Sal
-3H
—sc r
-3d)
—abc
—abd
x—acd
—-bed
we have —3(c-J-^-f-c-j-e?)=3/)
2(ab —ad —|— be -^-bd^-cd^ 2q
~^{abc-\-abd-\‘acd-\‘bcd)'zzr.
Therefore, by substitution,
A+A' -j- A" A,"=4»3 -j- ^px* -f- 2qx -f-r.
2/2%. Tet us now suppose that the proposed biqua¬
dratic equation has two equal roots, or azzb, then x—
Q—X——b) and since one or other of these equal factors
enters each of the four products A, A', A", A'", it is
evident that A +A/-f-A"-f-A'", or $x3+ ‘$px*-\-2qx
-f-r must be divisible by x—a, or x—b. Thus it ap¬
pears that if the proposed equation
x* -\-px3 qx* + nv -}- s—o
has two equal roots, each of them must also be a root of
this equation,
4‘:v3-f-3iu2+ 2qx-\-r=zo j
for when the first of these equations is divisible by
(a:—«)*, the latter is necessarily divisible by x—a.
229* Let us next suppose that the proposed equation
has three equal roots or a—b—c, then two at least of
the three equal factors x—o, x—b, x—c, must enter
each of the four products A0, A', A", A'"; so that in
this case A-f-A'+A"-f A"', or 4*3 4- 3^4.2^v-f r
must be twice divisible by x—a. Hence it follows,
that as often as the proposed equation has three equal
roots, two of them must also be equal roots of the
equation
qx* -\-3px* -\-2qx -\-r—o.
230. Proceeding in the same manner, it may be
shewn that whatever number of equal roots are in the
proposed equation «
X4-j-px3-j-qx*-j-rx 4- 5=0,
they will all remain except one, in this equation
4x*+3Pxi+2qx 4-r=o,
E B R A. 643
which is evidently derived from the former, by multi- Equations
plying each of its terms by the exponent of x in that with equal
term, and then diminishing the exponent by unity. Roots.
231. If we suppose that the proposed equation has * "" ^
two equal roots or azzb, and also two other equal roots,
or c=xd, then, by reasoning as before, it will appear that
the equation derived from it must have one root equal
to a or b, and another equal to c ov d; so that when
the former is divisible both by (a?—a)* and (a?—c)*, the
latter will be divisible by (a:—d) (x—c).
232. The same mode of reasoning may be extended
to all equations whatever j so that if we suppose
 4-Sa?24-Ta:4-U=:o,
an equation of the mth degree, to have a divisor of this
form,
(a?—a)n (x—dy (x—f)*. . . &c.
The equation
1) P*’’-,4-0—2) Qa;m”3 4- 2$x
"f*T=o,
which is of the next lower degree, will have for a di¬
visor
(a;—a)"-l(x—dy** (x-—f)'1~x . . . &c.
and as this last product must be a divisor of both equa¬
tions, it may always be discovered by the rule which has
been given (§ 49.) for finding the greatest common di¬
visor of two algebraic quantities.
233* Again, as this last equation must, in the case
of equal roots, have the same properties as the original
equation j therefore, if we multiply each of its terms by
the exponent of a?, and diminish that exponent by unity,
as before, we have
xm~* 4- O—1) O—2) Pa?”-3 4- (tn—2)
(w—3) Q*”-* 4-28=0,
a new equation, which will have for a divisor
(x—a)"-2 (x—dy-* (*—/)*-%
where the exponent of the factors are one less than
those of the equation from which it was derived j and
as this last divisor is also a divisor of the original equa¬
tion, it may be discovered in the same manner as the
former, namely, by finding the greatest common mea¬
sure ol both equations j and so on we may proceed as
far as we please.
234. As a particular example, let us take this equa¬
tion,
xs—I3^?44-67a?3—i7ia?*4-2i6a?—108=0,
and apply to it the method we have explained, in order
to discover whether it has equal roots, and if so, what
they are. We must therefore seek the greatest com¬
mon measure of the proposed equation and this other
equation, which is formed agreeably to what has been
shewn § 228,
5A?4—5 2x3 4- 201 a?*—3 4 2# -f 216=0,
and the operation being performed, we find that they
have a common divisor x*—8a^4-2ia?—18, which is of
the third degree, and consequently may have several
factors. Let us therefore try whether the last equation
and the following,
20X3— 15 4- 40 2a?—34 2=0,
which is derived from it, as directed in § 228. have
any common divisor) and, by proceeding as before, we
4 M 2 find
644 ALOE
Equations find that they admit of this divisor *—3, which is also
with ratio- a factor of the last divisor —8a;,-f-2l#—18, and
nal Roots, therefore the product of remaining factors is immedi-
ateiy found by division to be x*—5# + 6, which is evi¬
dently resolvable into x—2 and x—3.
Thus, it appears upon the whole, that the common
divisor of the original equation, and that which is im¬
mediately derived from it, is (a;—2) (a?—3)* 5 and that
the common divisor of the second and third equations
is x—3. Hence it follows that the proposed equation
has (x—2)* for one factor, and (x—3)3 for another
factor j so that the equation itself may be expressed
thus, (x—2)z(a?—^)3=:o, and the truth of this con¬
clusion may be easily verified by multiplication.
Sect. XV. Resolution of Equations whose Roots are
rational.
235. It has been shewn in § 169 that the last term
of any equation is always the product of its roots taken
with contrary signs: Hence it follows that when the
roots are rational they may be discovered by the follow¬
ing rule.
Bring all the terms of the equation to one side j find
all the divisors of the last term, and substitute them
successively for the unknown quantity in the equation.
Then each divisor, which produces a result equal to o,
is a root of the proposed equation.
Ex. 1. Let a;3—4A:2—yx 4-10=0 be the proposed
equation.
Then, the divisors of 10 the last term are 1, 2, 5, 10,
each of which may be taken either positively, or nega¬
tively, and these being substituted successively for x, we
obtain the following results.
By putting -j-i for x, 1— 4— 74-10= o
—1 —1— 44- 74-10— 12
4-2 8— 16—144-10=—12
—2 —8— i64-i44-IO:::::: 0
+5 125—100—354-10= o
Here the divisors which produce results equal to o
are + 1, —2, and + 5, and therefore these, numbers
are the three roots of the proposed equation.
236. When the number of divisors to be tried hap¬
pens to be considerable, it will be convenient to trans¬
form the proposed equation into another, in which the
last term has fewer divisors. This may, in general,
be done by forming an equation, the roots of which
are greater or less than those of the proposed equa¬
tion by some determinate quantity, as in the following
example :
Ex. 2. Let y*—4^^—Sy-f-B2—0 he proposed.
Here the divisors to be tried are 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32,
each taken either positively or negatively j but to pre¬
vent the trouble of so many substitutions, let us trans¬
form the equation, by putting x-J-i for y.
Then y*=x*-\- 6x'-\- 4*4. 1
—4y3— —4*3—12*5—1 ix— 4
—8y = —- 8x— 8
+ 32 — 4-32
BRA.
is the transformed equation, and the divisors of the last Equations
term are -f-L —+3> —3> +7’ —7’ These being witbratio-
put successively for x, we get 4-1 and +3 f°r t'vo na^oots-
roots of the equation 5 and as to the two remaining 'T’—
roots, it is easy to see that they must be imaginary.
They may, however, be readily exhibited by consider¬
ing that the equation xA—6x*—16x4-21=0 is divisible
by the product of the two factors x—1 and x—3, and
therefore may be reduced to a quadratic. According¬
ly, by performing the division, and putting the quotient
equal o, we have this equation,
x* 4-4X 4*7 'f*'-”®)
the roots of which are the imaginary quantities
—3 and —2—sj—3 ; so that since y=x4-1>
the roots of the equation y4—4y3—8y4-32=o are these,
y=4-2, y=4-4, y=—1 -f-\/—3> y=—1—n/—3-
If this literal equation were proposed,
x3—(3a 4- -j- (2a* 4-3^)x—2azb— 0,
by proceeding as before, we should find x=a, x=2a,
x~b for the roots.
237. To avoid the trouble of trying all the divisors
of the last term, a rule may be investigated for re¬
stricting the number to very narrow limits, as fol¬
lows :
Suppose that the cubic equation x* px*-\-qx-\-rzzo
is to be resolved. Let it be transformed into another,
the roots of which are less than those of the proposed
equation by unity : this may be done by assuming
y=x—I, and the last term of the transformed equa¬
tion will he I +p-\-q-\-r. Again, by assuming y=x4-1
another equation will be formed whose roots exceed
those of the proposed equation by unity, and the last
term of this other transformed equation will be
-i-\-p—q-\-r. And here it is to be observed, that
these two quantities ant^—lm\mP—
are formed from the proposed equation x^-^-px^-\-qx
by substituting in it successively 4-1 and —1 for x.
Now the values of x are some of the divisors of r,
which is the term left in the proposed equation, when
x is supposed =0; and the values of the y’s are some
of the divisox-s of and —14-/?—7+^ re¬
spectively 5 and these values are in arithmetical pro¬
gression, inci’easing by the common difference unity j
because x—1, x, x-j-i are in that progression ; and it is
obvious, that the same reasoning will apply to an equa¬
tion of any degree whatever. Hence the following
rule.
Substitute in place of the unknown quantity, succes¬
sively, three or more terms of the progression 1, o, —I,
&c. and find all the divisors of the sums that result, then
take out all the arithmetical px-ogressions that can be
found among these divisors, whose common difference is
I, and the values of x will be among these terms of the
progressions, which are the divisors of the result arising
from the substitution of x=o. When the series increa¬
ses, the x'oots will be positive j and, when it decreases^
they will be negative.
iJfr
—- 6x3—16x4-21=0
Ex. 1. Let it be required to find a root of the equa¬
tion x3—x2—10x4-6=0.
Therefore x4
The
L G E B R A.
A
iqaations
ith ratio-
al Roots.
The operation.
Substit.
x=+n
X— O >■ X1 X‘
x== 1 J
Result.
. f— 4
-f 6
t+H
Divisors.
I. 2. 4. '
I. 2. 3. 6.
I. 2. 7. 14.
Pro.
<545
Equations
with ratio¬
nal Roots.
tn this example there is only one progression, 4, 3, 2,
the term of which opposite to the supposition of x—o
being 3, and the series decreasing, we try if —3 substi¬
tuted for x makes the equation vanish, and as it suc¬
ceeds, it follows that —3 is one of its roots. To find
the remaining roots, if —a?2—ioa:-{-6 be divided by
#+3, and the quotient x*—4«-}-2 put =0, they will
appear to be 2-\-/s/2} and 2—^2.
Ex. 2. Let the proposed equation be
xA-\-x*—29**—9#-|-i8o=:o.
To find its roots.
Here there are four progressions, two increasing and
two decreasing-, hence by taking their terms, which are
opposite to the supposition of x=o, we have these four
numbers to be tried as roots of the equation -f-3, -f-4,
—3, —5, all of which are found to succeed.
238. If any of the coefficients of the proposed equa¬
tion be a fraction, the equation may be transformed in¬
to another, having the coefficient of the highest power
unity, and those of the remaining terms integers by
§ 189. and the roots of the transformed equation being
found, those of the proposed equation may be easily de¬
rived from them.
For example, if the proposed equation be a?3—|A?a
—6=0. Let us assume x= -, thus the equa¬
tion is transformed to
nal fractions. This may be demonstrated by means of
the following proposition. If a prime number P be a
divisor of the product of two numbers A and B, it will
also be a divisor of at least one of the numbers.
24o. Let us suppose that it does not divide B, and
that B is greater than P; then, putting q for the
greatest number of times that P can be had in B, and
B B/
B' for the remainder, we have -p=<7-f"p-, and there¬
fore
AB'
P *
Hence it appears, that if P be a divisor of AB, it is
also a divisor of AB'. Now B' is less than P, for ib
is the remainder which is found in dividing B by P j
therefore, seeing we cannot divide B' by P, let P ha
divided by B', and q' put for the quotient, also B" for
the remainder; again, let P be divided by B", and q"
put for the quotient, and B'" for the remainder, and
so on ; and as P is supposed to be a prime number, it
is evident that this series of operations may be conti¬
nued till the remainder be found equal to unity, which
will at last be the case; for the divisors are the succes¬
sive remainders of the divisions, and therefore each is
less than the divisor which preceded it. By performing’
these operations we obtain the following series of equa¬
tions,
P=/B/ + B" ]
P=r^"B"d-Bw, i and therefore
&c. |
* J
P—B"
P—B'"
o q
&.C.
9
TT , AP—AB"
Hence we have AB'= and
9
q'AW _ AP—AB"_ A AB"
p p — p •
y* v/ , 3$y
64 64 ^ 16
Or 34—7y1 + i4°y—384=°>
6=0,
one root of which is y=3 j hence xzz
The proposed equation being now divided by x—\ is
reduced to this quadratic x2—#-f-8=o, the roots of
which are both impossible.
239. When the coefficients of an equation are inte¬
gers, and that of the highest power of the unknown
quantity unity, if its roots are not found among the di¬
visors of the last term, we may be certain that, whe¬
ther the equation be pure or adfected, its roots cannot
he exactly expressed either by whole numbers or ratio¬
Now if AB be divisible by P, we have shewn that
AB', and consequently ^'AB' is divisible by P j there¬
fore, from the last equation, it appears that AB" must
also be divisible by P.
Again, from the preceding series of equations, we
have AB"=    and therefore
q"
/AB" AP—AB'" A AB'"
P - p -A p-j
hence we conclude that AB'" is also divisible by P.
Proceeding in this manner, and observing that the
series of quantities B', B", B"', &c. continually de¬
crease till one of them =1, it is evident that we shall
at last come to a product of this form A XL which
muse*
646
ALGEBRA.
Kquatioas
with ratio¬
nal Roots.
must be divisible by P, and hence the truth of the pro¬
position is manifest. . #
241. It follows from this proposition, that it the
prime number P, which we have supposed not to be a
divisor of B, is at the same time not a divisor of A, it
cannot be a divisor of AB the product of A and B.
242. Let - be a fraction in its lowest terms, then
the numbers a and b have no common divisor ; but
from what has been just now shewn, it appears, that if
a prime number be not a divisor of a it cannot be a
divisor of or a*, and in like manner, that if a
prime number is not a divisor of b, it cannot be a di¬
visor of bxb, or b1; therefore, it is evident that o*
and b* have no common divisor, and thus the fraction
bz
— is also in its lowest terms,
a*
Hence it follows that the square of any fractional
quantity is still a fraction, and cannot possibly be a
whole number j and, on the contrary, that the square
root of a whole number cannot possibly be a fraction ;
so that all such whole numbers as are not perfect
squares can neither have their roots expressed by in¬
tegers nor by fractions.
243. Since then if a prime number is not a divisor
of c, it is also not a divisor of «*, therefore if it is not a
divisor of a, it cannot be a divisor of o X or c? > § 241»
and by reasoning in this way, it is obvious that if a
prime number is not a divisor of o, it cannot be a di¬
visor of an; also, that if it is not a divisor of b, it can¬
not be a divisor of bn. therefore if - is a fraction in its
a
bn . ....
lowest terms, — is also a fraction in its lowest terms 5
an
so that any poiver whatever of a fraction is also a frac¬
tion, and on the contrary, any root of a whole number
is also a whole number. Plence it follows that if the
root of a whole number is not expressible by an inte¬
ger, such root cannot be expressed by a fraction, but
is therefore irrational or incommensurable.
244. Let us next suppose that
xn+Vxn-,+Q,xn-% . . . -fT*-fU=o
is any equation whatever, in which P, Q, &c. denote
integer numbers ; then if its roots are not integers they
cannot possibly be rational fractions. For, if possible,
let us suppose X—-, a fraction reduced to its lowest
a
terms, then, by substitution,
an ^ an~x _ a"-2 ___
pr+p-^=r+ • • • +T^+U=o,
and, reducing all the terms to a common denominator,
o"+Qa"-*63 . . . +T^"-*+U^=o,
which equation may also be expressed thus,
«’*+£(Pa"-I + Qa”-^ f-TG^-2-fU^-‘)rro,
where the equation consists of two parts, one of which
is divisible by b. But by hypothesis a and b have no
common measure, therefore o’* is not divisible by
§ 243 $ hence it is evident that the two parts of the
equation cannot destroy each other as they ought to do j
therefore x cannot possibly be a fraction.
3
Sect. XVI. Resolution of Equations by Approxima¬
tion.
245. When the roots of an equation cannot be ac¬
curately expressed by rational numbers, it is necessary
to have recourse to the methods of approximation, and
by these we can always determine the numerical values
of the roots to as great a degree of accuracy as we
please.
246. The application of the methods of approxima¬
tion is rendered easy by means of the following princi¬
ples :
If two numbers, either whole or fractional, be found,
which, when substituted for the unknown quantity in
any equation, produce results with contrary signs; we
may conclude that at least one root of the proposed
equation is between those numbers, and is consequently
real.
Let the proposed equation be
X9 5A?3 -}- I ox—15 = 0,
which, by collecting the positive terms into one sum,
and the negative into another, may also be expressed
thus,
X* -f 10#—(5I\;2+ I5)r=0 ;
then to determine a root of the equation, we must find
such a number as when substituted for x will render
*J 10#:= 5#*-f-15.
Let us suppose x to have every degree of magnitude
from o upwards in the scale of number, then A^-f-loar
and 5#*-}-15 will both continually increase, but with
different degrees of quickness, as appears from the fol¬
lowing table.
Successive values ofo, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, &c.
■  - - of X* + 10#. o, II, 28, 57,104, 175, 276, &c,
 of 5^+15-15> 20> 35» 95> I4°> &c-
By inspecting this table, it appears that while x in¬
creases from o to a certain numerical value, which ex¬
ceeds 3, the positive part of the equation, or a;3-j-iO^,
is always less than the negative part, or ; so
that the expression
4.10a?—(5'**+I5)> ora;3—5a?24-ioa?—15
must necessarily be negative.
It also appears that when a? has increased beyond
that numerical value, and which is evidently less than
4, the positive part of the equation, instead of being less
than the negative part, is now greater, and therefore
the expression
a?3—5a?24-ioa?—15
is changed from a negative to a positive quantity.
247. Hence we may conclude that there is some
real and determinate value of x, which is greater than
3, but less than 4, and which will render the positive
and negative parts of the equation equal to one another;
therefore that value of x must be a root of the proposed
equation $ and as what has been just now shewn in a
particular case will readily apply to any equation w'hat-
ever, the truth of what has been asserted at § 246 is
obvious.
248. Two
Appraxi-
matioa,
approxi¬
mation.
A L G
24S. Two limits, between which all the roots of any
equation are contained, may be determined by the fol¬
lowing proposition.
Let N be the greatest negative coefficient in any
equation. Change the signs of the terms taken alter¬
nately, beginning with the second, and let N' be the
greatest negative coefficient after the signs are so
changed. The positive roots of the equation are con¬
tained between o and N-f 1, and the negative roots be¬
tween 0 and —N'—1.
Suppose the equation to be
AT4 p AT3 -j- AT2 r X 6~0,
which may be also expressed thus:
*4(i_^+a__?: M-o
V *3 X4)
Then, whatever be the values of the coefficients p, q, r,
&c. it is evident that x may be taken so great as to ren-
der each of the quantities -, as small as we
X X X* X4
please, and therefore their sum, or — - 4- -2   £_
x^ x* .v5 x*
Jess than 15 but in that case the quantity
x4(i— 
\ X ' X1 x3 'a?4/
or a;4—px' -^qx*—rx + s,
will be positive, and such, that the first term a:4 is great¬
er than the sum of all the remaining terms ; therefore
also A^-f-^A?2 the sum of the positive terms will be much
gieater than px3-\-rx-\~s the sum of the negative terms
alone.
Hence it follows, that if a number be found, which
when substituted for at, renders the expression a:4—px*
-fy*2—i'x—5 positive, and which is also such that every
greater number has the same property, that number will
exceed the greatest positive root of the equation.
Now, if we suppose N to be the greatest negative
coefficient, it is evident that the positive part of the
equation, or A^-f^A;2, is greater than p a; 3-f r a?-f-s,
provided that a?4 is greater than N *3-f N A?2-f N a?
+ N, or N (a?3 -J-a;2 -f-Ar-f- 1) j but a?3-fA;2-fA’-f 1 =
.v4—1
'x—11 t*ieref°re a positive result will be obtained, if
for x there be substituted a number such that x4-^
NO4—1)
——or a;5—a?4t^Na?4—N. Now this last
condition will evidently be fulfilled if we take a?*.—a?4—
Na;4, and from this equation we find Ar=:N-f 1 ; but
it farther appears that the same condition will also be
fulfilled as often as x5—a^-^Na-4, or x i-^N that
is, x-^N-j- i, therefore N-f-i must be a limit to the
greatest positive root of the proposed equation, as was
to be shewn.
249. If —y be substituted for the equation
x'4 px^-j-qx*—rx——s~o will be transformed into
9*m)rPy3"\m<iyx-\‘ry—s—Oj which equation differs from
E B R A. 647
the former only in the signs of the second, fourth, &c. Approxi-
terms ; and as the positive roots of this last equation mation.
aie tlie same as the negative roots of the proposed equa- v——y—
tion, it is evident that their limit must be such as has
been assigned.
25°; From the two preceding propositions it will not
be difficult to discover, by means of a few trials, the
nearest integers to the roots of any proposed numeral
equation, and those being found, we may approximate
to the roots continually, as in the following example :
x*—4 a:3*—3 a; -j- 2 7=o.
Here the greatest negative coefficient being 4, it fol¬
lows, § 248. that the greatest positive rooGs less than
S’ —y be substituted for x, the equation is trans¬
formed to
3'4+43'3*+33'+27=°,
an equation having all its terms positive j therefore, it
can have no positive roots, and consequently the pro¬
posed equation can have no negative roots j its real roots
must therefore be contained between o and -{-5.
251. To determine the limits of each root in particu¬
lar, let o, I, 2, 3, 4, be substituted successively for x ;
thus we obtain the following corresponding results.
Substitutions for x o, I, 2, 3, 4
Results +27» + 2i»+5>—9,4.15,
Hence it appears that the equation has two real roots,
one between 2 and 3, and another between 3 and 4.
252. That we may approximate to the first root, let
us suppose x~2 -f-y> where y is a fraction less than
unity, and therefore its second and higher powers but
small in comparison to its first power j hence, in find¬
ing an approximate value of y, they may be rejected.
Thus we have
Ar4=-j-j6-f-32y, &.c.
—4*3=—32—48y, &c.
—3^ =— 6— 3y
+ 27 = + 27
Hence o zz 5—I9y nearly,
and y26 ; therefore, for a first approximation,,
we have x—2.26.
Let us next suppose x=.2.26-{-y\ then, rejecting as
before the second and higher powers of y on account of
their smallness, we have
a4=-f 26.0874-46.172/, &c.
—4A3 =—46.172—61.291/, &c.
—3* =— 6.780— 3/
+ 27 =+27
0= .135 —18.119y'nearly.
Hence y’= — =.0075, and #=2.264-/2.2675.
This value of x is true to the last figure, but a more
accurate value may be obtained by supposing a: =2.675
4-y"> antl finding the value of y" in the same manner
as we have already found those of / and y ,* and thus
the
* The sign
« is greater than b, and that a is Jess than c.
denotes that the quantities between which it is placed are unequal. Thus ar^rb, signifies that
7. Jirul n. r fltaf ft 1 a loco Flinn
A L G E B R A.
Awnm. the approximation may be continued till any required
matioi!. decree of accuracy be obtained.
—v / The second root of the equation, which we have
already found to be between 3 and 4, may be investi¬
gated in the same manner as the first, and will appeal
to he 3-6797, ^ie approximation being carried on to
the fourth figure of the decimal, in determining each
253. In the preceding example we have shewn how
to approximate to the roots of an adfected equation, but
the same method will also apply to pure equations.
For example, let it be required to determine x fiom
this equation x3=:2.
Because x is greater than 1, and less than 2, but near¬
er to the former number than to the latter, let us as¬
sume x=i+ij, then, rejecting the powers of y which
exceed the first, we have «?=l+3y, and therefore
and y=j=.3 nearly, hence x=i.3 nearly.
Let us next assume .v=i.3-|-?/ then, proceeding as
.197
before, we find 2=2.197 + 5.07/, hence y=— —
——.039, and #=1.3—.039= 1.26 nearly.
To find a still nearer approximation, let us suppose
# nr 1.26 +y', then from this assumption we find y=
—.000079, and therefore ^'=12.59921, which value is
true to the last figure.
254. By assuming an equation of any order with li¬
teral coefficients, a general formula may be investigated,
for approximating to the roots ol equations belonging to
that particular order.
Let us take for an example the cubic equation
x3 +y a? 1 + qx+r—o,
and suppose that x=a-\-y, where a is nearly equal to
x, and y is a small, fraction. Then, by substituting
o+y for x in the proposed equation, and rejecting the
powers of y which exceed the first, on account of their
smallness, we have
a t +ya+ r + (3a1 + 2ya+y)y=o.
vantage of shewing the progress made in the approxi- .Approxi¬
mation by each operation. This improved form we now ‘nation,
proceed to explain.
Let a denote the whole number, next less to the
root sought, and ^ a fraction, which, when added to a,
completes the root, then x—a-\- If this value of x
be substituted in the proposed equation, a new equation
involving y will be had, which, when cleared ef frac¬
tions, will necessarily have a root greater than unity.
Let b be the whole number which is next less than
that root, then, for a first approximation, we have *=
a + -^. But b being only an approximate value of y,
in the same manner as a is an approximate value of
we may suppose y=i+ —, then, by substituting
for ?/, we shall have a new equation, involving only y',
which must be greater than unity 5 putting therefore b
to denote the next whole number less than the root of
1 bb'-\-1
't—h + A/ — >
the equation involving y', we have ij—u -p ^ — y
and substituting this value in that of x, the result is
V
x—ci + ,—
1 bb'+i
for a second approximate value of x.
To find a third value we may take y'=i,+ —, then
if b" denote the next whole number less than y", we
7 1 b'b"+t ,
have y'=b' + ^7 = whence
b"
y=+ +
x~a +
bb'b"-\-b"-\-b
b'b" + 1 b'b" +1 ’ '
b'b"-\-1
bb'y+V'+b'’
Hence y:
o3+pa*+yo + r
3«a+2j^+?
  oS+^r^+ya+r  2a3 +/?a*—r
311 X~a S^ + ipa + y 3a2+2ya+y
255. Let it be required to approximate to a root of
the cubic equation #3+ 2«*+3«—50=0. Herep—2,
q—3 and —50 } and by trials it appears that x is
between 2 and 3, but nearest the latter number j there¬
fore, for the first approximation, a may be supposed =3,
hence we find
 2a3+yc*—r _ r 2 2 _ g,
«— —7~, ;— — ■gr'5’ — ^"T*
3a +2Pa+^
By substituting for a in the formula, and proceed¬
ing as Before, a value of x would be found more exact
than the former, and so on we may go as far as we
please.
256. The method we have hitherto employed for ap¬
proximating to the roots of equations, is known by the
name of the method of successive substitutions, and was
first proposed by Newton. It has been since improved
by Lagrange, who has given it a form which has the ad-
and so on to obtain more accurate approximations.
257. We shall apply this method to the following
example,
a;3—7.x+ 7=0.
Here the positive roots must be between O and 8, let us
therefore substitute successively, o, 1, 2, . . . to 8, and
we obtain results as follow :
Substitutions.
0, x, 2, 3, 4, 5> 7> 8»
Results.
+ 7, + L + i, + i3>+43>+97>+i8i> + 30I>+463 »
but as these results have all the same sign, nothing can
be concluded respecting the magnitude of the roots
from that circumstance alone. It is, however, observa¬
ble, that while x increases from o to 1 the results de¬
crease *, but that whatever successive magnitudes » has
greater than 2, the results increase ; we may therefore
reasonably conclude that if the equation have any posi¬
tive roots they must be between 1 and 2. According¬
ly by substituting 1.2, 1.4, 1.6, and 1.8 successively for
.v, we find these results + .328, —.056, -—.104, +.232,
and
■ ALGEBRA.
ppioxima- and as there are here two changes of the signs, it fol-
tion. lows that the equation has two positive roots, one be-
■—v tween 1.2 and 1.4, and another between 1.6 and 1.8.
Hence it appears, that to find either value of », we
%
4, and to find a nearer value we may put a’rr—3-
— > hence we have y3—loy1—py—1=0, and^7^>'20,
5 and therefore, for the first approximation,
may assume thus, by substitution, we have
3'3—4y*+3y+I=o-
The limit of the positive root of this last equation is 5,
and by substituting o, I, 2, 3, 4, successively for y, it
will be found to have two, one of which is between
1 and 2, and the other between 2 and 3. Therefore,
ior a first approximation, we have
tfrul-j-Tf .rzri-f-i, that is, «=2,
To approach nearer to the first value of y, let us take
*/— 14—r> an(l therefore
V
y'S— 2 /*—• y' 1 = 0.
This last equation will be found to have only one real
root between 2 and 3, from which it appears, that y—
and .r=i+|—4.
Let us next suppose y'=:2+-^7; hence we find
y"*—3 ym—4 y''~1=o,
and from this equation y" is found to be between 4 and
5. Taking the least limit, sve have
y—t> y—:I+4==V> T'TV:=:T-f*
It is easy to continue this process by assuming y"—
4+y^> and so on, as far as may be judged necessary.
We return to the second value of x, which was
found by the first approximation, and which cor¬
responds to 2. Putting y= 2and substituting
this value in the equation y3—4y*-J-3y-j-i=o, which
was formerly found, we get
/3+y’-2y'-I=o,
this equation, as well as the corresponding equation
employed in determining the other value of #, has only
one root greater than unity, which root being between
1 and 2, let us take y'—i, we thence find
y=3, and 1+4=4.
Put y'=l+-^, and we thence find by substitution
y"3—3yn
-4y"—i=c,
an equation which gives y" between 4 and 5 ; hence,
as before,
7/ ■■*■■■ ^ 7/ — 1 ^ 4-
y —^5 y— r»
That we may proceed in the approximation, we have
only to suppose y,,=4+^, and so on. The equation
x3—7*+7 has also a negative root between —3 and
Vol. I. Part II. t
—3—iV——!!• By putting y=20-j--,, &c. we may
obtain successive values of x, each of which will be more
exact than that which preceded it.
258. The successive equations which involve y, yr,
y", &c. have never more than one root greater than
unity, unless that two or more roots of the proposed
equation are contained between the limits a, and o-J-i j
but when that circumstance has place, as in the preced¬
ing example, some one of the equations involving y, y',
&c. will have more than one root greater than unity,
and from each root a series of equations may be derived,
by which we may approximate to the particular roots of
the proposed equation contained between the limits a
and a+ 1.
Sect. XVII. Of Infinite Series.
259. The resolving of any proposed quantity into a
series, is a problem of considerable importance in the
application of algebra to the higher branches of the ma¬
thematics } and there are various methods by which it
may be performed, suited to the particular forms of the
quantities which may become the subject of considera¬
tion.
260. Any rational fraction may be resolved into a
series, by the common operation of algebraic division,
as in the following examples:
O X
Ex. 1. To change into an infinite series.
a—x
Operation.
. ,, X* X* X* D
a—x)ax .(#4 1- —4—r, otc.
x 1 a* a*
+x>
X3 X*
a a*
x*
+7^
Thus it appears, that
ax x* x3 x* „
 =.r-j &c.
a—x a a* a3
Here the law of the series being evident, the terms
may be continued at pleasure.
r- T • • a* . .
Ex. 2. It is required to convert into an in¬
finite series.
4 N 0*+
650
Infinite
Series.
a’-j-Srt.V-f-r2)"1
a1-!- 2a.v-\-x
, 2X , ZX
(I — — -f- ~
O O*
A L
1 45^
a3
G
-J-, &c.
-2UX X
■lax—4 a;*—
2A?3
E B R A.
into series, and which is also of very extensive use in the infinite
higher parts of the mathematics, consists in assuming a Series,
series with indeterminate coefficients, and having its■““v"—
terms proceeding according to the powers of some
quantity contained in the proposed expression.
That we may explain this method, let us suppose
that the fraction
is to be converted into
2.f*
+ 3**+—
6#3 3a4
+ 3* +“ 4*~T
series proceeding by the powers of x: we are therefore
to assume
o*
:A-fB.r-{-C.r2-fD*3+E*4-f-, &c.
Therefore ■
4a;3
a
2f , 3*_2
a ‘ a2
3^
o*
4#
a3
3 .5^
^ a4
—, &.c.
(a + .r)1'
the law of continuation being evident.
261. A second method by which algebraic quanti¬
ties, whether rational or irrational, may be converted
a'-^-ax-^-x1
where A denotes these terms of the series into which
x does not at all enter j B.r the terms which contain
only the first power of x; Ca* the terms which con¬
tain only the second power, and so on. Let both sides
of the equation be multiplied by 0*4-°#+*% so as to
take away the denominator of the fraction, and let the
numerator c* be transposed to the other side, so that the
whole expression may be =0, then
a,A-j-a*Bl
-*-a*-j-aA J x -f-a B
“j- A
7 +0*07 +«*E7 7
L x2-i-a C > A’3-j-a D >.r4-E, &c. 5-=0.
j + bJ + cl 1
Now the quantities A, B, C, D, &c. being supposed
to be entirely independent of any particular value of x,
it follows that the whole expression can only be rro,
upon the supposition that the terms which multiply the
same powers of a? are separately =0$ for if that were
not the case, it would follow that x had a certain de¬
terminate relation to the quantities A, B, C, Stc. which
is contrary to what we have all along supposed. To
determine the quantities A, B, C, &c. therefore, we
have this series of equations,
a* A—a2 rro Hence Am
B=——=—-
a a
c=-B A
minate coefficients, let it be required to express the
square root a2—x2 by means of a series. For this pur¬
pose we might assume
a2—v2=A-FB#-FCA?2-f-I)A;3-j-EA:4-f-, &c. j
but as we would find the coefficients of the odd powers
of x, each =0, let ns rather assume
^2B-{-ai\. =0
c2C -f-«B-(-A=o
r^D-kaC-f-Brzo
^/a*—«*= A4-Ba.,*-fCa;44-I)alJ4->
then, squaring both sides, and transposing, we have
A24-2AB7 4-2 AC 7 +2AD7
4- 1 >Af* Va:4 f 4<s+j
i 4- B2j 4-2BC3
Hence A*—a* =0 and A—a
- U
V=°
B
o1E4-cD4-C=o
&c.
a a*
&c.
Here the law of relation which takes place among
the quantities A, B, C, D, &c. is evident, viz. that if
P, Q, R, denote any three coefficients which immedi¬
ately follow each other,
a2R4_aQ4-R=o ;
and from this equation, by means of the coefficients al¬
ready determined, we find F=o, G= H=  
u6’ a7’
K = o, &c.
rheretore, resuming the assumed equation, and sub¬
stituting for A, B, C, Sec. their respective values, we
2AB4-1 =0
2AC4-B2 =0
AD4-BC =0
&c.
B=-
C-
D-
1
2 A'
B2
2A'
_BC
“ A :
Sec.
1
2a
I
•8^3
I
16a5
and substituting for A, B, C, &c. their values
/■  a-
+ /a—x*—a 
^ 2a
A?4
8n3
_   &c
i6a5 *
have
a;7
a* + ar+x*-- +»&c*
262, As a second example of the method of indeter-
3
This method of resolving a quantity into an infinite
series will be found more expeditious than any other,
as often as the operations of division and evolution are
to be performed at the same time, as in these expression*
1 a1—x*
/y/^-j-A;2 \/a3+A:3
263. The binomial theorem affords a third method
of resolving quantities into series 5 but before we ex¬
plain this method, it will be proper to shew how the
theorem itself may be investigated.
Leta4" v any binomial quantity, which is to be
raised
m
TT’
algebra.
where 7n and n de-
^Seriel' ra^se^ to a Power denoted by
~ v note any numbers either positive or negative. Or be-
(te\ . x ~
I + -J, if we put-=y, then (a-f a;)"
—an X(i+30"5 therefore instead of a-\-x we may
consider l+y, which is somewhat more simple in its
form.
264. By considering some of the first powers of 1
viz.
(i-j-ff) =ri-f x
(i-f-tf)*=:i-i-2*-}- x'
(i+a;)5=i + 3a;+3a;*+ at3
(1 -f a:)4= i -|-4a;+6a:* -j-4A:, -f a:4
&c.
it appears that the powers of 1 -}-a? have this form,
I-}-AA:-f.BA:a-f.CA:,-f-DA:4-}-, &c.
where the coefficients A, B, C, D, &c. are numbers
which are altogether independent of any particular
value of x. It also appears that the series cannot con¬
tain any negative power of x j for if any of its terms
had this form —, then the supposition of x~o would
xr
render that term indefinitely great, whereas the whole
series ought in that case to be reduced to unity.
265. Let us therefore assume
Ci+3')r=I+Ay+By*+%1+D3'4+> &c-
Then we have also
m
(i+s^rrri-f-Aas-f-Bs^-f-Ciz3-f-Das4, &c.
JL x
Let us put (i-j-y)”=rM, (1and therefore
m m
(i-f-y)n =«”*, (1-J-as)" =rt:m, then, taking the differ¬
ence between the two series, we have
urn—fmrrA(y—s) B(y*—-a;*) -f- C(yJ—2SJ) -}- D
(y4—2j4)+, &c-
Because and by subtracting
the latter equation from the former, un—vnzzy-—'Zy
hence, and from the last series, we have
un vn y 2 y % ' y %
2^4, &c.
y—as r>
266. But every expression of the form —e”1 i^
divisible by u—t;, when m is a whole number, thus we
have.
um—vn~ (u^.v>) (u™* * ^.um
um—vn—(ti—v)(vrnt -j-un
so that if we substitute for
. +uvm-z -ft;’'1-1)
. -f«t;"-* -f e’'-1 )
its value as found
from these equations, and divide each term of the series
by the denominator y—2;, we have
t/”1-1 _f ttm~2t; . . . -f w^”1-1 -f vm~1
«n_I -\-un
-f «t;n-2 -ft;”-
A + B(y+») +C(y*+y25 + «*) + D(y34-y*2; -f ya*
+253)+E(y4+yJ*+^«a+y*,+2:4)+, &c.
Now as this last equation must be true, whatever be
the values of y and z, we may suppose y=K, but in that
case i-fym -fa; or un—vn, and therefore uzzv. Thus
the equation is reduced to
^-r=A-f2By-f3Cy2-f4Dy3-f5Ey4-f, &c.
or to the following:
771
—-ttm=tt”(A-f 2By-f 3Cy*-f 4Dy3-f 5Ey4-f, &c.);
so that, putting for um and u" their values (i-fy)’' and
1 *f,y>we ^,ave
(i-fy)(A-f2By-f3Cy*-f4DyJ-f5Ey4-f, &c.
C A-f 2By-f3Cy*-f 4DyJ-f5Ey4-t-,
l + Ay+2By*-f3Cy^-f4Dy4-f,
But from the equation originally assumed we have
&c.
&c.
therefore
— (i+V> —  AyH By*-J Cy5-| 
^ n ^ n n y r n J 1 nJ 1
—+ -Ay+-By3+-Cy3+-%4+,
__ TA-f 2By-f3Cy* -f4DyJ -f 5Ey4 -f, &c.
I + A y +2%2 +3cy3 + 4Dy4 +> &c-
And as the coefficients of the terms have no connexion of y on the other side. Therefore, to determine
with any particular value ofy, it follows, that the co- A, B, C, &c. we have the following series of equa-
efficient of any power of y on the one side of the equa- tions:
tion must be equal to the coefficient of the same power
4 N 2 A-
4 N 2
6^2
ALGEBRA.
Infinite
Series.
A = '
Hence A~—
n
ru .
2B+ a=—a
3c+2B=-b
4D+3C = —C
B=-
«-)
A {rn— ri)
B
K-)
2
B (rn— 2«)
D=-
(T-3)
3 »
C(w —3 «)
4 »
Df-—4) .
\n L)(m—4«)
5
&c.
5 «
An—
n
?»(»z—«)
Bn —
- 1.2 «2
 m(pi—n)
~~ 1.2 .3
7»(7«—11) (m—2«) (7«—3«)
1.2.3 *4
w(»z—ri) (rn—in) (m—3») (m—4?/)
D
En
I . 2
&c.
3 -4 -5
267. Resuming now the assumed equation
m
(i+y^ni+Ay+B^+C^+j &c.
and observing that and (04-^)" ==<*a C1 + y)n
we have
m m f 771 y
(«+xF=a-(i+—4
v 1 \ «a
A(?72—n)x* t B(»2—in)
in
C(m—3?z)r
a* ’ 4/2
+
-4 + » &C‘)
m
n
is positive, but the same conclusion will be obtain-
ed when — is negative. For, changing 4 m
n
—m, and observing that
5E44l>=^ E=
&c.
Or, substituting for A, B, C, &e. their values as
determined from the preceding equations :
m(m—n) _T,2,” ,
— 4
I . I n* ‘
771 ^ rri—ri
(a4^)n=o"H « " »-]
m(m—n) (in—iri) rH—l?
 —a n j
1.2. 3
. m(m—n) (m—in) (m—3re)”::4”
• 2 . 3 T“7
;<4 4, &c.
-72
72
-t) _~
we have
u~m
u"
Now we have already found, that when 22m?, the
un
-v-m __ I fvm—um \ _ 1 /um—vm\
-vH umvm \ un—vn ) umvm\ un—v" /
fraction
72-
same case,
u~
-v mu
— becomes   
nun
-v
j therefore, in the
1 — 1 mu
72*m ^ nu"'
•v" u’"' nw re 72
and from this last expression we derive the same value
—m
for 72~m or (i4y) “ as before, regard being had to the
change of the sign of the exponent.
269. If we suppose m to be a positive integer, and
re=i, the series given in last article for the powers of
04* will always terminate, as appears also from the
operation of involution j but if m be negative, or —
a fraction, the series will consist of an indefinite num¬
ber of terms. Examples of the application of the
theorem have been already given upon the first suppo¬
sition, when treating of involution ; we now proceed
to shew how it is to be applied to the expansion of al¬
gebraic quantities into series upon either of the two last
hypotheses.
270. Ex. 1. It is required to express —^ by means
of a series.
where A, B, C, &c. denote the coefficients of the pre¬
ceding terms, or
Because
Therefore
r
%
1 +7.
(> + 20 :
(, + r)
I
have
i 4-j be compared with (a4^)" an^ we
:l, x~~, m——3, n— 1.
r
and either of these formulae may be considered as a ge- Hence, by substituting these values of a, w, Tre, re in the
neral theorem for raising a binomial quantity a-\-x to first general formula of & 267, we have
any power whatever. ~ ^
268. In determining the value of the expression
M vm
;   when 77=r, it has been taken for granted that
5 f=I_35 + .i£!_3±i2i+,&c.
ion r J r * 1.2/'* i.2.3rJ
rr4$5)3 I 32s 6za ioz3 1524 , p
bat ^ J    4 +.&=•
Ex. 2.
ALGEBRA.
of Series? J^,v* 2‘ re<iuired to express \/a-\-b by the form of a series.
Because a + b—a^i -f-
?   3 _ 5/ ~J} i / b\*
Therefore A/a-j-6rr Va X v 1H—1 + ~JT
/ b\T . T. b
By comparing ^ i +-yT with (a+A?)" we have (v=z\yx——, 7zr=3,
and substitute as in last example
\.b 1.2&1 1.2.56* 1.2.5.864
' r t/ ^ i-26
j I =zaJ ( 1 -J —
^ + 1 4/ >> *
i~a i' + J.-
-» &c. ^
6a3 3.6.9a3 3.6.9.12a4
+ ^ +.&C.)
81a3
243a*
* • 7'*
3. It is required to resolve   —
J 4 (>3+*3)t
into a series.
Because
(r>+*3).-r‘x0'a +5z3) T» we raise r3-{-2;3 to the •—4 power, and multiply the resulting series
by r*, we shall have the series required. Or the given quantity may be reduced to a more simple form, thus j
because r3-{-i23=^3 X +“)
Therefore (7’*+z3)^==r2^iand.
('!+*i)f=^[+2!j4 = (1+^) T' He"ce
=('^r
(r>+K3)4
= 1-
2%l , 2'5*6 2.j.8g9 2.5.8.! 1 x*
3ri 3'&6 3.6.9^"^ 3.6.9.12r*
2ss:
’ V'1
5zC
40»s
noz11
Sir9
243r
&c.
—, &c.
Ex. 4. It is required to find a series equal to
First by the binomial theorem we have
x/flI +
I
2a
8a3
sj a1—x%
3^+ &c.
^ a' 2<q? 8a5 * *
16a 5
1
16a7
v/ a1 -^-x*
V" a*—.v2
, &c.
Therefore, bv taking the product of the two series,
and proceeding in the operation only to such terms as
involve the 6th power of x, we find
V a%-\~xx x1
a1—«* a
A4 *S
•—^-j &C.
2a4 2a6
Sect. XVIII. Of the Reversion of Series.
271. The method of indeterminate coefficients, which
we have already employed when treating of infinite se¬
ries, may also be applied to what is called the reverting
of series j that is, having any quantity expressed by an
infinite series composed of the powers of another quan¬
tity, to express, on the contrary, the latter quantity by
means of an infinite series composed of the powers of
the former.
272. Jjtt y—n^-ax + bx*-\-cxi-\-dx*-\-, &c.
Then to revert the series we must find the value of
x in terms of y. For this purpose we shall transpose
and put %~y—n, then
%'=zax-\-bx'1 -\-cxl &c.
Now when #=0, it is evident that %—o, therefore we
may assume for x a series of this form,
^=Aiz-f-B«1-J-C«3-j-Dz;4-}-, &c,
where the coefficients A, B, C, D, &c. denote quan¬
tities as yet unknown, but which are entirely indepen¬
dent of the quantity x. To determine those quantities
let the first, second, third, &c. powers of the series,
be;
653
Reversion
of Scries.
4 V*"—**7
6S4 A L G
Of lAjga- he found by multiplication, and substituted for x, #*,
ilthnis, gtc, respectively, in the equation
ozz—'Z-\-ax-\-bxl-\-cxi1 &c.
thus we have
-j-OJ? Qfcj‘& -}- oDi2*-f-&C.
x-bx1— -j-^A*ss*4-26ABz3-f-2^ACK4-j-&c.
-j- iB*254 ^ =:0
4.^*=: + c A3523-f-3cA2Bx4-J-&c.
-f ^A4^4 +&C.
&c.
and, putting the coefficients of z, 5B3, &c. each=ro,
cA-—1=0, oB+^A*=o, aC-}-2^AB-l-cA3=o
GD-|-26AC-j-AB*-j-3cA*B+^A4=o, &c.
these equations give
A=-
a
B=-l
E B R A.
powers of 2, for instance, may become equal, either ex- of Lo^.
actly, or nearer than by any assignable difference, to all rithms, &c
numbers whatever, from o upwards. If the exponents '-—v——
be integers, we shall have only the numbers which form
the geometrical progression, i, 2, 4, 8, 16, &c.: but
the intermediate numbers may be expressed, at least
nearly, by means of fractional exponents. Thus the
numbers from o to 10 may be expressed by the powers
of 2 as follows :
C=
2b*—ac
sfr—sabc+a^d
a7
Stc.
Therefore x— —%•
a
2bi-—ac
a3
5 b3—$abc+6*^
z4-J-, &Ci
2° =1
2l =2
2i.J8S_3
2* =4
=5
,*.3**
2*.S8S= 6
v 2*-807= ^
23, = 8
23t7°= 9
23,j**=IO
In like manner may fractions be expressed by the
powers of 2. Thus
*I=-
2*'
3»*
= 2"
* o —— o***^*337 S*C.C
3—3 37—2
where it is observable that the exponents are now nega¬
tive.
In the same manner may all numbers be expressed
by the powers of 10. Thus,
lo° = 1
io,30I= 2
I O’477 = 2
&c.
10
= *1
10—•699 — *2
IO-.J23 —- .0
&C.
273. As an example of the application of this formu¬
la, let it be required to determine x from the equation
x*
y-x~~T+ 3 4
In this case we have
"f*» &c*
25—y> a—^—““tj c—t* ^—"“" I) &c.
Therefore, substituting these values, we have
*=H-^+ir+^+.&c-
274. In the equation
ay+by'+a/ &c. —a'x-^-b'xt-^-c’x3-^, &c.
in which both sides are expressed by series, and it is
required to find y in terms of a;, we must assume, as
before,
y=A#-{-Btt*-j-CA:3 4-Da;4-j-, &c.
and substitute this series and its powers for y and its
powers in the proposed equation j afterwards, by bring¬
ing all the terms to one side, and making the coefficients
of each power of y, =0, a series of equations will be
had by which the quantities A, B, C, D, &c. may be
determined.
Sect. XIX. Of Logarithms and Exponential Quan¬
tities.
275. All positive numbers may be considered as
powers of any one given affirmative number. The
276. Even a fraction might be taken in place of 2?
or 10, in the preceding examples j and such exponents
might be found as would give its powers equal to all
numbers, from 0 upwards. There are therefore no li¬
mitations with respect to the magnitude of the number,
by the powers of which all other numbers are to be ex¬
pressed, except that it must neither be equal to unity,
nor negative. If it were = 1, then all its powers
would also be =1, and if it were negative, there are
numbers to which none of its powers could possibly be
equal.
277. If therefore y denote any number whatever,
and r a given number, a number x may be found,
such, that I'X—y, and x, that is, the exponent of r
which gives a number equal to y, is called the logarithm
of y.
278. The given number r, by the powers of which
all other numbers are expressed, is called the radical
number of the logarithms, which are the indices of those
powers.
279. From the preceding definition of logarithms
their properties are easily deduced, as follows :
1. The sum of two logarithms is equal to the lo¬
garithm of their product. Let y and f be two num¬
bers, and x and xl their logarithms, so that rx^:y, and
rx'—y\ then rx X rx'zzyf, or r*+x'=yy'; hence, from
the definition, x-\-x' is the logarithm of yy', that is,
the sum of the logarithms of y and y' is the logarithm
of yy\
2. The difference of the logarithms of two num¬
bers is equal to the logarithm of their quotient; for
if
algebra.
! if rx ~ >j and J *’ = y‘, then or r* — x’~
hms,&c. J J ’ rni yt —yt *
therefore, by the definition, x~x' is the logarithm of
"i that is, the difterence of the logarithms of y and 1/
is the logarithm of
3. Let n be any number whatever, then, log. NBr=rt
X log. N. For N« is N multiplied into itself n times,
therefore the logarithm of Nw is equal the logarithm of
N added to itself n times, or to « X log. N.
280. From these properties of logarithms it follows,
that if we possess tables by which we can assign the lo¬
garithm corresponding to any given number, and also
the number corresponding to any given logarithm, the
operations of multiplication and division of numbers may
be reduced to the addition and subtraction of their lo¬
garithms, and the operations of involution and evolution
to the more simple operations of multiplication and di¬
vision. Thus, if two numbers x and y are to be multi¬
plied together, by taking the sum of their logarithms,
We obtain the logarithm of their product, and, by in¬
specting the table, the product itself. A similar obser¬
vation applies to the quotient of two numbers, and also
to any power or to any root of a number.
281. The general properties of logarithms are inde¬
pendent of any particular value of the radical number,
-and hence there may be various systems of logarithms,
according to the radical number employed in their con¬
struction. Thus if the radical number be to, we shall
have the common system of logarithms, but if it were
2,7i828i8 we should have the logarithms first con¬
structed by Lord Napier, which are called hyperbolic
logarithms.
282. We have already observed (§ 277.), that the
relation between any number and its logarithm is ex¬
pressed by the equation r^—y^ where y denotes a num¬
ber, x its logarithm, and r the radical number of the
system, and any two of these three quantities being gi¬
ven, the remaining one may be found. If either w or
r were the quantity required, the exponent would in¬
volve no difficulty ; if, however, the exponent x were
considered as the unknown quantity while rand y were
supposed given, the equation to be resolved would be
of a different form than any that we have hitherto con¬
sidered. Equations of this form are called exponential
equations. To resolve such an equation is evidently the
same thing as to determine the logarithm of a given
number, and this problem we shall now proceed to in¬
vestigate.
283. We therefore resume the equation rx—y, where
r, x, and y denote, as before, we are to find a value of
x in terms of r and y. Let us suppose and
y~ 1 -f-v, then our equation will stand thus,
( I -f-R)1* — I -j-'iL
So that, by raising both sides to the power n, where
n denotes an indefinite number, which is to disappear
in the course of the investigation, we have (1-}-«)«*
1+*;)«, and resolving both sides of the equation in¬
to series by means of the binomial theorem,
„ , , nx{nx—1) ,
I -\-nxa-\   La1
1 ■ 2
nx(jix—1) (nx—2)
* 3
xa
x(nx—1) x{nx—1) (nx—2)
-j-—  « -{—  — -<
S
xa—— -a4-{-, &c.
-FP*«2-KP'«-fQ*>3+(P'^ +QV+R«3 V+&c.
-f-?'—&c.
L -f-p^2 + (p'n + R+ (p"^-f-q’n2+/724)•R4-f-&c.
This equation must hold true, whatever be the value
of «, which is a quantity entirely arbitrary, and there¬
fore ought to vanish from the equation expressing the
relation between x and v ; hence it follows that the
terms on each side of the equation, which involve ?/,
ought to destroy each other, and thus there will re¬
main,
^55
Of Loga-
ritkaii, &c.
r 1)(^—2)(«.V—3) . . „
^ ~ ■ 3 • 4 ° +’ &C-
= i | O
1-2 rI • 2 -3
• 2 • 3 • 4 ^ <*c-
Therefore, subtracting unity from both sides, and di¬
viding by n, we have
x(nx—i)(nx—2)Cnx—a} „
+T - 2 • 3 • 4 -V+, &c.
— 1 ("-*) (”—2) ,
1 I * 2 ^ I ‘ 2 * 3
^■) G-2)c«-3)t
and by supposing the factors which constitute the terms
of each series to be actually multiplied, and the pro¬
ducts arranged according to the power of «, the last
equation will have this form,
*a+(P«— (P'ra -f Qtt*+^) a3 ^ Y"n -f Q'«2
_}_RW3 &c.
4y
&c.
Here the coefficients of the power n, viz. P, P', P"
&c. Q, Q', &c. R, &c. also p, p\p'\ &c. q, q’’ &lc.
r, &c. are expressions which denote certain combina¬
tions of the powers of x in the first series, and certain
numbers in the second ; but as they are all to vanish in
the course of the investigation, it is not necessary that
they should be expressed in any other way than by a
single letter.
284. Now each side of this last equation may evi¬
dently be resolved into two parts, one of which is en¬
tirely free from the quantity n, and the other involves
that quantity, hence the same equation may also stand
thus,
656
ALGEBRA.
Of Loga¬
rithms, See,
main only the part of each side, which does not involve
n, that is,
xa2 , xa3 xu*
x a— + - ~
7+J
- L &c 0r I-OP
4 ^C,J rlthms, See
4-, &c. —v 1 
2 1 3
&c.
?;* V's
1+J
aA a3 a* . o
or (0.— J ——-f-, &c. x—v—
2 3 4
U* , V* Q
__+T_,&0.
Irft us now put A to denote the constant multiplier
(r —i)a
j4
s' - 7
log. (I—t;) = log.
, &c.)
I -f- v
(r-
a2 a3 a4 p . n
 —-J-— “ + » &c* —(r 1)
2 3 4
■I)S
Because log.
By substituting —v for -j-t;, we have
1 / v2 v3
log. (1—»   —
Now, log. (14-^)
therefore, subtracting the latter series from the former>
, , 14-^ 1 f , 2V% , 2Rs ZV1 p X
we have log. — :=-r-l 2t4 r~Z—r-Z-T“> ^cC*/
1—v A \ 3 5 7 7
Put lii—7/ then v=-—and the last series be-
^ y+l
comes
3 4
and substitute for v, its value y—, thus we at last find
1 . _ ^ (y—O*, (.y—0s
»= H’ !/=-£ (y—j—) —  1  —
log.
J A Vy4-i^3\y+1/ ^5^+17 7
(v—iY
4-) ScC’
and by this formula the logarithm of any number a lit¬
tle greater than unity may be readily found.
285. If y be nearly — 2, the series will, however,
converge too slowly to be of use, and if it exceed 2, the
series will diverge, and therefore cannot be directly
applied to the finding of its logarithm. But a series
which shall converge faster, and be applicable to every
case, may be investigated as follows:
This series will always converge whatever be the value
of j', and by means of it the logarithms of small num¬
bers may he found with great facility.
286. When a number is composite, its logarithm
will most easily be found, by adding together the lo¬
garithms of its factors j but if it be a prime number,
its logarithm may he derived from that of some conve¬
nient composite number, either greater or less, and an
infinite series. Let « be a number of which the lo-
... n-\-%
garithm is already found j then substituting —^—
y in the last formula, we have
for
22;
1
+ Z
2Z3
2ZS
2u-{-z ‘3 (2n-j-z)$ 5 (2/24-2;)
5 + 1 &’c*
But log. '—--—log. (724-20— log. 72, therefore
72
7l-\-Z 
n
log. (724-2;)= log.
22;
2z*
22S5
2?2 4-2; 3 (2?24-2)S ~( 272-}-2S)5
4-, &c.
This series gives the logarithm of 224-25 by means of
the logarithm of 72, and converges very fast when n is
considerable.
287. It appears from the series which have been
found for log. y in § 284 and 285, that the logarithm
of a number is always the product of two quantities j
one of these is variable, and depends upon the number
itself, but the other, viz. is constant, and depends
entirely on the radical number of the system. This
quantity has been called by writers on logarithms the
modulus of the system.
288. The most simple system of logarithms, in re¬
spect to facility of computation, is that in which -t-=i
A
or Am. The logarithms of this system are the same
are those first invented by Napier, and are also called
hyperbolic logarithms.
The hvperbolic logarithm of any numbers y. Is there¬
fore (§ 284),
(y—1)* (2/—i)3
 , &c.
and that of r, the radical number of any system, is
2
{r—1)* (7’—i)1
&c.
but this last series is the same as we have denoted by
A ; hence it follows, that the modulus of any system is
the reciprocal of the hyperbolic logarithm of the radi¬
cal number of that system. Thus it appears, that the
logarithms of numbers, according to any proposed sys¬
tem, may be readily found from the hyperbolic loga¬
rithm of the same numbers, and the hyperbolic loga¬
rithm of the radical number of that system.
289. Let L denote the hyp. log. of any number,
and /, l' the logarithms of the same number according
to two other systems whose moduli are 7n and m'; then
therefore — =
772 771'
1—7h1j, l'—m'\j •,
1 V A
and 7?2 : m
l\ V.
That is, the logarithms of the same number, according
to difterent systems, are directly proportional to the
moduli of those systems, and therefore have a given ra¬
tio to one another.
290. We shall now apply the series here investigated
to the calculation of the hyperbolic logarithm of 10,
the reciprocal of which is the modulus of the common
svstem
A L G
fLoga- system of logaritSims j and also to the calculation of
bms, &c. the common logarithm of 2. The hyp. log. of 10
'•■v—may be obtained by substituting 10 for y in the for¬
mula
i' jVy+i/ r
hyp. log.y- +
y y+i ^3\y+
but the resulting series— 4. —(_ ..4. &Ci con.
11 3'ii3 J'n5 1
verges too slowly to be of any practical utility, it will
therefore be better to derive the logarithm of 10 from
those of 2 and 5. By substituting 2 in the formula we
have
,,y,",og- 2=2(i+J¥+7F+7-3’+>&c-)
This series converges very fast, so that by reducing its
terms to decimal fractions, and taking the sum of the
first seven terms, we find the hyp. log. of 2 to be
•6931472.
The hyp. log. of 5 may be found in the same man¬
ner, but more easily from the formula given in § 286.
For the log. of 2 being given, that of 4=2* is also
given, § 279. Therefore, substituting log. 4=2 log. 2
for log. n, and 1 for », in the series
byp. log. (fl-fs3)==byp. log. n-f.2^ —^i-—-4.4.
+t7 ;—&c.)
(2«-f2i)5 1 /
we have
 l r  
2r-\-% t(2« + 2;)*
hyp. log. 5=2 hyp. log. 2 + 2(i + -L + -L+, &c.)
^Ihe first three terms of this series are sufficient to
give the result true to the seventh decimal, so that we
have hyp. log. 5=1 *6094379,
hyp. log. lorrhyp. log. 2-j-hyp. log. 5=2.3025851.
Hence the modulus of the common system of loga-
rithms, or—i—, is found =-4342945. The
same number, because of its great utility in the con¬
struction of tables of logarithms, has been calculated
to a much greater number of decimals. A celebrated
calculator of the last century, Mr A. Sharp, found it
to be
0.434294481903 2518 27651128918916605082 29
43970058°3666566i14454.
Having found the hyp. log. of 2 to he *6931472, the
common logarithm of 2 is had immediately, by multi¬
plying the hyp. log. of 2 by the modulus of the system ;
thus we find
com. log. 2=4-342945X-693i472=-3oio3oo.
291. We have already observed, § 282, that to de¬
termine the logarithm of a given number, is the same
probJem as to determine the value of* in an equation
01 this form, cd—b, where the unknown quantity is an
exponent. But in order to resolve such an equation,
it is not necessary to have recourse to series; for a
table of logarithms being once supposed constructed,
the value of * may be determined thus. It appears,
irom § 279 that *x log. c=log. b. Hence it follows,
Vol. I. Part II. .
*
that .r= j~~. The use of this formula will appear
in next section, which treats of computations relative to 1
annuities.
292. The theory of logarithms requires the solution
of this other problem. Having given the radical num¬
ber of a system, and a logarithm, to determine the cor¬
responding number. Or having given the equation
rr=?/, where r, *, and y denote, as in § 282, to find a
series which shall express y in terms of r and *.
293. For this purpose, let us suppose r=i4-c, then
our equation becomes 3c=(i 4.0)', which may also be
expressed thus:
y=[(l4-a)*j«r,
where n is an indefinite quantity, which is to disappear
in the course of the investigation.
By the binomial theorem we have
(1 +*)■=. 42M+^=L)0.+<=i}(^)„.+&,
12 I * 2 • 3
This equation, by multiplying together the factors which
compose the terms of the series, and arranging the re¬
sults according to the powers of «, may also be express¬
ed thus:
(i-f-a)”—1 4-A«-j-B«*4-C«,4-» &c.
where it will readily appear that
A a a3 a* „
A—y-f- -—— 4-, &c.
As to the values of B, C, &c. it is of no importance to
know them, for they will all disappear in the course
of the investigation. Hence, by substituting for
(i4-«)n its value, as expressed by this last series, we
have
y—(1 4-Aw4-Btz*4-C?^4" »&c.)«
and expanding the latter part of this equation by means
of the binomial theorem, it becomes
3'=I+~(A”+]B«*+&c0+^~y~(A»+B»*4-&c0,
+—3-—^5—^CA"+B«*+» &c.)»4-, &c.
W111 +’ = (A + hn +’
(A* 4- Bn* 4-, &c.)3 (A 4- Bn +, &c.)3,&c.
therefore, by leaving out of each term of the series the
powers of n, which are common to the numerator and
denominator, the equation will stand thus :
y=i4-*(A4-B«4.,&c.)-f ^L^(A4-B«4-, See.)1
*(*—n)(x—2n) , , _
+ ! . 2 .—  (A + B» + , &c.)3-J-, &c.
Now n is here an arbitrary quantity, and ought, from
the nature of the original equation, to disappear from
the value of 31; the terms of the equation which are
4 O multiplied
658
A L G E
InteresthtiJmultiplied by » ought therefore to destroy each other;
Annuities and this being the case, the equation is reduced to
xiA* . #SA3 x4A4 ,
xA
-y=i+—
I • 2 ' I * 2* 3
and since we have found
a* . a* a
1 * 2 ’ 3 ‘ 4
» , .?3 « . p
a  k, &c.
2 3 4
=(r—1>
(>—i)* (r—i)3 (/•—Q4
2 + 3 4 ’
It is evident from § 288, that A is the hyperbolic loga¬
rithm of the radical number of the system.
294. If, in the equation r*=y, we suppose #=rl, the
value of y becomes
A A*
r=i + —+;
AJ
+> &c.
I 1 1*2 * I*2'3
Here the radical number is expressed by means of its
hyperbolic logarithm. Again, if we suppose x=^
then
I * ▼ T T
+, &c.
11
r''zri -j 1 
1 1 1*2
1*2*3 i*2*3
Thus it appears that the quantity is equal to a con¬
stant number, which, by taking the sum of a suffi¬
cient number of terms of the series, will be found =
2.718281828459045 . . . Let us denote this number
i A
by e, then r^^e, and hence r~e . Now, if we re¬
mark that A is the hyp. log. of r, it must be evident
(§ 277. and 278.), that e is the radical number of the
hyperbolic system of logarithms.
x 1
Again, since r^=e, therefore — X log- ^=log. e
• A
and A—here log. r and log. e denote loga¬
rithms taken according to any system whatever.
295. If we now resume the equation
xA a* A* a;3 A3
1*2
i*2*3
f, &c.
log# T
and substitute for A its value , , we shall have the
log. e
following general expression for any exponential quan¬
tity whatever,
l\log. e/ l*2\log. e/ I*2*3\log. t/
which, by supposing r=e, becomes
x x*
e*=i4- + —.
I 1*2
i"2*3
-J-j &.c.
Sect. XX. Of Interest and Annuities.
296. The theory of logarithms finds its application
in some measure to calculations relating to interest and
annuities : these we now proceed to explain. There
3
BRA.
are two hypotheses according to either of which money Compeu«
put out at interest may be supposed to be improved. Interest
We may suppose that the interest, which is always pro- lT'—
portional to the sum lent, or principal, is also propor¬
tional to the time during which the principal is em¬
ployed ; and on this hypothesis the money is said to be
improved at simple interest. Or we may suppose that
the interest which ought to be paid to the lender at suc¬
cessive stated periods, is added to the principal instead
of being actually paid, and thus their amount converted
into a new principal. When money is laid out accord¬
ing to this second hypothesis, it is said to be improved
at compound interest.
297. In calculations relating to interest, the things
to be considered are the principal, or sum lent j the
rate of interest, or sum paid for the use of tool, for one
year j the time during which the principal is lent; and
the amount, or sum of the principal and interest, at the
end of that time.
Let 77 denote the principal, ll. being the unit.
r the interest of il. for one year, at the gi¬
ven rate.
t the time, one year being the unit.
a the amount.
We shall now examine the relations which subsist
between these quantities, according to each of the two
hypotheses of simple and compound interest.
I. Simple Interest.
298. Because the interest of ll. for one year is r,
the interest of ll. for t years must be rt, and the interest
of p pounds for the same time prt, hence we have this
formula
p+prtzza,
from which we find
 a—p
a—p
1 pt pr
As the manner of applying these formulae to questions
relating to simple interest is sufficiently obvious, we pro¬
ceed to consider compound interest.
II. Compound Interest.
299. In addition to the symbols already assumed, let
amount of ll. in one year; then, from the
nature of compound interest, R is also the principal at
the beginning of the second year. Now, interest be¬
ing always proportional to the principal, we have
I : r :: R : rR= the interest of R for a year,
and R-frR=:(l +r)R=:R,=: amount of R in a year,
therefore R* is the amount of ll. in two years, which
sum being assumed as a new principal, we find, as be¬
fore, its interest for a year to be rR“, and its amount
R*4.f>R*—(l-f-r)R*=R3 j so that R3 is the amount
of il. in three years. Proceeding in this manner, we
find, in general, that the amount of il. in t years is R*,
and of 77 pounds pR* $ hence we have this formula
pR^=Oj
which
A L G
tmiiues. which from the nature of logarithms may also be ex-
—y — ; pressed thus :
log- i^+^Xlog. R=log. a.
Hence we find
a fa
p-Rt 5
or, by logarithms,
log. p — log. a—t X log. R. log. R = ■°^‘ a t ^°S~-
log. a—log. p
E B R A.
659
{=
log. R
300. As an example of the use of these formulae, let
it be required to determine what sum improved at 5 per
cent, compound interest will amount to 5C0I. in 42 years.
In this case we have given 0=500 rzz.05, R=i.05,
*=42, to find p.
From log. o=log. 500= 2 6989700
subtract <xl°g» R=42Xlog. 1.05= 0.8899506
remains log. 77 1.8090194
therefore 70=64.42!.=64!. 8s. 5d. the sum required.
-Ea?. 2. In what time will a sum laid out at 4 per cent,
compound interest be doubled ?
Let any sum be expressed by unity, then we have gi¬
ven P=I, r=.Q4, R=i.C4, 0=2, to find t.
From the formula ,=
log. R log. 1.04
•3010300 ,
— =17.7 years nearly.
'017°333
we find t:
quires punctual payment of interest; and therefore the Continued
interest in such calculations is usually made low. Fraction?.
303. Let A denote the annuity *,
P the present worth, or purchase money $
t the time of its continuance 5
let r and R denote as before.
1 he seller, by improving the price P at compound
interest during the time t, has PR*.
The purchaser is supposed to receive the first annuity
A at the end of one year, which, being improved for
^—1 years, amounts to AR*”1. He receives the second
year’s annuity at the end of the second year, which, be¬
ing improved for t—2 years, amonuts to AR*-2. In
like manner the third year’s annuity becomes AR*-5,
and so on to the last year’s annuity, which is simply A.
Therefore, the whole amount of the improved annuities
is the geometrical series
A-f-AR-f-AR’-f AR* * • • + AR*~',
Rr r Rf t .
the sum of which, by § 106, is A  =A   *
’ J s li—i r
and since this sum must be equal to the amount of the
purchase money, or PR*, we have
R# T
PR*= A   
r
and from this equation, we find
p_ ^ / £\ \ rPR* ^_log-A—log.(A—rP)
r \ R*/ R—1 log. R
As to r, it can only be found by the resolution of an
equation of the t order.
301. In treating of compound interest, we have sup¬
posed the interest to be joined to the principal at the
end of the year. But we might have supposed it to
be added at the end of every half year or every quarter,
or even every instant ; and suitable rules might have
been found for performing calculations according to
each hypothesis. As such suppositions are, however,
never made in actual business, we shall not at present
say any thing more of them.
III. Annuities.
302. An annuity is a payment made annually for
a term of terms ; and the chief problem relating to it is
to determine its present worth, that is, the sum a per¬
son ought to pay immediately to another, upon condi¬
tion of receiving from the latter a certain sum annual¬
ly for a given time. In resolving this problem, it is
supposed that the buyer improves his annuity from the
time he receives it, and the seller the purchase money,
in a certain manner, during the continuance of the an¬
nuity, so that at the end of the time the amount of
each may be the same. There may be various supposi¬
tions as to the way in which the annuity and its pur¬
chase money may be improved ; but the only one com¬
monly applied to practice is the highest improvement
possible of both, viz. by compound interest. As the
taking compound interest is, however, prohibited by
law, the realizing of this supposed improvement re-
304. To find the present value of an annuity in re¬
version^ that is, an annuity which is to commence at
the end of n years, and continue during t years j first
find its value for n-\-t years, and then for n years ; and
subtract the latter from the former, we thus obtain the
following formula :
305. If the annuity is to commence immediately,
and to continue for ever, then, because in this case R* is
infinitely great, and therefore , ■ = o, the formula
jLVr
P=—becomes simply P = —.
And if the annuity is to commence after n years, and
continue for ever, the formula P= { I —) be-
rR» V R*/
P A
comes Jr= .
/•R»
Sect. XXI. Of Continued Fractions.
306. Every quantity which admits of being ex¬
pressed by a common fraction may also be expressed in
4 O 2 the
66o A L G E
Contin«od form of what is called a continued fraction. The
Fractioas. nature of such fractions will be easily understood by the
<T"—following example.
Let the common fraction be 3--—--—? ov which is
IOOOOO
the same, 3 4- 141^-. Since 100000=7 X 14159+887,
, 0 1 100000
I4I59 _ I4I59    1
therefore
100000 7X14159 + 887 ^ j 887
and
14x59
3I4I59_
100000
3 +
7-+
887
Now
887 __ 887
I4I59
14159 15x887 + 854 c 1 ^-54'
I5 + S8^
889 „_,„_f3*4i59
and substi-
tutins; this for —-—, in the value of^ already
6 I5I59 100000
, 2141CQ I I
found, we have    h
' 100000 J ' 7 '
J5 +
854’
Again,
854_854
887 854+33
J +
33
854
887
wrhich being substi¬
tuted as before, gives - ^ ^^=3+-
’ 6 100000 J
7 +
15-
1 +
33
:854
02
By operations similar to the preceding, we find
29.
2j+a’33 i+-i 29
. 33 29
substitution,
.3M159_ +£
100000 ^"r’'
j therefore, by
7+-
B H A.
it will evidently be reduced to a common fraction by Contuac*
adding the reciprocal of d to b, and the reciprocal Fraction
of that sum to b, and again the reciprocal of this ■
last sum to a ; now the reciprocal of d, or added
to c is c + ^:
cr/+ I
sum, or
c r/-f-1
, added to b7 is £-f
j again, the reciprocal of this
d bcd-\-b-\~d
cd-\-i cd-\-i
and the reciprocal of this last quantity, viz. ^ ,
when added to a, gives
abcd-\-ab-\-ad-\-cd-\-l
bcd-\-b-\-d
I
6+i. j
f+rf-
308. This manner of expressing a fraction enables us
to find a series of other fractions, that approach in value
to any given one, and each of them expressed in the
smallest numbers possible. Thus, in the example
■314_159 wjjjcii ]ias been resolved into a continued frac-
100000
tion, § 306, and which is known to express nearly the
proportion of the diameter of a circle to its circumfe¬
rence, if we take only the first two terms of the con¬
tinued fraction, and put sr for we sba]j have
100000
*•—3 +4=V nearly 5 and this is the proportion wbicfe
was found by Archimedes.
Again, by taking the three first terms, we have
r=3+7+~
15
-,4.11-333
”3 + io6_io6’
which is nearer the truth than the former.
And, by taking the first four terms, we have
1 _355
1 II3*
W=3+ , I
7-1—
/^5+:
7 + ^J+I 1
i+— , 1
25+Y+i
+7+i
4
By an operation, in all respects the same as has
been just now performed, may any fraction whatever be
reduced to the form
°+£+i ,
c+ —
</+, &c.,
and it is then called a continued fraction.
307. It is easy to see in what manner the inverse of
the preceding operation is to be performed, or a conti
siued fraction reduced to a common fraction.
Thus if the continued fraction be
a+i+i .
r c+5
which is the proportion assigned byMetius, and is more
exact than either of the preceding. The results are
alternately greater and less than the truth.
309. Among continued fractions, those have been
particularly distinguished in which the denominators,
after a certain number of changes, are continually re¬
peated in the same order. Such, for example, is the
fraction
l+- 1
2+- I
‘ 3"^2+- + , &C.
3
The amount of this fraction, though continued ad infi¬
nitum, may be easily found j for leaving out the first
term, which is an integer, let us suppose
1
V~2+- i
3+i+i+, &c.
Then, since after the second, all the terms return in
the
ALOE
Continued the same order, it follows that their amount is also ==#,
Fractions, thus we have
Hence x—
3 + ^
6+2*-f-1
T
and **+3*=-and*:
-3+^
15
Therefore *+1, or the sum of the series, rr
—1 + ^ 15
2
In general if *=r - . 1
a+hA.l
+ &c.
find
-=±z*/~ + -
Though the denomi¬
nators did not return in the same order till after a
greater interval, the value of the fraction would still
be expressed by the root of a quadratic equation. And
conversely, the roots of all quadratic equations may be
expressed by periodical continued fractions, and may
often by that means be very readily approximated in
numbers, without the trouble of extracting the square
root.
310. The reduction of a decimal into the form of a con¬
tinued fraction sometimes renders the law of its continua¬
tion evident. Thus we know 11^1^/2=1.4121356 * * •
but from the bare inspection of this decimal we discover
no rule for its further continuation. If, however, it be
reduced into a continued fraction, it becomes
=1 + - 1
+ 3 + i
~ 2 +, &C.
and hence we see in what way it may be continued to
any degree of accuracy.
311. When the root of any equation is found by the
method explained in § 256, the value of the unknown
quantity is evidently expressed by a continued fraction.
For if * be the root sought, we have *=«+ -, y~b
+ ^ y'=?>,+ y — £"+^7> where a, b\ b",
b"\ &c. denote the whole numbers, which are next
less than the true values of *, y,y, y", &c. If there¬
fore in the value of * we substitute £+ ^ for y, it be¬
comes
BRA.
66 r
*=o+ -—-I
h“+r
and so on continually.
I
Sect. XXII. Of Indeterminate Problems*
Indetermi-
n»le Pro¬
blems.
312. When the conditions of a question are such
that the number of equations exceeds the number of un¬
known quantities, that question will admit of innumer¬
able solutions, and is therefore said to be indeterminate.
Thus, if it be required to find two numbers subject to
no other limitation than that their sum be 10, we have
two unknown quantities* and y, and only one equation,
viz. *+y=rio, which may evidently be satisfied by in¬
numerable different values of * and y, if fractional so¬
lutions be admitted. It is, however, usual in such ques¬
tions as this, to restrict values of the numbers sought
to positive integers, and therefore, in this case, we can
have only these nine solutions $
* = 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9,
y = 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1,
which indeed may be reduced to five, for the first four
become the same as the last four, by simply changing*
into y, and the contrary.
313. Indeterminate problems are of different orders
according to the dimensions of the equation which is
obtained after all the unknown quantities, but two, have
been exterminated by means of the given equations.
Those of the first order lead always to equations of this
form,
ax + by—Cy
where a, by c denote given whole numbers, and *, y
two numbers to be found, so that both may be integers.
I hat this condition may be fulfilled, it is necessary that
the coefficients o, b have no common divisor which is
not also a divisor of c, for if o = md and b = mey
then ax + by—mdx + mey—Cy and dx-\-ey—^—\ but
Til
dy Cy Xy y are supposed to be whole numbers, there-
fore •— is a whole number, hence m must be a divisor
of c,
314. We proceed to illustrate the manner of resolv¬
ing indeterminate equations of the first order by some
numerical examples.
Ex. 1. Given 2*+3y=25, to determine * and y in
whole positive numbers.
*=o-|
i+j.
Again, if in this second value of * we substitute
— for y, it becomes
*=a+l + ^ 1
b'+~.
Ty"
The next value of x is in like manner found to be
From the given equation we have *= ——^ — 12
2
• 1—V
—y+ ' J now since a must be a whole number, it
follows that ^ must be a whole number. Fet us
2
1—y
assume ——— = 3, then 1—y~2% and y=i—22?, and
since *rri2—y-\ —L = 12—y + 53, therefore x —
12—1 + 2*+!2 } hence we have
*=11+32;, y=i—22s,
where
66 2
A L G E B
(ndetermi- where K might be any whole number whatever, if there
Hate Pro- were no limitation as to the signs of x and y; but
Ulems. sjnce t|iese quantities are required to be positive, it is
' 1 evident from the value of y, that z must either be o
or negative, and from the value of a?, that, abstracting
from the sign, it must be less than 4 ; hence at may
have these three values o, —i, —2, —3.
If O, —1, 55=—2, 2= 3.
r#=ii, X— 8, X= 5, X— 2.
ly= 1, y= 3» y= s, y- 7-
Then } x~
2—72 2—32 . r 2—32:
4y=r 2—72, or y= = ; 2, therefore —-—
2 —2%
must be a whole number. Assume — =?, then y=s
4
, 2 At 2—t
t—2, and 32=2—4#, or 2= —=——
fore -
there-
must be a whole number.
2—t
400—9y . T—2y
hence a?= -  - = c 7—y-\ 2.
7 y 7
must be a whole number.
so that
7
Assume
r
-=2, then *=57—^+2, and ay=i
B A.
1—72 1—2
—72 or y=
be a whole number.
>32, therefore
■2 IndetersMi.
— must
Ex. 2. It is required to divide 100 into such parts
that the one may be divisible by 7 and the other by
II.
Let 7# be the first part, and ny the second, then
by the question yx-^-uy—ioo, and
100—ny . 2—4y
V— .. ■ — — I A—If + ■   1
7 ^ 7
hence it appears, that -2 must be a whole num¬
ber. Let us assume-^—^=2, then #=14—y-j-2 and
Assume now —-—=t;, then %~v—t and t~2—3U,
here it is evident v may be any whole number taken
at pleasure, so that to determine x and y we have tile
following series of equations :
/= 2—3 V
2= v— t— 4V— 2
y= 2= 4 — 7V
*=14— ^-f-*=iiv-f.8.
Now from the value ofy it appears, that v must ei¬
ther be = O, or negative ; but from the value of x we
find that v cannot be a negative whole number, there¬
fore v can only be = o ; hence the only values which
x and y can have in whole numbers, are a?=:8, y=4*
Ex. 3. It is required to find all the possible ways
in which 60I. can be paid in guineas and moidores
only.
Let x be the number of guineas and y the number
of moidores. Then the value of the guineas, expres¬
sed in shillings, is 21^, and that of the moidores 27^,
therefore, from the nature of the question, 2ia:-j-27y
= 1200, or, dividing the equation by 3, 7#-f-9^=400,
Assume —^—=v, then y—v—32, and 2=1—2v ;
therefore v may be taken any whole number at plea¬
sure, and x and y may be determined by the following
equations :
2=1 — 2v
y=f—32=7?;—3
*= 5 7—y -f 2=61 —9 V.
From the value of x, it appears that v cannot ex¬
ceed 6, and from the value of 3/, that it cannot be less
than I.
Hence if v~ 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6,
we have *=52, 43, 34, 25, 16, 7,
y— 4> ll> l8> 25> 32> 39-
315. In the foregoing examples the unknown quan¬
tities x and y have each a determinate number of posi¬
tive values, and this will evidently be the case as often
as the proposed equation is of this form, ax-^-by—c. If,
however, b be negative, that is, if the equation be of
this form ax—byz=c, or ax=by-\-c, we shall have que¬
stions of a different kind, admitting each of an infinite
number of solutions $ these, however, are to be resolved
in the same manner as the preceding, as will appear
from the following example.
Ex. 4. A person buys some horses and oxen, he pays
31 crowns for each horse, and 20 crowns for each ox,
and he finds that the oxen cost him seven crowns more
than the horses. How many did he buy of each P
Let# be the number of horses, and y that of the
oxen ; then, by the question, •
, ^Jy+7 . ny + 7
20*=3iy+7, and
Therefore ■l1^ must be a whole number.
20
T iiy-j-7
Let——5.= v, then a?=y-{-v, and y—
20 V—7
II
-4~——-; hence     must be a whole number.
11 11
Let ^—-=£, then y=v-4-< and t>= 1 — t-{-
11 J 9
; therefore 2^~^*7 is a whole number.
9 9
T 2?4-7 , , gs—7
Let — rrs, then v=£-{-.<? and t~-   =4^+
9 2
— ; therefore   is a whole number.
2
Put-—-=r, then t—$s-\-r and s—2r-\-7‘
Having now no longer any fractions, we return to
the values of x and y by the following series of equa¬
tions,
A L G
s=2r-f-7
tz=^s pr-j- 28
/+.y=nr + 35
t/'-(-i = 2or-f-63=: number of oxen,
X— ynumber of horses.
The least positive values of x and y will evidently be
obtained by making r——3, and innumerable other
values will be had by putting r——2, r~—1, rzro,
r~-{-!, &c. Thus we have
X=S, 36, 67, 98, 129, 160, 191, 222, &c.
y=3» 23> 43> 63» 83> I03» I23» I43>
each series forming an arithmetical progression, the
common difference in the first being 21, and in the se¬
cond 20.
316. If we consider the manner in which the num¬
bers x, y, in this example, are determined, from the
succeeding quantities v, t, &c. we shall immediately
perceive that the coefficients of those quantities are the
same as the successive quotients which arise in the arith¬
metical operation for finding the greatest common mea¬
sure of 20 and 31, the coefficients of the given equation
20a;—3 iy-|-7. The operation performed at length will
ttand thus :
20)31(1
20 '
11)20(1
11
9)11(1
9
2)9(4
8
1)2(2
2
E B a A.
663
the greatest multiple of c contained in b, and d the re- Indetenni-
marnder ; and C the greatest multiple of contained in nate Pic
c, and e the remainder; and so on, till one of the re- i
mainders be found equal to o. The numbers A, B, C "r——'
afford a series of equations from which another series
may be derived, as in the following table :
a=A6-j-c, hence we derive xz=.hy-\-v
y=zY3v-{-t
c — Q/d-^-e . v~C
d=Ve+f t=z D.s-f-r
c=rE/-fg s=Er+q
J—F £■ -}- O 7'—Yqz±z/i
and in the last equation of the second series any num¬
ber whatever may be put for q: it is also to be obser¬
ved, that the given number n is to have the sign 4-
prefixed to it, if the number of equations be odd, but
if that number be even. Having formed the se¬
cond series of equations, the values of x and y may be
thence found as in the foregoing examples. We pro¬
ceed to shew the application of the rule.
Ex. 5. Required a number which being divided by
ix leaves the remainder 3, but being divided by 19
leaves the remainder 5.
Let N be the number, and x, y the quotients which
arise from the respective divisions, then we have N=r
”*+3. also Nzri9y-j-5 ; hence 11^-1-3 — 19^4-5,
and 1 !*:=:i9y-j-2, an equation which furnishes the fol¬
lowing table :
19=1X114-8 x=z y+v
11 = 1 X 84-3 y= v+t
8=2 x 34-2 V=2t-j-s
3=1 X 24*1 *=
2— 2 X 14-0 S—2r 4“2
Here r may be assumed of any value whatever.
Hence we have
o
Hence we may form a series of numeral equations
which, when compared with the series of literal equa¬
tions expressing the relations between x, y, v, &c. as
put down in the following table, will render the me¬
thod of determining the latter from the former suffi¬
ciently obvious.
^=2;’4-2
t— s-j-r— gf'-j- 2
r’= 2 i -f- .s= 8r-j- 6
y= v-}- f=iir-f- 8
x— y-j-vzzigr-i-iq
and the number required N=209«4-I57, where it is
evident that the least number which can express N is
157*
31 = 1X204-11
20=1 x 114- 9
n=ix 9+ 2
9=4 x 24- i
2=2 x 24- o
*=1 xy+v
yzzx Xv+t
v— 1 x t-t-s
t=4Xs+r
5=2 X^4-7
And as every question of this kind may be analyzed in
the same manner,*we may hence form the following ge¬
neral rule for resolving indeterminate problems of the
first order.
317. Let bx—ay-f-n be the proposed equation, in
which <7, b, n are given integers, and x, y numbers to be
found. Let a be the greatest of the two numbers c,
and let A denote the greatest multiple of b which is
contained in and c the remainder ; ajso let B denote
Ex. 6. T 3a’4- y4~ 7^=560 7 T° determine #, y, as
Given 7. 9<y-f-2jy 4-493=2920 J in whole numbers.
From 7 times the first equation subtract the second ;
thus we have \2x-\-\0y—\Q00t or ^x-\~yy—^oo\ and
from this last equation, by proceeding as in the forego¬
ing example, we find
a=5oc—51’, y—6v—500.
Let these values of x and y be substituted in either of
the original equations; in the first, for example, as
being the most simple, and we find 724-15^=1560.
This last equation being resolved in the same manner,
we find
A L
6b 4
Indetermi¬
nate Pro¬
blems,
i;=I56o—*]t
—3120
3c=886o—42*
x—?>St —T5°°
G E
and hence it appears that the only values which t can
have so as to give whole positive numbers for x, y, %
are 209 and 210 : thus we have
*=15 y=82 25=15
or x—SO y=40 ^=30.
318. If an equation was proposed involving three
unknown quantities, as ax-^-by-^-cz—d) by transpo¬
sition wre have ax‘\-by—d-—czi and, putting d—czzzd,
-ax+byzzc'. From this last equation we may find
values of x and y of this form,
x—mr-\-nc', yz=.ni'r-\-n'c,
or x—mr-\-n(d—cs), y=m'r-\-7d(d—c<z),
where z and r may be taken at pleasure, except in so
far as the values of*, y, as, may be required to be all
positive, for from such restriction the values of ss and r
may be confined within certain limits to be determined
from the given equation.
319. We proceed to indeterminate problems of the
second degree. These produce equations of the three
following forms,
j, y— —-— II. y— aJrb-~, III. v/ a-\-bx
In all these equations «, c denote given numbers $
in the two first x is to be determined so that y may be
an integer, and in the third x is to be determined so
that y may be a rational quantity-
320. In the equation '^""j ~~ evident b-^-cx
must be a divisor of a ; let d be one of its divisors, then
b-\-cx—d, znA. x-=z(-——: hence, to find x we must
search among the divisors of a for one such that if b be
subtracted from it the remainder may be divisible by c,
and the quotient will be such a value of x as is requir¬
ed.
B R A.
322. It remains to consider the formula yzz Imletermk
a-\-bx-\-cx'1, where x is to be found so that y may be ^
a rational quantity j but as the condition of having x . ^ 11
and y also integers would add greatly to the difficulty
of the problem, and produce researches of a very intri¬
cate nature, we must be satisfied for the most part with
fractional values. The possibility of rendering the pro¬
posed formula a square depends altogether upon the
coefficients «, b, c; and there are four cases of the pro¬
blem, the solution of each of which is connected with
some peculiarity in their nature.
323. Case I. Let a be a square number, then, put¬
ting g* for a, we have yzxi^Jg' -f-bx—c.ra. Suppose
bx -f- cx*=g -{- ?«* ; th e 11 g-1 ^ -f* cxi=g* -f- 2g?nx
-j-m1#*, or bx-^-cx^zz 2gmx-\-m1x'1, thatis, i-j-cxzr 2g'«i
•\-m%x, hence
c—m* J ^ C 771*
Here m may be any rational quantity either whole
or fractional.
3 24. Case 2. Let c be a square number =g*, then
putting ^/a + bx+g*x*=7n+gx, we find a + bx+g*x*
=:7n9+2mgx+gtx*, or a-\-bx=m*+2mgx, hence we
find
m'—a /- , r i"~ _ bTTt—gm'—ag
x=II^'s~d“+l”,+Sx ~ i_2mg ■
Here w, as before, may be taken at pleasure.
325. Case 3. When neither a nor c are square num¬
bers, yet, if the expression a-\-bx-\-cx'i can be resolved
into two simple factors, as f-\-gx and h + kx, the irra¬
tionality may be taken away as follows.
Assume a-{-bx-{-cx*=z*J(/+&*) (A-{-kx') —m
(/■-j-g-a;), then (/+,?«) (^+^a?)=:w,(y4"5'A;)*> or ^ +
kxzz7n*(f-\-gx), hence we find
fm*—h —^-rr7--_ (fk—gh)m
x=k=j^" y~^
and in these formulae m may be taken at pleasure.
321
. When y— if c? be a divisor of bt x will
c-\-dx
be taken out of the numerator if we divide it by c-j-f/tf,
and this form is then reduced to the preceding. But
if d is not a divisor of 6, multiply both sides by d, then
. da-\-dbx , , . ad—be . . . . .
dyzz  —— or dy—b-\ , and so x is found by
c j ■ doc c "t™ doc
making c-\-dx equal to a divisor of ad—be.
Exa77iple. Given x-\-y-\-lxyzzi^^ to determine x
and y in whole numbers.
From the given equation yzz therefore
3QO—2X
277—  
^ l-\-2X
. 391
.! 1 _^z—.
1 I-f-2«
Now 391 = 17 X 23,
hence we must assume 1-4-2*= 17, or 1 + 2*= 23 : the
first supposition gives us *=8, y— 11 j and the second
«=il, y=8, the same result in effect as the former.
326. Case 4. The expression a^-bx^cx may be
transformed into a square as often as it can be resolved
into two parts, one of which is a complete square, and
the other a product of two simple factors ; for then it
has this form, p'+qr, where p, q, and r are quantities
which contain no power of x higher than the first. Let
us assume Jp*+qr=p+mq; thus we have p* + qr
—p*-\-2777pq-\-m'iq* andr=2wjo-f-w25',and as this equa¬
tion involves only the first power of *, we may by pro¬
per reduction obtain from it rational values of * and
jq as in the three foregoing cases.
327. If we can by trials discover any one value ot
* which renders the expression s/a+bx-\-cx* rational,
we may immediately reduce the quantity under the ra¬
dical sign to the above-mentioned form, and thence
find a general expression from which as many more va,=
lues of x may be determined as we please. Thus let
us suppose that p is a value of * which satisfies the con-
ditiott
2
A L G E B R A.
letemii- dition required, and that q is the corresponding value of
te Pro- y then
lenis-
-j-cp2.
Therefore,
y'—tf^Kx—p) +<**—-/>*)—(£+cp+ca?) (x—p)>
and V/^2-}-(^ + cp-f-c»)(*'—p'). The quantity un¬
der the radical sign being now reduced to the prescrib¬
ed form, it may be rendered rational by the substitution
pointed out in the last article.
328. The application of the preceding general me¬
thods of resolution to any particular case is very easy j
we shall therefore conclude with very few examples.
Ex. 1. It is required to find two square numbers
whose sum is a given square number.
Let o2 be the given square number, and **, the
numbers required. Then by the question
and y— \/a*—jv*. This equation is evidently of such
a form as to be resolvable by the method employed in
case 1. Accordingly, by comparing Va*—x* with
the general expression we have gmcr,
b~o, cxz—1, and substituting these values in the for¬
mulae of § 323, also —n for -}-»*> we find
a(n%—1)
y~ —— ■ ( — hence the numbers
2(ltl
-J- I
+ 1
required are
* “ (^+7?
y-
(«2-f-i)a
is any number whatever,
If 0=72*4-1, where n is any number whatever, the
square numbers x* and y* will both be integers, viz.
#*=472* and 37*=(t2*—1)*. Let us suppose 72=2, then
a = 72* -J- 1 = 5, and a* = 25, hence a:2 = 472* = 16,
y—{i?—i)2=9. Thus it appears that the square num¬
ber 25 may be resolved into two other square numbers
9 and 16.
Ex. 2. It is required to find two square numbers
whose difference shall be equal to a given square num¬
ber Z>9.
This question may be resolved in the same manner
as the last. Or, without referring to any former in¬
vestigation, let (at-j-72)* and a;* be the numbers sought,
then (a;4-72)*—at2 =Z»2, that is, 2nx-\-nt—b>', hence
b* 72* £*4-72*
x~ and x 4- 72=—  .
272
sought are
So that the numbers
272
(£*4-72*)*
(£* 72*)*
472* 472*
where n may be any number whatever. If, for exam¬
ple, £*=25 and 72=1, then at= 12 and a;4-72= 13 j so
that the numbers required are 144 and 169.
Ex. 3. It is required to determine x, so that ——-
may be a rational square.
Let y be the side of the square required, then
a?*-}-#
try* and 4A;*4-4Ar=8y*. Let the first part of this equa¬
tion be completed into a square by adding 1 to each
side, then ^x^^\•^x^\^l — l-[■^y^, and taking the root
2a,4- 1= V^i -f-Sy2, so that we have to make 14"%* a
square. Assume
Vro,L, I. Part II. f
>+%'=(i+|4‘
then % = 4
p*
4 jy. Hence by proper reduction y=
ipq
8gt*—p*
since 2A?4-i= v 14-837*=—-- thereforeAr=-~~-
and
**4-*
APT
quired.
(V—/)*’
8j‘—  Sj1—
a rational square as was re¬
Sect. XXIII. Of the Resolution of Geometrical
Problems.
329. When a geometrical problem is to be resolved
by algebra, the figure which is to be the subject of in¬
vestigation must be drawn, so as to exhibit as well the
known quantities, connected with the problem, as the
unknown quantities, which are to be found. The con¬
ditions of the problem are next to be attentively con¬
sidered, and such lines drawn, or'produced, as may be
judged necessary to its resolution. This done, the
known quantities are to be denoted by symbols in the
usual manner, and also such unknown quantities as can
most easily be determined j which may be either those
directly required, or others from which they can be
readily found. We must next proceed to deduce from
the known geometrical properties of the figure a series
of equations, expressing the relations between the known
and unknown quantities 5 these equations must be in¬
dependent of each other, and as many in number as
there are unknown quantities. Having obtained a suit¬
able number of equations, the unknown quantities are
to be determined in the same manner as in the resolu¬
tion of numerical problems.
330. No general rule can be given for drawing the
lines, and selecting the quantities most proper to be re¬
presented by symbols, so as to bring out the simplest
conclusion ; because different problems require different
methods of solution. The best way to gain experience
in this matter is to try the solution of the same problem
in different ways, and then apply that which succeeds
best to other cases of the same kind, when they after¬
wards occur. The following particular directions how¬
ever may be of some use.
1. In preparing the figure by drawing lines, let them
be either parallel or perpendicular to other lines in the
figure, or so as to form similar triangles. And if an
angle be given, it will be proper to let the perpendicu¬
lar be opposite to that angle, and to fall from one end
of a given line, if possible.
2. In selecting the quantities for which symbols are
to be substituted, those are to be chosen, whether re¬
quired or not, which lie nearest the known or given
parts of the figure, and by means of which the next ad¬
jacent parts may be expressed by addition and subtrac¬
tion only, without the intervention of surds.
3. When two lines, or quantities, are alike related
to other parts of the figure, or problem, the best way
is to substitute for neither of them separately, but to
substitute for their sum, or difference, or rectangle, or
the sum of their alternate quotients, or some line or
lines in the figure, to which they have both the same
relation,
4 P 4. When
666
Resolution 4. When the area or the perimeter of u figure is given,
aI Qvonift- or such like parts of it as have only a remote relation to
tn< ai Pro- parts required, it is sometimes of use to assume an-
vittis. otjier fjgm-e similar to the proposed one, having one side
equal to unity, or some other known quantity. For,
from hence, the other parts of the figure may be found
by the known proportions of like sides or parts, and so
an equation will be obtained.
331. We shall now give the algebraical solutions of
some geometrical problem's.
ProB. I. In a right-angled triangle, having given
the base, and the sum of the hypothenuse and perpendi¬
cular, to find both these two sides.
Let ABC (Plate XIV. fig. 1.) represent the propo¬
sed triangle, right-angled at B. Let AB, the given
base, be denoted by and AC-f-BC, the sum of the
hypothenuse and perpendicular by .9; then if *? be put
for BC the perpendicular, the hypothenuse AC will be
—x. But from the nature of a right-angled triangle
AC*=ABi-|-BC*, that is,
b* —*)*=s*—2sx
If*
Hence fr—s1—2sx, and x = — BC. Also
bleros.
ALGEBRA.
ting EF the side of the square in K ; then, because the
triangle is given, the perpendicular AD may be consi- of Geome-
dered as given. Let BCcr^, ADrr/?, and, consider-
ing AK as the unknown quantity, (because from it the (
square may be readily determined), let AK—# ; then
KD=:EF=jo—*.
The triangles ABC, AEF, are similar j therefore
AB : BC :: AK : EF, that is, p : b :: x : p—x. Hence,
by taking the product of the extremes and means, p2
P2 rr t
—pxzzbx, and xz=: r=AK. If the side of the
. P. + b
square be required, it may be immediately found by
subtracting AK from AD the perpendicular. Thus
we have  KD—EF. Hence it ap-
2S
—/>* 
2S
2S
: AC. Thus the perpen¬
dicular and hypothenuse are expressed by means of the
known quantities b and s, as required.
If a solution in numbers be required, we may suppose
.AB—3, and AC-j-CBzrsrrp, then
BC= ’S'1'
2S
—4, and AC——=r 5.
2S
Pros. 2. In a right-angled triangle, having given
the hypothenuse, also the sum of the base and perpendi¬
cular, it is required to determine both these two sides.
Let ABC (fig. 1.) represent the proposed triangle,
right-angled at B. Put c=AC the given hypothe-
mise, and «=AB-f-BC the given sum of the sides, then
if x be put for AB, the base, s—x will denote BC the
perpendicular.
Now, from the nature of right-angled triangles,
AC*=AB*-}-BC* $ therefore, a?*-|-(v—#)*=c(’, or#*-j-
<s*—2sx-\-x%=a* j hence we have this quadratic equa-
tion —sx— —-—, which being resolved, by complet-
2oa—.9*
ing the square, we find X
2a"
«   »♦—  ^
= AB, and
-KD=EF.
p+b p+b
peaj’s, that we may either take AK, a third proportion¬
al to AD-J-BC and AD, or take DK, a fourth propor¬
tional to AD-f-BC, AD and BC, and the point K be¬
ing found, the manner of constructing the square is suf¬
ficiently obvious.
Prob. 4. Having given the area of a rectangle in¬
scribed in a given triangle, it is requii’ed to determine
the sides of the rectangle.
Let ABC (fig. 3.) he the given triangle, and EDGF
the rectangle whose sides are required. Draw the per¬
pendicular Cl cutting DG in H. Put AB=:6, CInrp,
DG— FT'—.r, DE=iIII=:y, then Cl I—/;—y. Let fl*
denote the given area.
The triangles CDG, CAB are similar j hence
CH : DG :: Cl : AB, or p—y : xp : b.
So that to determine x and y, we have these two equa¬
tions,
xy~a%, bp—by~px.
a*
From the first equation we find yzz—, and from the
second therefore ; hence #*-—
Jb b x
a*h # . ,
bx— , and, from this quadratic equation, by com-
P
pleting the square, &c. we find
b , /A* c*Z a* p fp*
xzs.~dtz*J , and y~—n-rpv —
pa*
= BC. Thus it appears, that ei¬
ther of the two quantities fjix/20 ~,v s \J ^ s
, 2 ’ 2
may be taken for AB ; but whichever of the two be
taken, the remaining one is necessarily equal to BC.
Prob. 3. It is required to inscribe a square in a given
triangle.
Let ABC (fig. 2.) be the given triangle, and EFGH
the inscribed square. Draw the perpendicular AD cut-
3
..cPb b* , .
Hence it appears, that if — be less than —, that is,
p 4
1)1)
if a* be less than —, there are two different rectangles,
4 # . .. .
having the same area, which may be inscribed in the
given triangle. It also appears that, to render the pro¬
blem possible, the given space a* must not be greater
v b . •
than —, that is, than half the area of the given tri-
4
angle.
Prob. 5. In a triangle, there are given the base, the
vertical angle, and the sum of the sides about that angle,
to determine each of these sides.
Let us suppose that ABC (fig. 4.) is the triangle, of
which there is given the base AC, the vertical angle
ABC,
A L G E
.(solution ABC, and the sum of the sides AB, BC. Put AC=o,
f Geonac- AB-f-BC=6, cosine of ^lABC=c, and let AB, BC,
•ical Pro- the sides required, be denoted by x and v.
blemt .
—■ v—Let CD be drawn from either of the angles at the base
perpendicular to the opposite side AB ; then rad. : cos.
B : : CB : BD ; therefore BD—cos. BxCBzzry.
Now, from the principles of geometry, ACl=rAB*
-f-BCa—2AB X BD. Hence, and from the question,
we have these two equations,
x-\-y—b, x*—2cxi/~^~y2—a'.
From the square of the first of these equations, viz.
let the second be subtracted, thus we
have 2(1-|-c)A;y=£*—a2, and ixy—
1+6-
Again,
from the square of the first equation let the double of
... . . 2 (A*—a*)
this last equation, viz. ^xy—  , be subtracted,
and the result is x*—ixy-^-y'z
1
2n*—f I-f-c)i*
i-M
, so that
by taking the square root of this last equation we ob¬
tain
y2a*—f 1 +c)£*
l-j-c
Thus we have found the difference between the sides,
now their sum is given ~b, hence, by adding | the dif¬
ference to i the sum, we find
*=~+i
I+C
and subtracting £ the difference from the sum,
b j / 2't*-
/=-—tV  
.( 1 -j-c)6*
x-f-c
If the angle at B be a right angle, this problem be¬
comes the same as prob. 2.
332. By a method of investigation, in all respects
similar to that which has been employed in these ex¬
amples, any proposed geometrical problem may be re¬
duced to an algebraic equation, the roots of which will
exhibit arithmetical values of that geometrical magni¬
tude which constitutes the unknown quantity in the
equation. But the roots of algebraic equations may
also be expressed by geometrical magnitudes, and hence
a geometrical construction of a problem may be derived
from its algebraic solution. For example, quadratic
equations, which all belong to one or other of these
three forms,
x1 -j-ax=bc, x1—axz=bc, x1—ax=z—be,
or #(#-{-a) x(x—a^^bc, x(a—x^'zzbc,
may be constructed as follow.
333. Construction of the first and second forms. Let
a circle EABD (fig. 5.) be described with a radius
in which, from any point A in the circumference
apply a chord AB=:£—c (b being supposed greater
than c) and produce AB so that BC~r; then AC—b.
Let H be the centre of the circle, join CH cutting
the circumference in D and E, then, in the first case, the
positive value of x shall be represented by CD, and in
the second by CE. For, by construction DE=o, there-
B R A# 667
fore, if CD be called „¥, then CE=r¥-fa, but if CE Loei of
—x, then CD=r»—a. Now, by the elements of geo- Equaiiou^,
metry, EC x CDs: AC X CB, that is, x(x'=±za) — bc, > '
or x2z±zax—bc, w'hich equation comprehends the first
and second cases.
If the negative roots be required, that of the first
case will be CE and that of the second CD.
W hen b and c are equal the construction will be ra¬
ther more simple, for then AB vanishing, AC will coin¬
cide with the tangent CF. Therefore if a right-angled
triangle HFC be constructed, whose legs HF and FC
are equal respectively to 40 and 6, then will CD, the
value of x in the first case, be equal to CH—HF, and
CE, the value of * in the latter, izrCH+HF.
334. Construction of the third form.—Let a circle
EADB (fig. 6 ) be described with a radius =r 4«
before, in which apply a chord AB=A-f c, and take
AC-xzb. Through C draw the diameter DCE, then
either DC or EC will be positive roots of the equation-
For since ED=a, if either EC or CD=a?, the remain¬
ing part of the diameter shall be a—x ; now by the
nature of the circle EC xCD=AC X CB, that is, x
(a—x^—bc, or x1—ax——bc> hence it is evident that
the roots are rightly determined.
If b and c are equal the construction will be the
same, only it will then not be necessary to describe
the whole circle j for since AC will be perpendicular
to the diameter, if a right-angled triangle HCA be
constructed, having its hypothenuse HA=4a and base
AC=b, the roots of the equation will be expressed by
AH+HC and AH—HC.
335. If b and c be so unequal, that b—c in the first
two cases, or b-\-c in the third, is greater than o, then,
instead of these quantities, \b and 2c, or in general
- and nc (where n is any number whatever) may be
used. Or a mean proportional may be found between
b and c, and the construction performed as directed in
each case when b and c are equal.
336. It appears from § 333 and 334, that every
geometrical problem which produces a quadratic equa¬
tion may be constructed by means of a straight line
and a circle, or is a plane problem j hence, on the con¬
trary, if a problem can be constructed by straight lines
and circles, its algebraic resolution will not produce
an equation higher than a quadratic. Cubic and bi¬
quadratic equations may be constructed geometrically
by means of any two conic sections j hence it follows
that every geometrical problem which requires for its
construction two conic sections, will, when resolved by
algebra, produce a cubic or biquadratic equation.
Sect. XXIV. Of the Loci of Equations.
337* When an equation contains two indeterminate
quantities x and y, then for each particular value of at
there may be as many values of y as it has dimensions
in that equation. So that if in an indefinite line
AE (fig. 7.) there be taken a part AP to represent *,
and a perpendicular PM be drawn to represent y,
there will be as many points M, M', &c. the extre¬
mities of these perpendiculars, as there are dimensions
of y in the proposed equation. And the values of PM,
PM', &c. will be the roots of the equation which are
found by substituting for x its value in any particular
4 P 2 case.
668
A L G E B R A.
Lot i of case. Hence it appears that in any particular equation
Kijoatioits. yre may determine as many points M} as we please,
' v and a line which passes through all these points is call¬
ed the locus of the equation. The line AP which ex¬
presses any value ot x is called an absciss; and PJM
which expresses the corresponding value of y is called
an ordinate. Any two corresponding values of a: and
y are also called co-ordinates.
338. When the equation that arises by substituting
for x any particular value AP has all its roots positive,
the points M, M', &c. will lie all on one side of AE ;
but if any of them be negative, these must be set otf on
the other side of AE towards m.
If x be supposed to become negative, then the line
A. p which represents it is to be taken in a direction
the opposite to that which represents the positive va¬
lues of x ; the points M, /«, are to be taken as before,
and the locus is only complete when it passes through
all the points M, m, so as to exhibit a value of y cor¬
responding to every possible value ot x.
If in any case one of the values of y vanish, then
the point M coincides with P, and the locus meets AE
in that point. If one of the values of y becomes infi¬
nite, then it shews that the curve has an infinite arc,
and in that case the line PM becomes an asymptote to
the curve, or touches it at an infinite distance, if AP
itself is finite.
If when x is supposed infinitely great, a value of y
vanish, then the curve approaches to AE as an asymp¬
tote.
If any values of y become impossible, then so many
points M vanish.
339. From these observations and the theory of equa¬
tions, it appears that when an equation is proposed in¬
volving two indeterminate quantities x and y, there
may be as many intersections of the curve that is the
locus of the equation and of the line PM, as there are
dimensions of y in the equation } and as many intersec¬
tions of the curve and the line AE as there are dimen¬
sions of x in the equation.
340. A curve line is called geometrical or algebraic,
when the equation which expresses the relation between
n and y, any absciss and its corresponding ordinate, con¬
sists of a finite number of terms, and contains besides these
quantities only known quantities. Algebraic curves are
divided into orders according to the dimensions of the
equations which express the relations between their ab¬
scisses and ordinates, or according to the number of
points in which they can intersect a straight line.
341. Straight lines themselves constitute the first or¬
der of lines, and when the equation expressing the re¬
lation between x and y is only of one dimension, the
points M must be all found in a straight line which
contains with AE a given angle. Suppose for example
that the given equation is ay—bx—cdzzo, and that its
. locus is required.
I ccl
Since y=z —-—, it follows that APM (fig. 8.)
being a right angle, if AN he drawn making the angle
NAP such that its cosine is to its sine as a to b, and
drawing AD parallel to the ordinates PM, and equal
cd
to ~, if DF be drawn parallel to AN, then will DF
be the locus required j where it is to be observed that jioc; ()(>
AD and PN are to be taken on the same side of AE Equation
if bx and cd have the same sign, but on opposite sides l—-v-—
of AE if they have contrary signs.
342. These curves whose equations are of two di¬
mensions constitute the second order of lines, and the
first kind of curves. Their intersections with a straight
line can never exceed two (§ 339.)
The curves whose equations are of three dimensions
form the third order of lines, and the second kind of
curves j and their intersections with a straight line can
never exceed three, and after the same manner curves
of the higher orders are denominated.
Some curves, if they were completely described,
would cut a straight line in an infinite number of
points, but these belong to none of the orders we have
mentioned, for the relation between their ordinates and
abscisses cannot be expressed by a finite equation, in¬
volving only ordinates and abscisses with determinate
quantities. Curves of this kind are called mechanical
or transcendental.
343. As the roots of an equation become impossible
always in pairs, so the intersection of a curve and its
ordinate PM must vanish in pairs if any of them vanish.
Let PM (fig. 9.) cut the curve in the points M and
ni, and by moving parallel to itself come to touch it in
the point N, then the two points of intersection M
and m go to form one point of contact N. If PM
still move on parallel to itself, the points of intersection
will beyond N become imaginary, as the two roots of
an equation first become equal and then imaginary.
344. The curves of the 3d, 5th, 7th, orders, and all
whose dimensions are odd numbers, have always one
real root at least, and consequently for every value of
x the equation by which y is determined must have at
least one real root 5 so that as x, or AP, may be increased
in infinitum on both sides, it follows that M must gooff
in infinitum on both sides without limit.
In curves whose dimensions are even numbers, as the
roots of their equations may become all impossible, it
follows that the figure of the curve may be like a circle
or oval that is limited within certain bounds, beyond
which it cannot extend.
345. When two roots of the equation by which y is
determined become equal, either the ordinate PM
touches the curve, two points of intersection in that
case going into a point of contact, or the point M is a
punctum duplex in the curve, two of its arcs intersecting
each other there $ or some oval that belongs to that
kind of curve becoming infinitely little in M, it vanishes
into what is called & punctum conjugatum.
If in the equation y be supposed =ro, then the roots
of the equation by which x is determined, will give
the distances of the points where the curve meets AE
from A, and if two of those roots be found equal, then
either the curve touches the line AE, or AE passes
through a punctum duplex in the curve. When y is
supposed =ro, if one of the values of x vanish, the
curve in that case passes through A. If two vanish,
than either AE touches the curve in A, or A is a
punctum duplex.
As a punctum duplex is determined from the equality
of two roots, so is a punctum triplex from the equality
of three roots.
346. To
wti
2
Loci of _ 346- illustrate these observations we shall take a
quations. few examples.
Ex. 1. It is required to describe the line that is the
locus of this equation, if=zax-\.ab, or y%—ax—ab~o,
where a and b denote given quantities. Since y*
= ax-^-ab, if AP=a? (fig. 10.) be assumed of a
known value, and PM, Fm set off on each side equal to
A^/ax+ab, the points M, m will belong to the locus
required j and for every positive value of AP there
may thus be found a point of the locus on each side.
The greater AP, or x, is taken, the greater does
sjax + ab become, and consequently PM and Pm the
greater, and if AP be supposed infinitely great, PM
and Pm will also become infinitely great, therefore the
locus has two infinite arcs that go oil’ to an infinite di¬
stance from AE and from AD. If x be supposed to
vanish, then y—z±z.>Jabi so that y does not vanish in
that case, but passes through .D and dy taking AD and
Ad each —
If P be supposed to move to the other side of A,
then * becomes negative, and y~r±rsjab—ax, so that
y will have two values as before, while x is less than b;
but if AB=^, and the point P be supposed to come to
B, then ah—ax, and y— =i=\/ab—gw—o ; that is, PM
and Pm vanish, and the curve there meets the line AE.
If P be supposed to move from A beyond B, then x
becomes greater than b, and ax greater than ab, so
that ab—ax being negative, s/ ab —ax becomes imagi-
nary j that is, beyond B there are no ordinates which
meet the curve, and consequently on that side the curve
is limited in B.
AH this agrees very well with what is known by
other methods, that the curve whose equation is yt=ax
-f-a£ is a parabola whose vertex is B, axis BE, and
parameter equal to a. For since BP and
2/= PM, from the equation abz±:ax—y', or a{bz±zx')
—y', we have flXBP=PM*, which is the well-known
property of the parabola.
Ex. 2. It is required to describe the line that is the
locus of the equation xy-^-ay-\-cy=:bc-\-bx,
bc-pbx
(l c —
Here it is evident (fig. 11.) that the ordinate PM
can meet the curve in one point only, there being but
one value of y corresponding to each value of x. When
then yzz j—, so that the curve does not pass
A L G E B & A.
669
or y=-
a-j-c
through A. If x be supposed to increase, then y will
increase, but will never become equal to b, since y=b
c-px
X anti o-fc + tf is always greater than c+x.
If x be supposed infinite, then the terms a and c vanish
compared with x, and consequently yzzb X from
which it appears, that taking ADzri, and drawing
DD parallel to AE, it will be an asymptote, and touch
the curve at an infinite distance. If* be now supposed
aegative, and AP be taken on the other side of A,
then y—b x ————and if A' be taken on that side •Locl.ot
a-pc—X Equations.
c, then yzzbx -—~o, so that the curve must pass
through B if ABrrc. If x be supposed greater than
c, then will c—x become negative, and the ordinate
wHl become negative, and lie on the other side of AE,
till x become equal to « + and then y=b —, that
o
is, because the denominator is o, x becomes infinite, so
that if AK be taken the ordinate K4 will be an
asymptote to the curve.
If;?? be taken greater than a-pc or AP greater than
AK, then both c—~x and a-pc—x become negative,
and consequently y—b x
X—~~C£—~C
becomes a positive
quantity j and since#—-c is always greater than x—a—c,
it follows that y will be always greater than b or KG,
and consequently the rest of the curve lies in the angle
IGH. And as x increases, since the ratio of x—c to
f—a—c approaches still nearer to a ratio of equality,
it follows that PM approaches to an equality with PN,
therefore the curve approaches to its asymptote GH on
that side also.
I he curve is the common hyperbola, for since b(c
-px^—y^a^-c-px), by adding ab to both sides, b(a
'pc-px')=y{a-pc-px')-pab, and (£—y') (a-pc-px^—ab,
that is NM X GN=GC x BC, which is the property of
the common hyperbola.
Ex. 3. It is required to describe the locus of the equa¬
tion ay*—xif—x^^-bx1.
Xs 1 bxx
Here y3= ———, and therefore y
W:
x3pbx*
a—x * ' a—x
hence PM and PM (fig. 12.) are to be taken on each
• j Isc ^ 11
side, and equal to ^ ~—— y this expression, by sup-
posing #“#, becomes infinite because its denominator is
then =0, therefore if AB be taken ~a, and BK be
drawn perpendicular to AB, the line BK shall be an
asymptote to the curve. If x be supposed greater than
a, or AP greater than AB, then a-—x being negativs,
the fraction ——will become negative, and its square
root impossible j so that no part of the locus can lie
beyond B. If x be supposed negative, or P taken on
the other side of A, then y—z±z*J~xi . hence
c-px ’
the values of y will be real and equal as long as x is
less than b, but if x~b, then   —— ^ A
a—x
/—b3-pb3
= V —a^—=ro, and consequently if AD be taken
the curve will pass through D, and there touch
the
670
ALGEBRA.
Loci of
Equations
the ordinate. If x be taken greater than b, then
-4- JZlOL becomes imaginary, so that no part of
the curve is found beyond D. The portion between A
and D is called a nodus. If y be supposed =0, then
will xi-\-bx*=:Q be an equation whose roots are —b, o, o,
from which it appears that the curve passes twice through
A, and has in A a punctum duplex. This locus is a
line of the third order.
If b is supposed to vanish in the proposed equation,
so that ay*—.vy*=«3, then will A and D coincide
(fig. 13.) and the vanish, and the curve will have
in the point A a cuspis, the two arcs AM and Am, in
this case, touching one another in that point. This is
the same curve which the ancients called the Cissoid of
Diodes.
If instead of supposing b positive, or equal to O, we
suppose it negative, the equation will be ay*—xy'—x3
—bx*, the curve will in this case pass through D as
before (fig. 14.), and taking ABzro, BK will be its
asymptote. It will have a punctum conjugatum in A,
because when y vanishes two values of x vanish, and
the third becomes z=.b or AD. The whole curve, be¬
sides this point, lies between DQ and BK. T-hese re¬
marks are demonstrated after the same manner as in
the first case.
347. If an equation have this form,
y=a*M -f bzf1-' -f cx'1-* -f, &c.
which may be resolved into these two, x—y=0, y—*Aritkt»etK
is found to be two straight lines cutting the of Sines,
absciss AE (fig. 19.) in angles of 450 in the points A, —-
B, whose distance AB~/'. In like manner some cubic
equations can be resolved into three simple equations,
and then the locus is three straight lines, or may be re¬
solved into a quadratic and simple equation, and then
the locus is a straight line and a conic section. In ge¬
neral, curves of the superior orders include all the curves
of the inferior orders, and what is demonstrated general¬
ly of any one order is also true of the inferior orders.
Thus, for example, any general property of the conic
sections holds true of two straight lines as well as a co¬
nic section, particularly that the rectangles of the seg¬
ments of parallels bounded by them will always be to
one another in a given ratio.
350. From the analogy which subsists between alge¬
braic equations and geometrical curves, it is easy to see
that the properties of the former must suggest corre¬
sponding properties of the latter. Hence the principles
of algebra admit of the most extensive application to
the theory of curve lines. It may be demonstrated, for
example, that the locus of every equation of the second
order is a conic section ; and, on the contrary, the va¬
rious properties of the diameters, ordinates, tangents,
&c. of the conic sections may be readily deduced from
the theory of equations.
Sect. XXV. Of the Arithmetic of Sines.
and n is an even number, then will the locus of the
equation have two infinite arcs lying on the same side
of AE (fig. 13.) : for if x become infinite, whether
positive or negative, will be positive and axn have
the same sign in either case j and as ax” becomes infi¬
nitely greater than the other terms bxn~x, &c. it fol¬
lows that the infinite values of y will have the same
sign in these cases, and consequently the two infinite
arcs of the curve will lie on the same side of AE.
But if n be an odd number, then when x is negative
xn will be negative, and a.vn will have the contrary
sign to what it had when x is positive, and therefore
the two infinite arcs will in this case lie. on different
sides of AE, as in fig. 16. and tend towards parts di¬
rectly opposite.
348. If an equation have this form, yxn—an+t, and
n be an odd number, then when x is positive y——yf
* •
but when x is negative y—   j so that this curve
must all lie in the vertically opposite angles KAE,
FAe, (fig. 17.) as the common hyperbola, FK, Ee
being asymptotes.
But if n be an even number, then y is always posi¬
tive whether x be positive or negative, because x* in
this case is always positive, and therefore the curve
must all lie in the two adjacent angles KAE and KAe
(fig. 18.) and have AK and AE for its asymptotes.
349. If an equation be such as can be reduced into
two other equations of lower dimensions, without af¬
fecting y or x with any radical sign, then the locus
shall consist of the two loci of those inferior equations.
Thus the locus of the equation y*—2xy+by+x1—bx~o,
351. The relations which subsist between the sines
and cosines of any arches ol a circle, and those of their
sums, or differences, &c. constitute what is called the
arithmetic of sines. This branch of calculation has its
origin in the application of algebra to geometry, and is
of great importance in the more difficult parts of the
mathematics, as well as in their application to physics.
352. In treating this subject, it is necessary to at¬
tend to the following observations.
1. If the sines of all arches between 0° and 180° be
supposed positive, the sines of arches between 180° and
360° must be considered as negative ; again, the sines
of arches between 360° and 54°° tvl^ Pos'tive, and
those of arches between 54°° ant^ 720° negative, and
so on.
2. If the cosines of arches between o# and 90° be
supposed positive, the cosines of arches between 90°
and 270° must be considered as negative, and the co¬
sines of arches between 270° and 45°° positive, and so
on.
3. When an arch changes from -f- to —or from
— to -f-, its sine undergoes a like change, but its co¬
sine is the same as before.
The truth of these observations must be evident from
this consideration, that when a line, taken in a certain
direction, decreases till it becomes ~o, and afterwards
increases, but in a contrary direction ; then, if in the
former state it was considered as positive, it roust be
negative in the latter, and contrariwise.
253. The following proposition may be considered a«
the foundation of the arithmetic of sines.
Let a and b denote any two arches of a circle.
Then, if radius be supposed = I,
sin. (a+^) = 8‘n oXc®3* c08, aX8‘n* ^ ?
Let
><
| ,:SiW
A L G E
jtLinelic
f Strips.
Let C be tlse centre of the circle (fig. 20.)» and
AB, BD the arches denoted by a and b; then AD
=a + b : draw the radii CA, C'B, CD, and tlie sines
BE, BF, DG*, then BE, BE, DG, are the sines of o,
4, and c + 4, respectively; and CE, CF, CG their
cosines. Join EF, and draw FH parallel to DG. Be¬
cause the angles CEB, CFB are right angles, the
points C, E, B, F are in the circumference of a circle,
hence the angle FCB is equal to FEB ; that is, to
the alternate angle EFH ; now CFB, EHF are both
right angles, therefore the triangles CFB, EHF are
similar, hence CF : CB ( = CD) : : FH : FE ; but
CF : CD :: FH : DG; therefore FH : FE : : FH : DG,
hence FE=DG=sin. (a-|-4.) Because EBFC is a
quadrilateral inscribed in a circle, from the elements of
geometry, we have BC X EFrrBE X CF-J-BF X CE ;
but BE = sin. a, CFzrcos. 4, BF —sin. 4, CE =
cos. cr, BC—i, and EF=:DGrrsin. (g-|-4), therefore
sin. (a-j-4) =:sin. o X cos. 4-{-sin. «X sin. 4, as was to
be proved.
354. If in the preceding theorem we suppose the arch
4 to become negative, then sin. 4 will also become ne¬
gative. Thus we obtain a second theorem, viz.
Sin. (o—4) =rsin. ox cos. 4—cos. oXsin. 4.
Because cos. (o-f-4)=rsin. ((90°—a)—4), and by the
second theorem sin. ((90°—«)—4)—sin. (90°—o) X
cos. 4—cos. (90°—a) Xsin. 4=rcos. oXcos. 4—sin.
a x sin. 4, therefore
BRA. 671
cos. (o-f-4)—cos. a X COS. 4—sin. a X sin. 4, Arithmetic
which is the third theorem. . ^ .
If we now suppose 4 to become negative, then sin. 4
becomes also negative ; thus we have
I heor. IV. Cos. (o—4)=rcos. a x cos.4-{-sin. a X sin. 4.
355* We have found that sin. (o-f-4)=rsin. «X
cos. 4-{-cos. oXsin. 4; also, that sin. (o—4)=ssin.
oXcos. 4—cos. oXsin. 4, therefore, taking the sum of
these two equations, we find
Theor. V. Sin. (o-{-4)-{-sin. (o—b)=z 2 sin. «xcos. 4.
In like manner, by taking the difference between the
equations, we have
Theor. VI. Sin. (o-{-4)—sin. (o—4)=r2 cos. a Xsin. 4.
And, by taking the sum and difference of the equations,
which constitute the third and fourth theorems, we also
have
Theor. VII. Cos.(o—4)-{-cos.(a-{-4)=:2cos.oxcos.4.
Theor. VIII. Cos.(o—4)-—cos.(a +4)= 2sin. a X sin. 4.
If in the four last theorems we substitute na for «, and
a for 4, we derive from them these other four:
Theor. IX. 2 Cos.oXsin. nazz sin. («-{-i) o-f-sin. (n—1) a
Theor. X. 2 Sin. o X cos. sin. 0+0 a—sin. (m—1) a
Theor. XI. 2 Cos. «Xcos. na— cos. («_{_i) a+cos. (n—1) a
Theor. XII. 2 Sin. a Xsin- na——cos. (« + i) a-{-cos. («—1) a
356. By means of the four last theorems, the powers and products of the sines and cosines of arches may be
expressed in terms of the sums and differences of certain multiples of those arches.
Thus, if in Theor XII. we suppose n—i, it becomes
2 Sin.® on—-cos. 20 + 1.
To find the third power of sin. o, let both sides of this equation be multiplied by 2 sin. o, then 4 sin.3on2 sin. «
(—cos. 20 + 1), but 2 sin. a X cos. 2 onsin. 3 a—sin. o, Theor. X. Therefore
4 Sin3 on—sin. 30 + 3 sin. a.
Again, for the fourth power, let both sides of the last equation be multiplied by 2 sin. o, then 8 sin.4 ana sin. a
(—sin. 30+3 sin. o) ; but 2 sin. a X sin. 3 on—cos. 4 a +cos. 20, and 2 sin. a X sin. on—cos. 2 <f + X,
Tbeor. XII. therefore by substitution
8 Sin4oncos. 4 0—4 cos. 2 o+3-
Proceeding in this way the successive powers of sin. a may be calculated as in the following table:
Sin. on sin. a
2 Sin.* on—cos. 2o-{-i
4 Sin.3 on—sin. 30+3 sin» a ,<
8 Sin.4 a— cos. 40—4 cos. 20+3
16 Sin.5 on sin. 50—5 sin. 30+10 sin. a
32 Sin.6 on—cos. 6o+6 cos. 40—15 cos. 20+10
64 Sin.5 on—sin. 7a+7 sin. 50—21 sin. 30+35 sin. a,
Ste.
The
672
Arithmetic
of Sines.
ALGEBRA.
The successive powers of the cosines may be found in the same manner. Thus
Cos. a=:cos. a
1 Cos.*a=cos. 2a+i
4 Cos.3o=:cos. 30+3 cos. «
8 Cos.4a=cos. 40+4 cos' 20+ 3
16 Cos.so=cos. 50+5 cos• 3«+i° cos* a
32 Cos.^ozzcos. 6a+ 6 cos. 40+15 cos. 20 + 10
64 Cos.7o=rcos. 70+7 cos. 50+21 cos. 30+35 cos. o.
Sec.
357. As an example of the products of the sines and cosines of an arch, let it be proposed to express sin. Jo
X cos.ao by the sines or cosines of multiples of o. We have already found 4 sin. 'a——3 sin. 3 0 + 3 sin. o,
therefore
AiithmeHc
of Sines.
16 sin.?o Xccs
T = 2 cos. oX2 cos. o(—3 sin. 30+3 sin. o)
:.*a < = 2 cos. o(— sin. 40 + 2 sin. 2o)
C=—sin. 50 + sin. 30+2 sin. o.
Thus it appears that all positive integer powers of
the sine and cosine of an arch, or any product of those
powers, may be expressed in finite terms by the sines
and cosines of multiples of that arch.
358. On the contrary, the sine and cosine of any
arch may be expressed by the powers of the sine and
cosine of any arch whereof it is a multiple. For it ap¬
pears from the 9th and nth theorems that
Sin. (7? + i)orr2 cos. a X sin. na— sin. (?j—1)0,
Cos. (» + i)a=:2cos. oxcos. «o—cos. («—i)o,
therefore, by taking fiz=o, I, 2, 3, &c. successively,
we have
Sin. oz= sin. a
Sin. 20=2 cos. o X sin. a
Sin. 30=2 cos. oX sin. 2o—sin. a
Sin. 40=2 cos. «Xsin. 30—sin. 2a
Sin. 50=2 cos. a X sin. 40—sin. 30,
&c.
Cos. 0= cos. a
Cos. 2a— 2 cos. a X cos. o—1
Cos. 30=2 cos. ox cos. 20—cos. a
Cos. 40 = 2 cos. o xcos. 30—cos. 2a
Cos. $a—2 cos. «Xcos. 40—cos. 30,
&c.
So that, putting j? for the sine, and c for the cosine of
the arch o, and remarking that c*=:i—s*.
Sin a—s
Sin. 2a— 2c s
Sin. 30= 4c*5—5=—4,93 + 3,9
Sin. 40=: 8c3.?— 4c.?=rc(—8s*+ 4$)
Sin. 50—16c4,?—I2c*s+^=r —20s3+
&c.
Cos. a— c
Cos. 20— 20s— 1
Cos. 30= 4c3— 3c
Cos. 40= 8c4— 8c* +1
Cos. $a=i6cs—20c3+5t,
&c.
359. It it be required to find the sine or cosine of
an arch, from having given the sine or cosine of some
multiple of that arch, it may be found by resolving an
equation of an order denoted by the numerical co¬
efficient of the multiple arch. Thus if the cosine of
an arch be given, to determine the cosine of half the
arch, let C denote the given cosine, and x that which
is required, then the equation cos. 20= 2c*—1 becomes
Cur2a;*—, which equation being resolved, gives
x — '=iz. 1 If the sine be required, from that
of twice the arch being given, it may be found from
the equation sin. 2orr2cs, which, by putting S for the
given sine, and y for the sine required, becomes Srr
2ysJi— y*, or, by squaring both sides, and reducing,
4 * S3 1 1 rir^/1 — S*
y*—y — \ whence y ~  —— 
and
V
The two values of x indicate that there are two
arches, the one as much less than 90°, as the other
exceeds 9c0, such, that the cosine of the double ot
each is expressed by the same number. And the four
values of y shew that there are four arches, viz. two
positive and two negative, such, that the sine of the
double of each is expressed by the same number.
Suppose now that the cosine of an arch is given to
find the cosine of one-third of that arch, then, putting
C to denote the given cosine, and x that which is re¬
quired, the equation to be resolved is1
q.v3—3.V—C, or a;3—\x—— rzc.
4
By comparing this cubic equation with the general
equation x3-\-qx-\-i'—o, it appears that q is negative
and such that ^qz~^!'2qr*, for C is always less than
unity5 hence it follows that the equation belongs to
the irreducible case, or that which cannot be resolved
by Cardan’s rule. The equation 4 sin. 3 —3 sin. a~
—sin. 30 is also of the same form } in order, therefore,
to find either the sine or cosine of one-third of a given
arch, recourse must be had to the methods of approxi¬
mation explained in Sect. XVI.
360. The sum of any powers of the sines or co¬
sines of arches which constitute the arithmetical pro¬
gression o, o+rf, 0+2^, tf+3^> See. to o+wi/, may
be
A L
have already
G E B H A.
•Itimetiche found as follows. We
f Sines. Theor. V. that
—v-—^ Sin. (/?-{-rf)=2 cos. t/xsin./>—sin. (^7-—;
found,
673
therefore, by substituting a, a-f-rf, e+aJ, &c. succes-AritbmetiG
sively for p, we obtain the following series of equa- of Sines,
tions;
Sin. a rrsin. a
Sin. (a+ <f) = 2 cos. Jxsin. a —sin. (a d)
Sin. (a-j-2^^2 cos. </xsin. (o-J- t?)“sin. a
Sin. {a+3d)-=z2 cos. dXsin. («4-2rf)—sin.
&c.
Sin. (a+nd) =2 cos. ^Xsin. (a+(«—i)c?)—sin. (o+(«—i)d)
Sin. (c-f («+ i)rf)=2 cos. c^xsin. (a+nc?) —sin. (a+C*—i)rf)}
Therefore, if we substitute
Srrsin. o-f-sin. (a+c?)-f.sin. (a-f 2rf), &c. -f-sin. (o-f nd),
by taking the sum of all the equations, it is evident that
S-f-sin. (o+(n+i)^)=sin. o-f-2 cos. rfxS—sin. (a—c/)—(S—sin. (o+nrf)),
which equation, by proper reduction, becomes
g_sin. a—sin, (a-f («-f i)cQ.f sin, (a+wrf)—sin, (a—d)
2(l—cos. d)
By proceeding in the same manner with Theor. VII, viz.
cos. (/>-{-d)=2 cos. dxcos.^—cos. (jj—rf),
and substituting a, a-f-c?, a-f-2t/, &c. successively for/7; also putting
C=cos. o-f-cos. (a-j-c?)-f-cos. (a+2<f)-{-, &c. +cos. (a+nrf),
we obtain this other theorem
£,__cos. a—cos. («4-(w + I)^)+C0S* (o+«</)—~cos. (a—rf) 1
2(i—cos. ef) * ,
361. It is worthy of remark, that if the arch d is
contained w-}-1 times, either in the whole circumfe¬
rence, or any number of circumferences, that is, if
9'X36o°, where q is any whole number j then
nd=:qX36o0—d. Thus we have sin.
rrsin. X 36o°)rrsin. c, also sin. (a-f-«c?)rrsin.
(a—d-f-^X 360°)rrsin. (a—e?) $ for the sine of any
arch is equal to the sine of the same arch increased by
any number of circumferences, and the same is true
also of the cosine of an arch. Hence it appears that
in these circumstances the terms in the numerators of
the fractions, which are equal to S and C, destroy one
another, and thus S and C are bothrroj that is, the
positive sines, and cosines, are equal to the negative
sines, and cosines, respectively. Now if the circum¬
ference of a circle be divided into «-|-i equal parts at
the points A, A', A", A'", &c. (fig. 21.), and any
diameter BC drawn, then, if the arch BArro, and
the arch AA'zzd, the arches BAA', BAA'A", &c.
will be equal to a-J-d, a-\-2d, &c. respectively j and,
supposing the extremity of the diameter to fall between
A and Aiv, the arch BA, &c. Aiv will be equal to
Hence we derive the following remarkable
V ol. I. Part II. f
property of the circle. Let the circumference of a ch>
cle be divided into any number of equal parts at the
points A, A', A", &c. j and from the points of divi¬
sion let the sines AD, A'D', A"D", &c. be drawn up¬
on any diameter BCE 5 then, the sum of AD, A'D'S
&c. the sines on one side of the diameter, shall be equal
to the sum of A"D", A"^'", &c. the sines on the other
side of the diameter. Also the sum of ED, Civ D‘%
the cosines on the side of the centre shall be equal to
the sum of C'D', C"D", &c. the cosines on the other
side of the centre.
362. Let us next investigate the sum of the square*
of the sines of the arches a, c-f-rf, &c. For
this purpose we may form a series of equations from th«
theorem
2 sin.* a=ri—cos. 2a,
Thus we have
2 sin.* a ~i—cos. 2a
2 sin.* ~i—cos. 2(a-f-f0
2 sin.* (o-j-2c?)=:i--cos. 2(a+2<0,
&c.
2 sin.* (a-f-«rf)=ri—co*. 2(a^nd)
4 Q
Let
of Sines.
67+ ALGEBRA,
Arithmetic Let S'=sin.» c+sin.4 (a+rf) +sin.* (a+2^)+, 8ic.+sin.*
Then by addition, and observing that cos. 2a-j-cos- 2Cc+^)+> &cc* +co3, i«, by § 360,
cos. la—cos. afa+CTz-f-iV)-j-cos- 2(«+W6Q—cos. 2(a—d)
2(1—cos. 2f/)
we have .
cos. la—cos. i)fiQ-{-cos, lya-^nd)—cos. 2[a—d)
2(1—cos. 2d)
Arithmetic
of Sines.
2<S'—n-
Tn the same manner, by forming a series of equations from this theorem, 2 cos* a— 1 -{-cos. 2«, and, putting
cos.* a + cos.* O-fcO-fcos2 (ff+2f/)+, &c. +cos.2 (a + nd),
we find
cos. 2a—cos. 2(a-fO+i)cO-fcos. 2{a-{.nd) —cos. 2(0—0!)
2C'=«+ 2(1—COS. 2d)
363. If we now suppose d to be such an arch that
(r/-{-l)t/= the whole circumference = 360°, then
cos.2(a+(»+ i)c/)=cos.(2o+ 2 X 36o°)=cos. 2a, also
cos.2(o+«c?)=:cos.(2(o—d) -{-2 X 36o°)=:cos.2(a—d).
Thus it appears, that in this particular case the nume¬
rators of the fractional parts of the values of 2S' and
2 C' are each =0 ; and hence 28' and 2C'are each =«.
We must except, however, the case oi nzzl, for then
d~ 18o°, and cos. 2<f=i, so that the denominator of
each fraction vanishing, as well as the numerator, it
would be wrong to conclude that the fractions them¬
selves vanish.
Now if the circumference of a circle be divided into
rt-f-l equal parts at the points, A, A', A", &c. (fig. 21.),
and any diameter BE, as also the sines AD, A.' D',
A" D", &c. be drawn, then, if the arch BArra, and
the arch AA'rrrd, wre have, as in § 361, AD=sin. a,
A' D' — sin. (a + d), A" D"~sin. (a-f 2f/), &c. and,
supposing the point B to fall between A and A‘v,
Aiv Divr=sin. (a-\-nd). Hence we derive the following
very elegant and general theorem relating to the circle.
Let the circumference of a circle be divided into n
equal parts (where n is any greater number than 2),
at the points A, A', A", &c. •, and from the points of
division let the sines AD, A'D', A"D", &c. be drawn
perpendicular to any diameter whatever. Twice the
sum of the squares of the sines AD, A'D', A^D", &c.
is equal to n times the square of the radius of the circle.
Also twice the sum of the squares of the cosines CD,
CD', CD", &c. is equal to n times the square of the
radius of the circle.
364. We might now proceed to find the sum of the
cubes of the sines of the arches a, a-\-d, a-\~2d, &c.
from the equation
ch. («-{-i)a=ch. sup. a
ch. sup. («-J-i)a=ch. si
4 sin. 3 a=:3 sin. a—sin. 3a,
and the sums of the cubes of the cosines from the equa¬
tion
4 cos. 3 a=3 cos. a-f-cos. 3a,
and thence deduce properties of the circle similar to
those which we have found in § 361, and § 3634 but
as the manner of proceeding, in the case of the cubes
and higher powers, difters not at all from that which
we have employed in finding the sum of their squares,
we shall, for the sake of brevity, leave the powers which
exceed the square to exercise the ingenuity of the
reader.
365. The chords of arches possess properties in all
respects analogous to those of their sines. For, from
the nature of the chord of an arch,
4 chord arrsin. \a, and 4 chord supp. a=cos. |a.
Therefore, if in the various theorems which we have
investigated, relating to the sines and cosines of arches,
we substitute half the chord of the arch for the sine of
half the arch, and half the chord of its supplement for
its cosine, we shall have a new class of theorems relat¬
ing to the chords of arches and the chords of their
supplements.
366. For example, the 9th and nth theorems, which
may also be expressed thus,
2 sin. (rc-f-i) £a:=2cos.4aX 2sin.»4a—2sin.(?i—1)4«
2cos. (n+i)4a=2cos4aX 2cos.n\a—2cos.(«—1)4«
by making the proposed substitutions, are transformed
to these other two theorems,
C ch. na—ch. («—1)«
p. aXch. sup. na—ch. sup. («—x)a
367. Let tfrzchord of a, and y—chord of its supple¬
ment, then putting o, I, 2, 3, &c. successively for n,
and observing that cb. o a~o, we obtain from the first
of these theorems the following series of equations :
ch. azzx
ch. 2a—xy
ch. yi—x{y*—1)
ch. /\a—x(yi—2y')
ch. sa—xW—y' + l)
ch. 6az=x(ys—
ch. 7"=^(y‘—5/+6y‘—O)
&C.
Also, observing that ch. sup. o a^rdiam.2=2, we find
from the second theorem that
ch. sup. a—y
ch. sup. 2a—y%—2
ch. sup. 3a=yJ—3y
ch. sup. qarry4—4y*+2
ch. sup. ^a=y^—sylJrSy
ch. sup. 6a—if—6y4-j-9y2—2,
&c.
If 4—**, and the powers of that quantity be substi¬
tuted for y*, and its powers, in the chords of 3a, 5a,
V*
ALGEBKA.
FLATE XIV.
Ftg. /
OJ
/}*/.
Fu/. A
ii
A L G E
Arithmetic 7a> also in the chords of the supplements of 2<7, 4a,
of Sines. 6a, &c. we shall obtain the following series of equations,
“ expressing the relations between the chord of any arch,
and the chords of the multiples of that arch, if those
multiples be odd numbers, or the chords of their supple¬
ments, if they be even numbers.
ch. arr -\-x
ch. sup. 2a——*a-f-2
ch. 30=:—x3-\-$.v
ch. sup. 4a=r-f-*4—4^,-f-2
ch. sa—-\-xs—
ch. sup. 6a——x6-\-6x*—9»2+2
ch. 70=—x,-\-h]xi—i4A;3-f.7^
See.
B K A. 67^
this equation, by dividing each term in the numerator Arithmetic
and denominator of the latter part of it by cos. a X cos« °t Sines,
may also be expressed thus : u-—y—^
sm. a sin
.b
sin. (a-\-b) __ cos. a ' cos. b
cos. sin. a X sin. b
cos. a X cos. b
But the sine of any arch divided by its cosine is equal
to the tangent of that arch, hence the last equation be¬
comes
Theor. XIII. tan. (a-f 6)=-la-n- a+tan‘ h
1—tan. a X tan. b
These equations are the foundation of the theory of
angular sections, or method of dividing a given angle,
or arch of a circle, into any proposed number of equal
parts ; a problem which evidently requires, for its ge¬
neral algebraic solution, the determination of the roots
of an equation of a degree equal to the number of parts
into which the arch is to be divided. By means of the
same series of equations, we may also find the side of
any regular polygon inscribed in a circle, and in this
case the multiple arch, being equal to the whole cir¬
cumference, will have its chord rz o.
368. The relation between the tangents of any two
arches, and that of their sum, may be readily found by
means of the 1st and 3d theorems of this section. For
since sin. (^a-}-^)=rsin. aXcos. £-f-cos. ax sin* and
cos. (a +*) = cos. a X cos. b—sin. a x sin. b ; therefore,
dividing the former equation by the latter,
sin. (a-j-^) sin. aXcos. £-}-cos* 0Xsin. b
cos. (a-f-£) cos. a X cos. b—sin. a X sin. b'
and by supposing the arch b negative, we also find
Theor. XIV. tan. (a—b)=
tan. a—tan. b
l-J-tan. ax tan. b'
369. From the first of these two theorems a series of
equations may be derived expressing the relations which
take place between the tangent of an arch and the tan¬
gent of any multiple of that arch. Thus, by assuming
b—a, 2a, Sec. and putting t for tan. a,
tan. 2a—  
1—t*
3/—Is
tan- 3°=t=i?’
Sec.
and hence the tangent of an arch being given, the tan¬
gent of any part of that arch, as its half, third, &c. may
be found by the resolution of an equation.
A L G
Algedo ALGEDO, a suppressed gonorrhoea, a name which
|| occurs in old authors. See Gonorrhoea, Medicine
Algiabarii. Index.
> -J* ALGENEB, a fixed star of the second magnitude,
in Perseus’s right side. Its longitude is 270 46' 12"
of Taurus, and its latitude 30° 50' 28" north, according
to Mr Fiamstead’s catalogue.
ALGEZIRA, a town of Andalusia in Spain, with
a port on the coast of the straits of Gibraltar. By this
city the Moors entered Spain in 713 j and it was taken
from them in 1344, after a very long siege, remarkable
for being the first in which cannon were made use of.
It was called Old Gibraltai', and is about four leagues
from the New. W. Long. 5. 20. N. Lat. 36. 5.
ALGHIER, or Algeri, a town in Sardinia, with
a bishop’s see, upon the western coast of the island, be¬
tween Sasseri and Bosa. Though it is not large, it is
well peopled, and has a commodious port. The coral
fished for on this coast is in the highest esteem of any in
the Mediterranean. E. Long. 8. 20. N. Lat. 40. 30.
ALGIABARII, a Mahometan sect of predestina-
rians, who attribute all the actions of men, good or evil,
to the agency or influence of God. The Algiabarii
stand opposed to the Alkadarii. They hold absolute
A L G
decrees and physical promotion. For the justice of God Algiabarii
in punishing the evil he has caused, they resolve it \\
wholly into his absolute dominion over the creatures. Algiers.
ALGIDUM, a town of Latium, in Italy, between v”
Preneste and Alba, near the mountains. On the top of
one of these mountains was erected a temple of Diana,
to which Horace refers, lib. i. ode 21. “ Qucecunqve
aut gelido prominet Algido” and lib. iii. ode 23. “
nivali pascitur Algido” &c.
ALGIERS, a kingdom of Africa, now one of the
states of Barbary.—According to the latest and best
computations, it extends 490 miles in length from east
to west ; but is very unequal in breadth, some places
being scarcely 40 miles broad, and others upward of
IOO. It lies between Long. 1. 30. W. and 8. E. and
extends from Lat. 33. to 36. 40. N.—It is bounded
on the north by the Mediterranean, on the east by
the x’iver Zaine, the ancient Tusca, which divides it
from Tunis; on the west by the Mulvya, and the
mountains of Trava, which separate it from Morocco \
and on the south by the Sahara, Zaara, or Numidian
desert.
The kingdom of Algiers is at present divided into Division of
three provinces or districts, viz. the eastern, western,the king-
- 4 Q 2 anddom*
A L G [ 676 ] A L G
Algiers. ant* southern. The eastern or Levantine government,
-1-5 1 < which is by far the most considerable of the three, and
is also called Beylick, contains the towns of Bona,
Constantina, Gigeri, Bujeyah, Stessa,Tebef, Zamoura,
Biscara, and Necanz, in all which the Turks have
their garrisons } besides which, it includes the two an¬
cient kingdoms of Cuco and Labez, though indepen¬
dent of the Algerine government, to whose forces their
country is inaccessible; so that they still live under
their own cheyks chosen by each of their ado wars or
hordes. To these we may add a French factory at
Callo, under the direction of the company of the French
Bastion.—The western government hath the towns of
Oran, Tremecen, Mostagan, Tenez, and Secrelly with
its castle and garrison.—The southern government hath
neither town, village, nor even a house, all the inhabi¬
tants living in tents, which obliges the dey and his forces
to be always encamped.
ikabi T*16 inhabitants along the sea coasts are a mixture
iMts. of different nations 5 but chiefly Moors and Morescos
driven out of Catalonia, Arragon, and other parts of
Spain. Here are also great numbers of Turks, who
come from the Levant to seek their fortune 5 as well
as multitudes of Jews and Christians taken at sea, who
are brought hither to be sold for slaves. The Bere-
bers are some of the most ancient inhabitants of the
country 5 and are supposed to be descended from the
ancient Sabeans, who came hither from Arabia Felix
under the conduct of one of their princes. Others be¬
lieve them to be some of the Canaanites driven out of
Palestine by Joshua. These are dispersed all over Bar-
bary, and divided into a multitude of tribes under their
respective chiefs : most of them inhabit the mountainous
parts ; some range from place to place, and live in tents,
or portable huts j others in scattered villages : they have
nevertheless, kept themselves for the most part from in¬
termixing with other nations. The Berebers are rec¬
koned the richest of all, go better clothed, and carry
on a much larger traffic of cattle, hides, wax, honey,
iron, and other commodities. They have also some ar¬
tificers in iron, and some manufacturers in the weaving
branch.—The name of Bereber is supposed to have been
originally given them on account of their being first
settled in some desert place. Upon their increasing in
process of time, they divided themselves into five tribes,
probably on account of religious differences, called the
Zinhagians, Musamedins, 'Zeneti, lloares, and Gomeres;
and these having produced 600 families, subdivided
themselves into a great number of petty tribes.—To
these we may add the Zwowa/ts, by European authors
called Azieagues, or Assagues, who are likewise dis¬
persed over most parts of Barbary and Numidia.
Great numbers of these inhabit the mountainous parts
of Cuco, Labez, &c. leading a wandering pastoral
life. But the most numerous inhabitants are the Moors
and Arabians. The former are very stout and warlike,
and skilful horsemen j but so addicted to robbing, that
one cannot safely travel along the country at a distance
from the towns without a guard, or at least a marabout
or saint for a safeguard. For as they look upon them¬
selves to be the original proprietors of the country, and
not only as dispossessed by the rest of the inhabitants,
but reduced by them to the lowest state of poverty,
they make no scruple' to plunder all they meet by way
of reprisal. The inhabitants in general have a pretty
2
fair complexion ; they are robust and well proportioned. Algim.
People of distinction wear their beard j they have rich N——1
clothes made of silk, embroidered with flowers of gold,
and turbans enriched with jewels. The Turks, who
compose the military force, have great privileges, pay
no taxes, are never publicly punished, and rarely in
private. The lowest soldier domineers over the most
distinguished Moors at pleasure. If he finds them bet¬
ter mounted than himself, he exchanges horses without
ceremony. The Turks alone have the privilege of
carrying fire arms. Many good qualities, however,
distinguish them in spite of this excess of despotism.
They never game for money, not even for trifles j and
they never profane the name of the Deity. They soon
forget their private quarrels: and after the first pa¬
roxysm of resentment is over, it is infamy for a Turk
to keep in remembrance the injuries he has received.
In this respect certainly they are less barbarous than
other nations that boast of their civilization. See
Moors.
The climate of Algiers is in most places so temperate, Climate
that there is a constant verdure: the leaves of the and soil,
trees being neither parched up by heat in summer, nor
nipped by the winter’s cold. They begin to bud in
February; in April the fruit appears in its full bigness,
and is commonly ripe in May. The soil, however, is
excessively various ; some places being very hot, dry,
and barren, on which account they are generally suffer¬
ed to lie uncultivated by the inhabitants, who are very
negligent. These barren places, especially such as lie
on the southern side, and are at a great distance from
the sea, harbour vast numbers of wild animals, as lions,
tigers, buffaloes, wild boars, stags, porcupines, monkeys,
ostriches, &c. On account of their barrenness, they
have but few towns, and those thinly peopled ; though
some of them are so advantageously situated for trading
with Bildulgerid and Negroland, as to drive a consider¬
able traffic with them.
The most considerable rivers of Algiers are, (1.) theRjY£rS.
Ziz, which runs across the province of Tremecen
and the desert of Anguid, falling into the Mediterra¬
nean near the town of Tabecrita, where it has the name
of Strut. (2.) The Haregol, supposed the Sign of Pto¬
lemy, comes down from the great Atlas, crosses the
desert of Anguid, and falls into the sea about five
leagues from Oran. (3.) The Mina, supposed the Chy-
lematis of Ptolemy, a larger river, which runs through
the plains of Bathala, and falls into the sea near the
town of Arzew. This river hath lately received the
name of Gena, who rebuilt the town of Barthalaw af¬
ter it had been destroyed. (4.) The Shellif, Zilef, or
Zilif, descending from the Mount Guanexeris, runs
through some great deserts, the lake Titteri, the fron¬
tiers of Tremecen, and Tenez, falling into the sea a
little above the city of Mostagan. (5.) The Celef,
supposed to be the Carthena of the ancients, falls into
the sea about three leagues west of Algiers, alter a
short course of 18 or 20 leagues. (6.) The Hued-al-
quivir, supposed to be the Nalabata or Nasaba of the
ancients, and called by the Europeans Zinganir, runs
down with a swift course through some high moun¬
tains of Cuco, and falls into the sea near Bujeyah.
Whilst Ihe city of Bujeyah was in the hands of tlje 0
Christians, the mouth of this river was so choked upc[eare£i by
with sand, that no vessel could come up into it: but inaccidenu
i555>
A L G [ 677 ] A L G
Algiers. lSSSf vevy soon a^er ifc was taken by the Moors, the
—v—great rains swelled it to such a degree, that all the sand
and mud was carried oft'} so that galleys and other
vessels have ever since entered it with ease, where they
lie safe from storms, and all winds but that which blows
from the north. (7.) Suf-Gemar, or Suf-Gimmar al
Rumniel, supposed to be the Ampsaga of Ptolemy, hath
its source in Mount Auras, on the confines of Atlas }
thence runs through some barren plains, and the fruit¬
ful ones of Constantina, where its stream is greatly
increased by some other rivers it receives } from thence
running northward, along the ridges of some high
mountains, it falls into the sea a little east of Gigeri.
(8.) The Ladag or Ludeg, runs down from Mount
Atlas through a part of Constantina, and falls into the
sea a little eastward of Bona. (9.) Guadi, or Guadel
Barbar, springs from the head of Orbus, or Urbs, in
Tripoli, runs through Bujeyah, and falls into the sea
near Tabarea.
The Algerine kingdom made formerly a consider¬
able part of the Mauritania Tingitana (see Mauri¬
tania), which was reduced to a Roman province by
Julius Caesar, and from him also called Mauritania
C&sariensis.—In the general account of Africa, it has
been noticed, that the Romans were driven out of
that continent by the Vandals ; these by Belisarius, the
Greek emperor Justinian’s general; and the Greeks
in their turn by the Saracens. This last revolution
happened about the middle of the seventh century 5
and the Arabs continued masters of the country, di¬
viding into a great number of petty kingdoms or states,
under chiefs of their own choosing, till the year 1051.
bu-Texe- This year, one Abubeker-ben-Omar, or, as the Spa¬
in subdues nish authors call him, Abu T-'exejien, an Arab of the
e Arab Zinhagian tribe, being provoked at the tyranny of
mce*' those despots, gathered, by the help of his marabouts
or saints, a most powerful army of maleconfents, in the
southern provinces of Numidia and Libya. His fol¬
lowers were nicknamed Marabites or Morabites; by the
Spaniards Almoravides; probably from their being
assembled principally by the saints who were also called
Morabites. The caliph of Kayem’s forces were at
this time taken up with quelling other revolts in Syria,
Mesopotamia, &c. and the Arabs in Spain engaged in
the most bloody wars } so that Texefien having nothing
to fear from them, had all the success he could wish
against the Arabian cheyks or petty tyrants, whom he
defeated in many battles, and at last drove them not
only out of Numidia and Libya, but out ot all the
western parts, reducing the whole province of Tingi¬
tana under his dominion.
Texefien was succeeded by his son Yusef, or Joseph,
a brave and warlike prince. In the beginning of his
reign, he laid the foundation of the city of Morocco,
which he designed to make the capital of his empire.
While that city was building, he sent some of his ma¬
rabouts ambassadors to Tremecen (now a province of
Algiers), at that time inhabited by a powerful and
insolent sect of Mahometans called Zeneti. The de¬
sign of this embassy was to bring them back to what he
called the true faith ; but the Zeneti, despising his of¬
fers, assembled at Amaf, or Amfa, their capital, mur¬
dered the ambassadors, and invaded Joseph’s dominions
’neti with an army of 50,000 men.
strayed* The king hearing of their infamous proceedings,
speedily mustered his army, and led it by long marches Algiers*
into their country, destroying all with fire and sword } v —
while the Zeneti, instead of opposing his progress, re¬
tired as fast as possible towards Fez, in hopes of recei¬
ving assistance from thence. In this they'were miserably
deceived : the Fezzans marched out against them in a
hostile manner, and coming up with the unhappy Ze¬
neti, encumbered with their families and baggage, and
ready to expire with hunger and weariness, they cut
them all to pieces, except a small number who were
mostly drowned in attempting to swim across a river,
and some others who in their flight perished by fail¬
ing from the high adjacent rocks. In the mean time
Joseph reduced their country to a mere desert: which
was, however, soon peopled by a numerous colony of
Fezzans, who settled there under the protection of the
reigning kings. In this war it is computed that near a
million of the Zeneti, men, women, and children, lost
their lives.
The restless and ambitious temper of Joseph did not
let him remain long at peace. He quickly declared
war against the Fezzans, reduced them to become his
tributaries, and extended his conquests all along the
Mediterranean. He next attacked some Arabian cheyks
who had not yet submitted to his jurisdiction ; and pur¬
sued them with such fury, that neither the Libyan de¬
serts, nor ridges of the most craggy rocks, could shel¬
ter them from his arms. He attacked them in such of
their retreats, castles, and fortresses, as were till then
deemed impregnable and at last subdued them, to the
great grief of the other African nations, who were
greatly annoyed by the ravages committed by his nu¬
merous forces.
Thus was founded the empire of the Morabites :
which, however, ivas of no long duration : that race
being in the 12th century driven out by Mohavedin,.
a marabout. This race of priests was expelled by Ab- Sharif; ®fs
dulac governor of Fez ; and he, in the 13th century, Haseen
stripped of his new conquests by the sharifs of Hascen^
the descendants of those Arabian princes whom Abu-
Texefien had formerly expelled.
The better to secure their new dominions, the sha¬
rifs divided them into several little kingdoms or pro¬
vinces ; and among the rest the present kingdom of
Algiers was divided into four, namely, Tremecen, Te-
ncK, Algiers Proper, and Pujcyah. The four first mo-
narchs laid so good a foundation for a lasting balance
of power between their little kingdoms, that they conti¬
nued for some centuries in mutual peace and amity }
but at length the king of Tremecen having ventured
to violate some of their articles, Abul-Farez, king of
Tenez, declared war against him, and obliged him to
become his tributary. This king dying soon after, and
having divided his kingdom among his three sons,
new discords arose } which Spain taking advantage of,
a powerful fleet and army was sent against Barbary,
under the count of Navarre, in 1505. This com-A}gen-ac3s
mander soon made himself master of the important ci-in danger ,
ties of Oran, Bujeyah, and some others; which so from the
alarmed the Algerines, that they put themselves under
the protection of Selim Eutemi, a noble and warlike
Arabian prince. He came to their assistance with a
great number of his bravest subjects, bringing with him
his wife Zaphira, and a son then about 12 years old.
This, however, was not sufficient to prevent the Spa¬
niards-
Algiers.
Iimte Bar
barossa.
His treach¬
ery and
cruelty.
A L G [ 678 ] A L G
nlards from landing a number of forces near Algiers
that same year, and obliging that metropolis to become
tributary to Spain. Nor could Prince Selim hinder
them from building a strong fort on a small island op¬
posite to the city, which terrified their corsairs from
sailing either in or out of the harbour.
To this galling yoke the Algerines were obliged to
submit till the year 1516 ; when, hearing of the death
of Ferdinand king of Spain, they sent an embassy to
Aruch Barbarossa, who was at this time no less dread¬
ed for his valour that, his surprising success, and was
then sent on a cruise with a squadron of galleys and
barks. The purport of the embassy was, that he should
come and free them from the Spanish yoke ; for which
they agreed to pay him a gratuity answerable to so
great a service. Upon this Barbarossa immediately
despatched 18 galleys and 30 barks to the assistance of
the Algerines : while he himself advanced towards the
city with 800 Turks, 3000 Jigelites, and 2000 Moor¬
ish volunteers. Instead of taking the nearest road to
Algiers, he directed his course towards Sharshel, where
Hassan, another famed corsair, had settled himself.
Him he surprised, and obliged to surrender ; not with¬
out a previous promise of friendship : but no sooner had
Barbarossa got him in his power, than he cut off his
head j and obliged all Hassan’s Turks to follow him in
his new expedition.
On Barbarossa’s approach to Algiers, he was met
by Prince F.utemi, attended by all the people of that
metropolis, great and small ; who looked for deliver¬
ance from this abandoned villain, whom they account¬
ed invincible. He was conducted into the city amidst
the acclamations of the people, and lodged in one of
the noblest apartments of Prince Eutemi’s palace,
where he was treated with the greatest marks of di¬
stinction. Elated beyond measure with this kind re¬
ception, Barbarossa formed a design of becoming king
of Algiers; and fearing some opposition from the in¬
habitants, on account of the excesses he suffered his sol¬
diers to commit, murdered Prince Eutemi, and caused
himself to be proclaimed king j his Turks and Moors
crying out as he rode along the streets, “ Long live
King Aruch Barbarossa, the invincible king of Algiers,
the chosen of God to deliver the people from the oppres¬
sion of the Christians $ and destruction to all that shall
oppose, or refuse to own him for their lawful so¬
vereign.” These last threatening words so intimida¬
ted the inhabitants, already apprehensive of a gene¬
ral massacre, that he was immediately acknowledged
king. The unhappy princess Zaphira, it is said, poi¬
soned herself, to avoid the brutality of this new' king,
whom she unsuccessfully endeavoured to stab with a
dagger.
Barbarossa was no sooner seated on the throne, than
he treated his subjects with such cruelty, that they
used to shut up their houses and hide themselves when
he appeared in public. In consequence of this, a plot
was soon formed against him *, but being discovered,
he caused twenty of the principal conspirators to be
beheaded, their bodies to be buried in a dunghill, and
laid a heavy fine on those who survived. This so ter¬
rified the Algerines, that they never afterwards durst
attempt any thing against either Barbarossa or his suc¬
cessors.
In the mean time, the son of Prince Eutemi having
3
fled to Oran, and put himself under the protection of
the marquis of Gomarez, laid before that nobleman a
plan for putting the city of Algiers into the hands of
the king of Spain. Upon this, young Selim Eutemi
was sent to Spain, to lay his plan before Cardinal Xi-
menes j who having approved of it, sent a fleet with
10,000 land forces, under the command of Don Fran¬
cisco, or, as others call him, Don Diego de Vera, to
drive out the Turks, and restore the young prince.
But the fleet was no sooner come within sight of land,
than it was dispersed by a storm, and the greatest part
of the ships dashed against the rocks. Most of the
Spaniards were drowned ; and the few who escaped to
shore were either killed by the Turks or made slaves.
Though Barbarossa had nothing to boast on this oc¬
casion, his pride and insolence were now swelled to
such a degree, that he imagined himself invincible,
and that the very elements conspired to make him so.
The Arabians were so much alarmed at his success,
that they implored the assistance of Hamid el Abdes
king of Tenez, to drive the Turks out of Algiers.
That prince readily undertook to do what was in his
power for this purpose, provided they agreed to settle
the kingdom on himself and his descendants. This
proposal being accepted, he immediately set out at the
head of 10,000 Moors j and, upon his entering the
Algerine dominions, was joined by all the Arabians
in the country. Barbarossa engaged him, with only
1000 Turkish musqueteers and 500 Granada Moors 5
totally defeated his numerous army; pursued him to
the very gates of his capital, which he easily made
himself master of j and having given it up to be plun¬
dered by the Turks, obliged the inhabitants to ac¬
knowledge him as their sovereign. This victory, how¬
ever, was chiefly owing to the advantage which his
troops had from their fire-arms ; the enemy having no
other weapons than arrows and javelins.
No sooner was Barbarossa become master of the
kingdom of Tenez, than he received an embassy from
the inhabitants of Tremecen; inviting him to come to
their assistance against their then reigning prince, with
whom they were dissatisfied on account of his having
dethroned his nephew, and forced him to fly to Orau
offering him even the sovereignty, in case he accepted
of their proposal. The king of Tremecen, not su¬
specting the treachery of his subjects, met the tyrant
with an army of 6000 horse and 3000 foot : but Bar¬
barossa’s artillery gave him such an advantage, that
the king was at length forced to retire into the capi¬
tal ; which he had no sooner entered, than his head
was cut off, and sent to Barbarossa, with a fresh invi¬
tation to come and take possession of the kingdom.
On his approach, he was met with by the inhabitants,
whom he received with complaisance, and many fair
promises $ but beginning to tyrannize as usual, his
new subjects soon convinced him that they were not so
passive as the inhabitants of Algiers. Apprehending,
therefore, that his reign might prove uneasv and pre¬
carious, he entered into an alliance with the king of
I ez ; after which, he took care to secure the rest of
the cities in his new' kingdom, by garrisoning them
with his own troops. Some of these, however, revolt¬
ed soon after j upon which he sent one of his corsairs,
named Fscander, a man no less cruel than himself, to
reduce them. The Tremecenians now began to re-
pent
A L G [ 679 ] A L G
l^itrs. pent in good earnest of their having invited such a tv-
-v rant to their assistance ; and held consultations on the
most proper means oi driving him away, and bringing
back their lawful prince Abuchen Men; but their ca¬
bals being discovered, a great number of the conspira¬
tors were massacred in the most cruel manner. The
prince had the good luck to escape to Oran, and was
taken under the protection ot the marquis of Gomarez,
who sent immediate advice of it to Charles V. then
lately arrived in Spain, with a powerful fleet and army.
That monarch immediately ordered the young king a
succour of 10,000 men, under the command of the go¬
vernor of Oran ; who, under the guidance of Abu¬
chen Men, began his march towards Tremecen ; and
in their way they were joined by Prince Selim, with a
great number of Arabs and Moors. The first thing
they resolved upon was, to attack the important for¬
tress of Calau, situated between Tremecen and Algiers,
and commanded by the corsair Escander at the head
of about 300 Turks. They invested it closely on all
sides, in hopes Barbarossa would come out of Treme¬
cen to its relief, which would give the Tremecenians
an opportunity of keeping him out. That tyrant, how¬
ever, kept close in his capital, being embarrassed by
his fears of a revolt, and the politic delays of the king
of Fez, who had not sent the auxiliaries he promised.
The garrison of Calau, in the mean time, made a brave
defence 5 and, in a sally they made at night, cut off
near 300 Spaniards. This encouraged them to ven¬
ture a second time j but they were now repulsed with
great loss, and Escander himself wounded : soon after
which, they surrendered upon honourable terms ; but
were all massacred by the Arabians, except 16, who
clung close to the stirrups of the king and of the Spa¬
nish general.
Barbarossa being now informed that Abuchen Men,
with his Arabs, accompanied by the Spaniards, were
in full march to lay siege to Tremecen, thought pro¬
per to come out, at the head of 1500 Turks and 5000
Moorish horse, in order to break his way through the
enemy ; but he had not proceeded far from the city,
before his council advised him to return and fortify
himself in it. This advice was now too late ; the inha¬
bitants being resolved to keep him out, and open their
gates to their own lawful prince as soon as he appear¬
ed. In this distress Barbarossa saw no way left hut to
retire to the citadel, and there to defend himself till he
could find an opportunity of stealing out with his men
and all his treasure. Here he defended himself vigo¬
rously ; but his provisions failing him, he took advan¬
tage of a subterraneous back way, which he had caused
to be digged up for that purpose ; and, taking his im¬
mense treasure with him, stole away as secretly as he
could. His flight, however, was soon discovered j and
he was so closely pursued, that to amuse, as he hoped,
the enemy, he caused a great deal of his money, plate,
jewels, &c. to be scattered all the way, thinking they
would not fail to stop their pursuit to gather it up. This
stratagem, however, failed, through the vigilance of
the Spanish commander, who being himself at the head
of the pursuers, obliged them to march on, till he was
come up close to him on the banks of the Huexda,
about eight leagues from Tremecen. Barbarossa had
just crossed the river, with his vanguard, when the Spa¬
niards came up with his rear on the, other sideband cut
them all off 5 and then crossing the water, overtook him Algiers.
at a small distance from it. Here a bloody engagement 1 v——'
ensued, in which the Turks fought like as many lions ; barbarossa
but, being at length overpowered by numbers, they
were all cut to pieces, and Barbarossa among the rest, by the Si>a,.
m the 44th year of his age, and four years after he hadniards.
raised himself to the royal title of J/gel and the adja¬
cent country, two years after he had acquired the so¬
vereignty of Algiers, and scarcely a twelvemonth after
the reduction ot Tremecen. His head was carried to
Tremecen on the point of a spear j and Abuchen Men
proclaimed king, to the joy of all the inhabitants. A
few days after the fight, the king of Fez made his ap¬
pearance at the head of 20,000 horse, near the field of
battle ; but hearing of Barbarossa’s defeat and death,
marched off with all possible speed, to avoid being at¬
tacked by the enemy.
The news of Barbarossa’s death spread the utmost Succeeded
consternation among the Turks at Algiers : however, by Hayra-
they caused his brother Hayradin to be immediately^11’
proclaimed king. I he Spanish commander now sent
back the emperor’s forces, without making any at¬
tempt upon Algiers } by which he lost the opportunity
of driving the Turks out of that country j while Hay¬
radin, justly dreading the consequences of the tyranny
of his officers, sought the protection of the Grand Sig-
nior. This was readily granted, and himself appointed
bashaw or viceroy of Algiers 5 by which means he re¬
ceived such considerable reinforcements, that the un¬
happy Algerines durst not make the least complaint 5
and such numbers of Turks resorted to him, that he
was not only capable of keeping the Moors and Arabs
in subjection at home, but of annoying the Christians at
sea. His first step was to take the Spanish fort above He takes
mentioned, which was a great nuisance to his metropo-the Spanish;'
lis. The Spaniards held out to the last extremity 5 butlort'
being all slain or wounded, Hayradin easily became
master of the place.
Hayradin next set about building a strong mole for
the safety of his ships. In this he employed 30,000
Christian slaves, whom he obliged to work without in¬
termission for three years ; in which time the work was
completed. He then caused the fort he had taken from
the Spaniards to be repaired, and placed a strong gar¬
rison in it, to prevent any foreign vessels from entering
the harbour without giving an account of themselves.
By these two important works, Hayradin soon became
dreaded not only by the Arabs and Moors, but also by
the maritime Christian powers, especially the Spaniards.
The viceroy failed not to acquaint the Grand Signior
with his success, and obtained from him a fresh supply
of money, by which he was enabled to build a stronger
fort, and to erect batteries on all places that might fa¬
vour the landing of an enemy. All these have since
received gi'eater improvements from time to time, as
often as there was occasion for them.
In the mean time the sultan, either out of a sense ofSucceeded
the great services Hayradin had done, or perhaps outby Hasian
of jealousy lest he should make himself independent,
raised Hayradin to the dignity of bashaw of the em¬
pire, and appointed Hassan Aga, a Sardinian renega¬
de, an intrepid warrior, and an experienced officer,
to succeed him as bashaw of Algiers. Hassan had no
sooner taken possession of his new government, than he
began to pursue his ravages on the Spanish coast with
greater;
A L G
[ 63o ]
A L G
A'sier?.
Greater fury tlian ever 5 extending them to the cede-
siastical state, and other parts of Italy. But Pope
Charles V’spau| XII. being alarmed at this, exhorted the emperor
expedition Qiar]es y. to send a powerful fleet to suppress those
Al'frequent and cruel piracies*, and that nothing might
be wanting to render the enterprise successful, a bull
was published by his holiness, wherein a plenary abso¬
lution of sins, and the crown of martyrdom, were pro¬
mised to all those who either fell in battle, or were
made slaves ; the emperor on his part needed no spur 5
and therefore set sail at the head of a powerful fleet,
consisting of 120 ships and 20 galleys, having on board
30,000 chosen troops, and an immense quantity of mo¬
ney, arms, ammunition, &c. In this expedition many
young nobility and gentry attended as volunteers, and
among these many knights of Malta, so remarkable for
their valour against the enemies of Christianity. Even
ladies of birth and character attended Charles in his
expedition, and the wives and daughters of the officers
and soldiers followed them with a design to settle in
Barbary after the conquest was finished. All these meet¬
ing with a favourable wind, soon appeared before Al¬
giers $ every ship displaying the Spanish colours on the
stern, and another at the head, with a crucifix to serve
them for a pilot.
Algiers in By this prodigious armament, the Algerines were
great con- thrown into the utmost consternation. The city was
sternation. surrounded only by a wall with scarce any outworks.
The whole garrison consisted of 800 Turks and 6000
Moors, without fire-arms, and poorly disciplined and
accoutred 5 the rest of their forces being dispersed in
the other provinces of the kingdom, to levy the usual
tribute on the Arabs and Moors. The Spaniards land¬
ed without opposition, and immediately built a fort,
under the cannon of which they encamped, and diverted
the course of a spring which supplied the city with wa¬
ter. Being now reduced to the utmost distress, Has-
san received a summons to surrender at discretion, on
I*ain of being put to the sword with all the garrison.
The herald was ordered to extol the vast power of the
emperor both by sea and land, and to exhort him to
return to the Christian religion. But to this Hassan
only replied, that he must be a madman who would
pretend to advise an enemy, and that the advised must
still act more madly who would take counsel of such an
adviser. He was, however, on the point of surrender¬
ing the city, when advice was brought him that the
forces belonging to the western government were in
full march towards the place. Upon which it was re¬
solved to defend it to the utmost. Charles, in the mean
time, resolving upon a general assault, kept a constant
firing upon the town j which, from the weak defence
made by the garrison, he looked upon as already in
his hands. But while the doivan, or Algerine senate,
were deliberating on the most proper means of obtain¬
ing an honourable capitulation, a mad prophet, attend¬
ed by a multitude of people, entered the assembly, and
foretold the speedy destruction of the Spaniards before
the end of the moon, exhorting the inhabitants to hold
out till that time. This prediction was soon accom¬
plished in a very surprising and unexpected manner: for,
on the 28th of October 1541, a dreadful storm of wind,
rain, and hail, arose from the north, accompanied with
violent shocks of earthquakes, and a dismal and uni¬
versal darkness both by sea and land j so that the sun
Prevented
by a mad
prophet
from sur¬
rendering.
moon, and elements, seemed to combine together for the
destruction of the Spaniards. In that one night, some
Algiers,
say in less than half an hour, 86 ships and 15 galleys Spanish
were destroyed, with all their crews and military stores 5 fleet
by which the army on shore was deprived of all means a slorm ?
of subsisting in these parts. Their camp also, which
spread itself along the plain under the fort, was laid
quite under water by the torrents which descended from
the neighbouring hills. Many of the troops, by trying
to remove into some better situation, were cut in pieces
by the Moors and Arabs $ while several galleys and other
vessels, endeavouring to gain some neighbouring creeks
along the coasts, were immediately plundered, and their
crews massacred, by the inhabitants.
The next morning Charles beheld the sea covered Sicg« of
with the fragments of so many ships, and the bodies of A,gier*
men, horses, and other creatures, swimming on theraiied*
waves; at which he was so disheartened, that abandon¬
ing his tents, artillery, and all his heavy baggage, to
the enemy, he marched at the head of his army, though
in no small disorder, towards Cape Malabux, in order
to reimbark in those few vessels which had outweathered
the storm. But Hassan, who had caused his motions to
be jvatched, allowed him just time to get to the shore,
when he sallied out and attacked the Spaniards in the
midst of their hurry and confusion to get into their ships,
killing great numbers, and bringing away a still great¬
er number of captives; after which he returned in
triumph to Algiers, where he celebrated with great
rejoicings his happy deliverance from such distress and
danger.
Soon after this, the prophet Yiisef, who had foretold The mad
the destruction of the Spaniards, was not only declared prophet
the deliverer of his country, but had a considerable rewar(l*^
gratuity decreed him, with the liberty of exercising his
prophetic function unmolested. It was not long, how¬
ever, before the marabouts, and some interpreters of
the law, made a strong opposition against him ; remon¬
strating to the bashaw, how ridiculous and scandalous it
was to their nation, to ascribe the deliverance of it to a
poor fortune-teller, which had been obtained by the fer¬
vent prayers of an eminent saint of their own profession.
But though the bashaw and his dowan seemed, out of
policy, to give into this last notion, yet the impression
which Yusef’s predictions and their late accomplishment
had made upon the minds of the common people, proved
too strong to be eradicated ; and the spirit of divination
and conjuring has since got into such credit among
them, that not only their great statesmen, but their
priests, marabouts, and santoons, have applied them- f
selves to that study, and dignified it with the name of
Mahomet's Revelations.
The unhappy Spaniards had scarcely reached their Fresh eal*«
ships, when they were attacked by a fresh storm, in mities of
which several more of them perished ; one ship in par-^JjP*’
ticular, containing 700 soldiers, besides sailors, sunku
in the emperor’s sight, without a possibility of saving
a single man. At length, with much labour, they
reached the port of Rvjeyah^ at that time possessed by
the Spaniards, whither Hassan king of Tunis soon af¬
ter repaired with a supply of provisions for the empe¬
ror, who received him graciously, with fresh assurances
of his favour and protection. Here he dismissed the few
remains of the Maltese knights and their forces, who
embarked in three shattered galleys, and with much dif¬
ficulty
A L G [ 681 ] ■ A L G
Algiers. ficnUy and danger reached their own country. Charles
'-‘—v——' himself staid no longer than till the 16th of November,
when he set sail for Carthagena, and reached it on the
25th of the same month. In this unfortunate expedi¬
tion upwards of 120 ships and galleys were lost, above
300 colonels and other land and sea officers, 8000 sol¬
diers and marines, besides those destroyed by the ene¬
my on the reimbarkation, or drowned in the last storm.
The number of prisoners was so great, that the Alge¬
rines sold some of them, by way of contempt, for an
onion per head.
Hassan re- Hassan, elated with this victory, in which he had
duces Tre- very little share, undertook an expedition against the
mecen. king of Tremecen, who, being now deprived of the as¬
sistance of the Spaniards, was forced to procure a peace,
by paying a vast sum of money, and becoming tributary
to him. The bashaw returned to Algiers, laden with
riches ; and soon after died of a fever, in the 66th year
of his age.
Bujeyah From this time the Spaniards were never able to
taken from annoy the Algerines in any considerable degree. In
the Spani- 1555, they lost the city of Bujeyah, which v'as taken
by Salha Rais, Hassan’s successor j who next year set
out on a new expedition, which he kept a secret, but
was suspected to be intended against Oran j but he was
scarcely got four leagues from Algiers, when the plague,
which at that time raged violently in the city, broke
out in his groin, and carried him off in 24 hours.
Hassan Immediately after his death the Algerine soldiery
Corso cho- chose a Corsican renegado, Hassan Corso, in his room,
Kn^bashawtiii ^gy should receive farther orders from the Porte.
Aries Jani' not; accePt °f ^le bashawship without a good deal
of difficulty 5 but immediately prosecuted the intended
expedition against Oran, despatching a messenger to
acquaint the Porte with what had happened. They
had hardly begun their hostilities against the place,
when orders came from the Porte, expressly forbidding
Hassan Corso to begin the siege, or, if he had begun it,
enjoining him to raise it immediately. This news was
received with great grief by the whole fleet and army,
as they thought themselves sure of success, the garrison
being at that time very weak. Nevertheless, as they
dared not disobey, the siege was immediately raised.
Superseded Corso had hardly enjoyed his dignity four months,
by Tekelli, before news came, that eight galleys were bringing a
who puts nevv bashaw to succeed him j one Tekelli, a principal
crue/death f^ur^ Grand Signior’s court: upon which the
Algerines unanimously resolved not to admit him. By
the treachery of the Levantine soldiers, however, he
was admitted at last, and the unfortunate Corso thrown
over a wall in which a number of iron hooks were fix¬
ed ; one of which catching the ribs of his right side,
he hung three days in the most exquisite torture before
he expired.
Tekelli had no sooner entered upon his new govern¬
ment, than he behaved with such cruelty and rapaci-
’ousness, that he w'as assassinated even under the dome
of a saint, by Yusef Calabres, the favourite renegado
of Hassan Corso : who for this service was unanimously
chosen bashaw, but died of the plague six days after
his election.
Yusef was succeeded by Hassan the son of Hayra-
din, who had been formerly recalled from his bashaw¬
ship, when he was succeeded by Salha Rais j and now
had the good fortune to get himself reinstated in his
Vol. I. Part II. f
Hassan re-
iastated.
employment. Immediately on his arrival, he engaged Algiers*
in a war with the Arabs, by whom he was defeated y J
with great loss. The next year, the Spaniards under-sPaniards
took an expedition against Mostagan, under the com-^j^^
mand of the count d’Alcandela 5 but were utterly de-daughter!
feated, the commander himself killed, and i2,oco men 6
taken prisoners. This disaster was owing to the incon¬
siderate rashness, or rather madness, of the commander;
which was so great, that, after finding it impossible to
rally his scattered forces, he rushed sword in hand into
the thickest of the enemy’s ranks, at the head of a small
number of men, crying out, “ St Jago ! StJago! the
victory is ours, the enemy is defeated soon after
which he was thrown from his horse, and trampled to
death.
Hassan having had the misfortune to disoblige his
subjects, by allowing the mountaineers of Cuco to buy
ammunition at Algiers, was sent in irons to Constan- Hassan
tinople, while the aga of the janizaries, and generalj^g”'
of the land forces, supplied his place. Hassan easily Constan-
found means to clear himself; but a new bashaw was tinople,
appointed, called Achmet; who had no sooner arrived
than he sent the two deputy bashaws to Constantinople,
where their heads were struck off’.—Achmet was a man
of such insatiable avarice, that, upon his arrival at Al¬
giers, all ranks of people came in shoals to make him
presents; which he the more greedily accepted, as he
had bought his dignity with the money he had amassed
while head gardener to the Sultan. He enjoyed it,
however, only four months ; and after his death, the
state was governed other four months by his lieutenant;
when Hassan was a third time sent viceroy to Algiers, Reinstated,
where he was received with the greatest demonstrations
of joy.
The first enterprise in which Hassan engaged, was Siege of
the siege of Marsalquiver, situated near the city Oran, Marsalqui*
which he designed to invest immediately after. Thever’
army employed in this siege consisted of 26,000 foot
and 10,000 horse, besides which he had a fleet consist¬
ing of 32 galleys and galliots, together with three
French vessels laden rvith biscuit, oil, and other provi¬
sions. The city was defended by Don Martin de Cor¬
dova, brother of the count d’Alcandela, who had been
taken prisoner in the battle where that nobleman was
killed, but had obtained his liberty from the Algerines
with immense sums, and now made a most gallant de¬
fence against the Turks. The city was attacked with
the utmost fury by sea and land, so that several breaches
were made in the walls. The Turkish standards were
several times planted on. the walls, and as often dis¬
lodged ; but the place must have in the end submitted,
had not Hassan been obliged to raise the siege in haste,
on the news that the famed Genoese admiral Doria was
approaching with considerable succours from Italy.
The fleet accordingly arrived soon after; but missing
the Algerine galleys, bore away for Pennon de Velez,
where they were shamefully repulsed by a handful of
Turks who garrisoned that place ; which, however,
was taken the following year.
In 1567, Hassan was again recalled to Constanti-Hassan a*
nople, where he died three years after. He was suc-8a*n r<>
ceeded by Mahomet, who gained the love of the Al- cabed-
gerines by several public-spirited actions. He incorpo¬
rated the janizaries and Levantine Turks together,
and by that means put an end to their dissensions, which
4 R laid
A L G
[
ki(i the foundation of the Algerine independency on
tiie Porte. He likewise added some considerable for¬
tifications to the city and castle,|which he designed to
render impregnable. But while he was thus studying
the interest of Algiers, one John Gascon, a bold Spa-
atrempt to nish adventurer, formed a design of surprising the whole
fire the Al- piratic navy in the bay, and setting them on fire in the
Aluicr-
John (>'as-
cou’s bold
genne
fleet.
gate.
night-time, when they lay defenceless, and in their
first sleep. For this he had not only the permission of
King Philip II. but was furnished by him with proper
vessels, mariners, and fireworks, for the execution of
his plot. With these he set sail for Algiers in the most
proper season, viz. the beginning of October, when
most if not all the ships lay at anchor there, and ea¬
sily sailed near enough, unsuspected, to view their man¬
ner of riding, in order to catch them unawares, at a
time when the greater part of their crews were dispersed
in their quarters. He came accordingly, unperceived
by any, to the very mole-gate, and dispersed his men
with their fire-works ; but to their great surprise, they
^tl ^iT'0^0111^ ^,eni 80 mixed, that they could not with all
tn ut> arj. mak_e them take fire. In the mean time, Gas¬
con took it into his head, by way of bravado, to go to
the mole-gate, and give three loud knocks at it with
the pommel of his dagger, and to leave it fixed in the
gate by its point, that the Algerines might have cause
to remember him. This he had the good fortune to do
without meeting with any disturbance or opposition:
but it was not so with his men ; for no sooner did they
find their endeavours unsuccessful, than they made such
a bustle as quickly alarmed the guard posted on the ad¬
jacent bastion, from which the uproar quickly spread
itself through the whole garrison. Gascon now finding
himself in the utmost danger, sailed away with all pos¬
sible haste: but he was pursued, overtaken, and brought
back a prisoner to Mahomet: who no sooner got him
into his power, than he immediately caused a gibbet
of considerable height to be erected on the spot where
Gascon had landed, ordering him to be hoisted up, and
hung by the feet to a hook, that he might die in ex¬
quisite torture ; and to show his resentment and con¬
tempt of the king his master, he ordered his commis¬
sion to be tied to his toes. He had not, however, hung
long in this state, when the captain who took him, ac¬
companied by a number of other corsairs, interceded so
strongly in his behalf, that he was taken down, and
put under the care of some Christian surgeons j but two
days after, some Moors reporting that it was the com¬
mon talk and belief in Spain, that the Algerines durst
not hurt a hair of Gascon’s head, &c. the unfortunate
Spaniard was hoisted up by a pulley to the top of the
execution-wall, and let down again upon the hook,
which in his fall catched him by the belly, and gave
him such a wound, that he expired without a groan 
Phus ended the expedition of John Gascon, which has
proem ed him a place among the Spanish martyrs 5
while, on the other hand, the Algerines look upon his
disappointment to have been miraculous, and owing to
the efficacious protection of the powerful saint Sidt Ou-
tededda, whose prayers had before raised such a terrible
storm against the Spanish fleet.
Mahomet, being soon after recalled, was succeeded
by the famous renegade Ochali, who reduced the
kingdom of Tunis 5 which, however, remained sub-
3
Is taken
and put to
death.
682 ] A L G
ject to the viceroy of Algiers only till the year 1586, Al dei-s.
when a bashaw of Tunis was appointed by the Porte. 1 ■— y-—j
The kingdom of Algiers continued to be governed,
till the beginning of the seventeenth century, by vice¬
roys or bashaws appointed by the Porte ; concerning
whom we find nothing very remarkable, further than
that their avarice and tyranny were intolerable both to
the Algerines and the Turks themselves. At last the
Turkish janizaries and militia becoming powerful
enough to suppress the tyrannic sway of these bashaws,
and the people being almost exhausted by the heavy
taxes laid upon them, the former resolved to depose
these petty tyrants, and set up some officer of their
own at the head of the realm. The better to succeed
in this attempt, the militia sent a deputation of some of
their chief members to the Porte, to complain of the
avarice and oppression of these bashaws, who sunk both
the revenue of the state, and the money remitted to it
from Constantinople, into their own coffers, which
should have been employed in keeping up and paying
the soldiery ; by which means they were in continual
danger of being overpowered by the Arabians and
Moors, who, if ever so little assisted by any Christian
power, would hardly fail of driving all the Turks out of
the kingdom. They represented to the Grand Vizier
how much more honourable as well as easier ami
cheaper, it would be for the Grand Signior to permit
them to choose their own dey, or governor, from among
themselves, whose interest it would then be to see that
the revenue of the kingdom was rightly applied in
keeping up its forces complete, and in supplying all
other exigencies of the state, without any further charge
or trouble to the Porte than that of allowing them its
protection. On their part, they engaged always to
acknowledge the Grand Signiors as their sovereigns,
and to pay them their usual allegiance and tribute, to
respect their bashaws, and even to lodge and maintain
them and their retinue, in a manner suitable to their
dignity, at their own charge. The bashaws, however,
were, for the future, to be excluded from assisting at
any but general douwans, unless invited to it; and
from having the liberty of voting in them, unless when
their advice wTas asked, or the interest of the Porte was
likely to suffer by their silence. All other concerns,
which related to the government of Algiers, were to be
wholly left under the direction of the dey and his dou-
wan.
These proposals having been accepted by the Porte, Algerines
the deputies returned highly satisfied 5 and having noti-allowed to
fied their new privileges, the great douwan immediate-choose their
ly proceeded to the election of a dey from amongosvn <^*'
themselves. They compiled a new set of laws, and
made several regulations for the better support and
maintenance of this new form of government, to the
observation of which they obliged all their subjects to
swear j and the militia, navy, commerce, &c. were all
settled pretty nearly on the footing upon which they
now are, and which shall be afterwards described j
though the subsequent altercations that frequently hap¬
pened between the bashaws and deys, the one endea¬
vouring to recover their former power, and the other to
curtail it, caused such frequent complaints and discon¬
tents at the Ottoman court, as made them frequently
repent their compliance.
In
Algiers.
A L G £ 683
In tlie year 1601, the Spaniards, under the com¬
mand of l)oria the Genoese admiral, made another
attempt upon Algiers, in which they were more fortu¬
nate than usual, their fleet being onty driven back by
contrary winds, so that they came off without loss.
In 1609, the Moors being expelled from Spain, flock¬
ed in great numbers to Algiers j and as many of them
-- . were very able sailors, they undoubtedly contributed to
^the Eif IT,a^e Algerine fleet so formidable as it became soon
t0 after ; though it is probable the frequent attempts made
on their city would also induce them to increase their
fleet. In 1616, their fleet consisted of 40 sail of ships
between 200 and 400 tons, their admiral 500 tons. It
was divided into two squadrons, one of 18 sail, before
the port of Malaga ; and the other at the cape of San¬
ta Maria, between Lisbon and Seville j both of which
attacked all Christian ships, both English and French,
with whom they pretended to be in friendship, as well
as Spaniards and Portuguese, with whom they were at
]
A L G
Become
ropean s
The Algerines were now become very formidable to
the European powers. The Spaniards, who were most
in danger, and least able to cope with them, solicited
the assistance of England, the pope, and other states.
The French, however, were the first who dared to show
their resentment of the perfidious behaviour of these
miscreants j and in 1617, M. Beaulieu was sent against
them with a fleet of 50 men of war, who defeated their
fleet, took two of their vessels, while their admiral sunk
his own ship and crew, rather than fall into his ene¬
mies hands.
An English In 1620, a squadron of English men of war was
squadron sen(; against Algiers, under the conduct of Sir Bobert
thTllge-54 ^anSe^ ’ hut of this expedition we have no other ac-
rines. 6 count than that it returned without doing any thing j
and the Algerines, becoming more and more insolent,
openly defied all the European powers, the Dutch only
excepted j to whom, in 1625, they sent a proposal di¬
rected to the prince of Orange, that in case they would
fit out 2o sail of ships the following year, upon any
good service against the Spaniards, they would join
them with 60 sail of their own.
The next year, the Coulolies, or Cologlies (the chil¬
dren of such Turks as had been permitted to marry at
Algiers), who were enrolled in the militia, having
seized on the citadel, had well nigh made themselves
masters of the city ; but were attacked by the Turks
and renegadoes, who defeated them with terrible slaugh¬
ter. Many of them were put to death ; and their
heads thrown in heaps upon the city walls, without
the eastern gate. Part of the citadel was blown up;
and the remaining Coulolies were dismissed from the
militia, to which they were not again admitted till long
after.
In 1623, the Algerines and other states of Barbary
threw off their dependence on the Porte altogether, and
heird ” set UP ^or thero^ives. What gave occasion to this was
knee on * ^le 23 years truce which Sultan Amurath IV. was ob-
he Porte, liged to make with the emperor Ferdinand II. to pre¬
vent his being overmatched by carrying on a war a-
gainst him and the sophi of Persia at the same time.
As this put a stop to the piratical trade of the Alge¬
rines, they proceeded as above mentioned, and resolved,
that whoever desired to be at peace with them, must,
distinctly and separately, apply to their government.-—
itates of
Carbary
hrow off
No sooner was this resolution taken, than the Algerines Algiers.
began to make prizes of several merchant ships belong- y 
mg to powers at peace Avith the Porte. Nay, having
seized a Dutch ship and poleacre at Scanderoon, they
ventured on shore j and finding the town abandoned
by the Turkish aga and inhabitants, they plundered all
the magazines and warehouses, and set them on fire.—
About this time Louis XTII. undertook to build a fort
on their coasts, instead of one formerly built by the
Marsilians, and which they had demolished. This, af¬
ter some difficulty, he accomplished ; and it was called
the Bastion of France: but the situation being after¬
wards found inconvenient, the French purchased the
port of La Calle, and obtained liberty to trade with the
Arabians and Moors. The Ottoman court, in the mean
time, was so much embarrassed Avith the Persian Aval-,
that there was no leisure to check the Algerine pira¬
cies. This gave an opportunity to the vizier and other
courtiers to compound matters with the Algerines, and
to get a share of their prizes, which were very consi¬
derable. However, for form’s sake, a severe repri¬
mand, accompanied with threats, Avas sent them ; to
which they replied, “ that these depredations deserved
to be indulged to them, seeing they were the only bul¬
wark against the Christian powers, especially against
the Spaniards, the sworn enemies of the Moslem name;
adding, that “ if they should pay a punctilious regard
to all that could purchase peace, or liberty to trade
with the Ottoman empire, they would have nothing to
do but set fire to all their shipping, and turn camel-
drivers for a livelihood.”
In the year 1635, four younger brothers of a good 1)esperat(.
family in France entered into an undertaking so des-underta-
perate, that perhaps the annals of knight-errantry can king of four
scarcely furnish its equal.—This was no less than to re-yoUQS('r
tort the piracies of the Algerines upon themselves; and br°lherS”
as they indiscriminately took the ships of all nations,
so were these heroes indiscriminately to take the ships
belonging to Algiers ; and this with a small frigate of
ten guns !—In this ridiculous undertaking, 100 volun¬
teers embarked ; a Maltese commission was procured,
together Avith an able master, and 36 mariners.—They
had the good fortune, on their first setting out, to take
a ship laden Avith wine, on the Spanish coast: with
which they were so much elated, that three days after
they madly encountered two large Algerine corsairs, one
of 20 and the other of 24 guns, both well manned, and
commanded by able officers. These two large vessels
having got the small frigate between them, plied her
furiously with great shot, and soon took off her main¬
mast : notwithstanding which, the French made so des ¬
perate a resistance, that the pirases were not able to
take them, till the noise of their fire brought up five
more Algerines ; when the French vessel, being almost
torn to pieces, was boarded and taken. The young
knight-errants Avere punished for their temerity by a
dreadful captivity, from which they redeemed them¬
selves in 1642 at the price of 6000 dollars.
The Algerines prosecuted their piracies Avith im-a French
punity, to the terror and disgrace of the Europeans,admiral
till the year 1652; Avhen a French fleet being acciden-carries
tally driven to Algiers, the admiral took it into his head
to demand a release of all the captives of his nation,
without exception. This being refused, the French¬
man without ceremony carried off the Turkish vice-
4 B a roy,
A L G [ 684 ] A L G
Algiers, roy, and his cadi or judge, who had just arrived from
v——> the Porte, with all their equipage and retinue. The
Algerines, by way of reprisal, surprised the Bastion of
France already mentioned, and carried off the inhabi¬
tants to the number of 600, with all their effects ;
which so provoked the admiral, that he sent them word
that he would pay them another visit the next year with
his whole fleet.
The Al e The Algerines, undismayed by the threats of the
rines fiifout French admiral, fitted out a fleet of 16 galleys and gal-
a. formida- liots, excellently manned and equipped, under the com-
ble fleet. mand of Admiral Hali Pinchinin.—The chief design
of this armament was against the treasure of Loretto ;
which, however, they were prevented by contrary winds
from obtaining. On this they made a descent on
Puglia in the kingdom of Naples j where they ravaged
the whole territory of Necotra, carrying off a vast num¬
ber of captives, and among them some nuns. From
thence steering towards Dalmatia, they scoured the
Adriatic ; and loading themselves with immense plun¬
der, left those coasts in the utmost consternation and
resentment.
wkich is At last the Venetians, alarmed at such terrible de-
totally de- predations, equipped a fleet of 28 sail, under the com-
tke^Vemf rnan^ of Admiral Capello, with express orders to burn,
tians. sink, or take, all the Barbary corsairs he met with,
either on the open seas, or even in the Grand Signior’s
harbours, pursuant to a late treaty of peace with the
Porte. On the other hand, the captain bashaw, who
had been sent out with the Turkish fleet to chase the
Florentines and Maltese cruisers out of the Archipe¬
lago, understanding that the Algerine squadron was so
near, sent express orders to the admiral to come to his
assistance. Pinchinin readily agreed •, but having first
resolved on a descent upon the island of Lissa, or Lisi¬
na, belonging to the Venetians, he was overtaken by
Capello, from whom he retired to Valona, a sea port
belonging to the Grand Signior, whither the Venetian
admiral pursued him •, but the Turkish government re¬
fusing to eject the pirates according to the articles of
the peace between the Ottoman court and Venice, Capel¬
lo was obliged to content himself with watching them for
some time. Pinchinin was soon weary of restraint, and
ventured out; when an engagement immediately en¬
sued, in which the Algerines were defeated, and five
of their vessels disabled, with the loss of 1300 men,
Turks, and Christian slaves $ besides 1600 galley slaves
who regained their liberty. Pinchinin, after this de¬
feat, returned to Valona, where he rvas again watched
by Capello; but the latter had not long lain at his old
anchorage before he received a letter from the senate,
desiring him to make no farther attempt on the pirates
at that time, for fear of a rupture with the Porte. This
was followed by a letter from the governor of Valona,
desiring him to take care lest he incurred the sultan’s
displeasure by such insults. The brave Venetian was
forced to comply j but resolving to take such a leave
of the Algerines as he thought they deserved, observed
how they had reared their tents, and drawn their booty
and equipage along the shore. He then kept firing
among their tents, while some well manned galliots
and brigantines were ordered among their shipping,
who attacked them with such bravery, that, without
any great loss, they rowed out their 16 galleys, with
all their cannon, stores, &c.—In this last engagement
a ball from one of the Venetian galleys happening to Allien,
strike a Turkish mosque, the whole action was consider- v—
ed as an insult upon the Grand Signior. To conceal
this, Capello was ordered to sink all the Algerine ships
he had taken, except the admiral; which was to be
conducted to Venice, and laid up as a trophy. Capello
came ofl' with a severe reprimand j but the Venetians
W'ere obliged to buy, with 500,000 ducats, a peace
from the Porte. The Grand Signior ofl’ered to repair
the loss of the Algerines by building ten galleys for
them, upon condition that they should continue in his
service till the end of the ensuing summer j but Pinchi¬
nin, who knew how little the Algerines chose to lie
under obligations to him, civilly declined the offer.
In the mean time, the news of this defeat and 1 oss Algiers in
filled Algiers with the utmost grief and confusion. The1*16
whole city was on the point of a general insurrection,^”^*1011
when the bashaw and douwan issued a proclamation,neWs.
forbidding not only complaints and outcries, under the
severest penalties j but all persons whatever to take their
thumbs from within their girdles, while they were deli¬
berating upon this important point. In the mean time
they applied to the Porte for an order that the Vene¬
tians settled in the Levant should make up their loss.
But with this the Grand Signior refused to comply,
and left them to repair their losses, as well as build new
ships in the best manner they could. It was not long,
however, before they had the satisfaction to see one of
their corsairs land, with a fresh supply of 600 slaves,
whom he had brought from the coast of Iceland, whi¬
ther he had been directed by a miscreant native taken
on board a Danish ship.
Our pirates did not long continue in their weak and They set
defenceless state j being able at the end of two years,0llt a new
to appear at sea with a fleet of 65 sail. The admiralfleet*
Pinchinin equipped four galliots at his own expence :
with which, in conjunction with the chiayah, or se¬
cretary of the bashaw of Tripoli, he made a second ex¬
cursion. This small squadron, consisting of five gal¬
leys and two brigantines, fell in with an English ship
of 40 guns 5 which, however, Pinchinin’s captains re¬
fused to engage j but being afterwards reproached by
him for their cowardice, they swore to attack the next
Christian ship which came in their way. Ti>is happen¬
ed to be a Dutch merchantman, of 28 guns, which was Aj.
deeply laden, and unable to use her sails by reason of jeyS (iefea^
a calm. Pinchinin immediately summoned her to sur-ed by a
render *, but receiving an ironical answer, drew up his Dutch mer-
squadron in form of a half moon, that they mightc^antraanj
pour all their shot at once into their adversary. This,
however, the Dutchman avoided, by means of a breeze
of wind which fortunately sprung up and enabled him
to turn his ship j upon which the galleys ran foul of
each other. Upon this, Pinchinin ran his own galley
along side of the merchantman, the upper deck of
which 70 Algerines immediately took possession of,
some of them cutting the rigging, and others plying
the hatches with hand grenadoes : but the Dutchmen
having secured themselves in their close quarters, be¬
gan to fire at the Algerines on board, from two pieces
of cannon loaded with small shot j by which they were
all soon killed, or forced to submit. Pinchinin, in the
mean time, made several unsuccessful attempts to re¬
lieve his men, as well as to surround the Dutchman
with his other galleys j but that ship lay so deep in the
water,
A L G • [ 685 ] _ A L G
Algiers, water, that every shot did terrible execution among the
"'■1 pirates j so that they were obliged to remove farther
off. At last the Dutch captain, having ordered his
guns to be loaded with cartouches, gave them such a
parting volley as killed 200 of them, and sent the rest
back to Algiers in a most dismal plight.
But though Pinchmin thus returned in disgrace, the
rest of the fleet quickly came back with vast numbers
of slaves, and an immense quantity of rich spoils j inso¬
much that the English, French, and Dutch, were obli¬
ged to cringe to the mighty Algerines, who sometimes
vouchsafed to be at peace with them, but swore eternal
war against Spain, Portugal, and Italy, whom they
looked upon as the greatest enemies to the Mahometan
Prepara- name. At last Louis XIV. provoked by the grievous
gairfs^Al- outrages committed by the Algerines on the coast of
giers by Provence and Languedoc, ordered, in 1681, a consi-
Louis XIV. derable fleet to be fitted out against them, under the
marquis du Quesne, vice-admiral of France. His first
expedition was against a number of Tripolitan corsairs j
who had the good fortune to outrow him, and shelter
themselves in the island of Scio belonging to the Turks.
This did not, however, prevent him from pursuing them
thither, and making such terrible fire upon them as
quickly destroyed 14 of their vessels, besides battering
the walls of the castle.
Algiers This severity seemed only to be designed as a check
bombarded to the piracies of the Algerines $ but, finding they still
firebetthe cont*nue(* t*ie'r outrages on the French coast, he sailed
French. *° ^g*ers August 1682, cannonading and bombard¬
ing it so furiously, that the whole town was in flames
in a very little time. The great mosque was battered
down, and most of the houses laid in ruins, insomuch
that the inhabitants were on the point of abandoning
the place 5 when on a sudden the wind turned about,
Algerines and obliged Du Quesne to return to Toulon. The Alge-
commit rines immediately made reprisals, by sending a number
dreadful 0f ga]leyS an(J galliots to the coast of Provence, where
France^ m ^ley cornm‘*:ted the most dreadful ravages, and brought
away a vast number of captives : upon which a new ar¬
mament was ordered to be got ready at Toulon and
Marseilles against the next year 5 and the Algerines,
having received timely notice, put themselves into as
good a state of defence as the time would allow.
The city ^ay I^^3* I^u Quesne with his squadron cast
again bom- anchor before Algiers 5 where, being joined by the
barded. Marquis d’Affranville at the head of five stout vessels,
it was resolved to bombard the town next day. Ac¬
cordingly 100 bombs were thrown into it the first
day, which did terrible execution ; while the besieged
made some hundred discharges of their cannon against
them without doing any considerable damage. The
following nights the bombs were again thrown into the
city in such numbers, that the dey’s palace and other
great edifices were almost destroyed j some of their
batteries were dismounted, and several vessels sunk in
the port. The dey and Turkish bashaw, as well as the
whole soldiery, alarmed at this dreadful havock, im¬
mediately sued for peace. As a preliminary, the im¬
mediate surrender was insisted on of all Christian cap¬
tives who had been taken fighting under the French
flag j which being granted, 142 of them were imme¬
diately delivered up, with a promise of sending him
the remainder as soon as they could be got from the dif¬
ferent parts of the country. Accordingly Du Quesne
sent his commissary-general and one of his engineers Algitrr,
into the town } but with express orders to insist upon "v-" ,J
the delivery of all the Fi’ench captives without excep¬
tion, together with the effects they had taken from
the Fiench : and that Mezomorto their then admiral,
and Hali Rais one of theii' captains, should be given as
hostages.
1 bis last demand having embarrassed the dey, he as¬
sembled the douwan, and acquainted them with it;
upon which Mezomorto fell into a violent passion, and
told the assembly that the cowardice of those who sat
at the helm had occasioned the rum of Algiers : but
that, for his pai’t, he would never consent to deliver up
any thing that had been taken from the Fiench. He
immediately acquainted the soldiery with what had
passed ; which so exasperated them, that they murdered
the dey that very night, and on the morrow chose Me-
zomorto in his place. This was no sooner done, than
he cancelled all the articles of peace which had been
made, and hostilities were renewed with greater fury
than ever.
The French admiral now kept pouring in such vol-Set on fire,
leys of bombs, that in less than three days the greatestand abnost-
part of the city was reduced to ashes; and the firedestro^ed3
burnt with such vehemence, that the sea was enlight¬
ened with it for more than two leagues round. Mezo¬
morto, unmoved at all these disasters, and the vast num¬
ber of the slain, whsse blood ran in rivulets along the
street; or leather, growing furious and desperate, sought
only how to wreak his revenge on the enemy ; and, not
content with causing all the French in the city to be
cruelly murdered, ordered their consul to be tied hand
and foot, and fastened alive to the mouth of a mortar,
from whence he was shot away against their navy.—By
this piece of inhumanity Du Quesne was so exaspera¬
ted, that he did not leave Algiers till he had utterly
destroyed all their fortifications, shipping, almost all
the lower pai't, and above two-thirds of the upper part
of the city, by which means it became little else than
a heap of ruins.
, The haughty Algerines were now thoroughly con- Algerines
yinced that they were not invincible; and therefore sue for
immediately sent an embassy into France, begging in peace,
the most abject terms for peace; which Louis imme-
diately granted, to their inexpressible joy. They now
began to pay some regard to other nations, and to be
a little cautious how they wantonly incurred their dis¬
pleasure. The fix’st bombardment by the French had
so far humbled the Algerines, that they condescended
to enter into a treaty with England ; which was renew¬
ed upon terms very advantageous to the latter in 1686.
It is not to be supposed, however, that the natural per¬
fidy of the Algerines would disappear on a sudden : not¬
withstanding this treaty, therefore, they lost no oppor¬
tunity of making prizes of the English ships when they
could conveniently come at them. Upon some infi’inge-Seven of
ment of this kind, Captain Beach drove ashore and fbeir ships
burnt seven of their frigates in 1695 ; which produced j)nriU by
a renewal of the treaty five years after ; but it was not
till the taking of Gibraltar and Port Mahon, that Bi’i-
tain could have a sufficient check upon them to enforce
the observation of treaties ; and these have since proved
such restraints upon Algiers, that they still continue to
pay a greater deference to the English than to any other
European power.
The
Algiers.
Expulsion
of the Turk,
ish bashaw,
Revenues,
Sec. of the
dey.
A L G [
The seventeenth century furnishes no very remark¬
able events with regard to Algiers, except the taking of
the famed city of Oran from the Spaniards in 1708
(which however they regained in 1737), and the ex¬
pulsion of the Turkish bashaw, and uniting his office to
that of dey in 1710. This introduced the form of go¬
vernment which still continues in Algiers, but which
made no change in their piratical spirit.
Britain at length had the glory of putting a period
to an outrage, under which Europe had groaned for
several centuries. As soon as the termination of the
continental war allowed leisure to attend to this object,
a squadron was sent to Algiers under Lord Exmouth,
who was instructed to require, that all the European
captives in the Algerine territory should be delivered
up, on the payment of a stipulated ransom ; and that
this nefarious system should be for ever relinquished.
The Algerines, under the dread inspired by the pre¬
sence of the British fleet, concluded a treaty upon these
terms $ but scarcely was Lord Exmouth departed,
when it was violated in the most shocking manner, by
the massacre of a large body of Neapolitan fishermen
at Bona. This intelligence reached England almost
immediately after the arrival of Lord Exmouth, who
speedily set sail with an augmented force, to avenge
this atrocious violation of the law of nations. The
dey, sensible that force only could now avert the
threatened punishment, made every possible prepara¬
tion for defence. The attack by the fleet was one of
the most daring to be found in our naval records. On
the 27th August 1816, the ships took their places in
front of a most formidable range of double batteries,
within a very short distance. The resistance was ob¬
stinate, but unavailing. The batteries were destroyed,
the Algerine fleet in the harbour reduced to ashes, and
the dey was compelled to submit to the humiliating-
terms imposed,—the restoration of all his present cap¬
tives without ransom, with the repayment of ransoms
formerly received, and the abolition for ever of Chris¬
tian slavery. This great achievement was not accom¬
plished without the loss of 600 or 700 men killed or
wounded in the British fleet. It is likely, however,
that the severe lesson taught the Algerines, will put
an end to their depredations.
The dey is now absolute monarch j and pays no
other revenue to the Porte than that of a certain num¬
ber of fine boys or youths, and some other presents,
which are sent thither yearly. His own income pro¬
bably rises and falls according to the opportunities he
has of fleecing both natives and foreigners j whence it
is variously computed by different auUiors. Dr Shaw
computes the taxes of the whole kingdom to bring into
the treasury no more than 300,000 dollars; but sup¬
poses that the eighth part of the prizes, the effects of
those persons who die without children, joined to the
yearly contributions raised by the government, presents
from loreigners, fines and oppressions, may bring in
about as much more. Both the dey and officers under
him enrich themselves by the same laudable methods
of rapine and fraud ; which it is no wonder to find the
common people practising upon one another, and espe¬
cially upon strangers, seeing they themselves are im¬
poverished by heavy taxes and the injustice of those
who are in authority.
W'e have already hinted, that the first deys were
Algiers.
686 ] A L G
elected by the militia, who were then called the chuwan
or common council. This elective body was at first u—
composed of 800 militia officers, without whose con¬
sent the dey could do nothing j and upon some urgent
occasions all the officers residing in Algiers, amount¬
ing to above 1500, were summoned to assist. But
since the deys, who may be compared to the Dutch
stadtholders, have become more powerful, the dou-
wan is principally composed of 30 chiah bashaws or
colonels, with now and then the mufti and cadi upon
some emergencies $ and, on the election of a dey, the
whole soldiery are allowed to come and give their votes.
In this country it is not to be expected that justic« punjgj,
will be administered with any degree of impartiality. nients,"&c.
The Mahometan soldiery, in particular, are so much
favoured, that they are seldom put to death for any
crime except rebellion : in which case they are either
strangled with a bow string ox hanged to an iron hook.
In lesser ofiences, they are fined, or their pay stopped;
and if officers, they are reduced to the station of com¬
mon soldiers, from whence they may gradually raise
themselves to their former dignity. Women guilty of
adultery, have a halter tied about their necks, with the
other end fastened to a pole, by which they are held
under water till they are suffocated. The bastinado is
likewise inflicted for small offences ; and is given either
upon the belly, back, or soles of the feet, according to
the pleasure of the cadi; who also appoints the num¬
ber of strokes. These sometimes amount to 200 or 300,
according to the indulgence the offender can obtain
either by bribery or friends; and hence he often dies
under this punishment for want of powerful enough
advocates. But the most terrible punishments are those
inflicted upon the Jews or Christians who speak against
Mahomet or his religion ; in which case, they must ei¬
ther turn Mahometans or be impaled alive. If they
afterwards apostatize, they are burned or roasted alive,
or else thrown down from the top of the city walls up¬
on iron hooks, where they are caught by difierent parts
of their body according as they happen to fall, and
sometimes expire in the greatest torments; though by
accident they may be put out of pain at once, as we
have already related of the Spanish adventurer John
Gascon.
The officer next in power to the dey is the aga ofA^aofthe
the janizaries, who is one of the eldest officers in the janizaries
army, and holds his post only for two months. He isand otlier
then succeeded by the chiah, or next senior officer.—aiiiita,y *'f'
During the two months in which the aga enjoys his^CerS*
dignity, the keys of the metropolis are in his hands;
all military orders are issued out in his name ; and the
sentence ol the dey upon any offending soldier, whether
capital or not, can only be executed in the court of
his palace.-—As soon as he has gone through this short
office, he is considered as Tnn%oul^ or superannuated ;
receives his pay regularly, like the rest of the militia,
every two moons ; is exempt from all further duties, ex¬
cept when called by the dey to assist at the grand coun¬
cil, to which he hath, however, a right to come at all
times, but hath no longer a vote in it. Next to the
aga in dignity is the secretary of state, who ^registers
all the public acts; and after him are the 30 cbiahs
or colonels, who sit next to the aga in the douwan,
and in the same gallery with him. Out of this class
are generally chosen those who go ambassadors to fo-
iCOIMt
scorsa
sucre
reign
A L G
[ 68
reign courts, or who disperse the dey’s orders through¬
out the realm. Next to them are 800 bolluck bashaws
or eldest captains, who are promoted to that of chiah
bashaws according to their seniority. The oldack
bashaws or lieutenants are next ; who amount to 400,
and are regularly raised to the rank of captains in their
turn, and to other employments in the state, according
to their abilities. These, by way of distinction, wear
a leather strap, hanging down to the middle of their
back. One rule is strictly observed in the rotation of
these troops from one degree to a higher, viz. the
right 0! seniority ; one single infringement of which
u’ould cause an insurrection, and probably cost the dey
his life. Other military officers of note are the veke-
lards or purveyors of the army ; the beys, who are the
tour oldest soldiers, and consequently the nearest to pre¬
ferment ; the soulacks, who are the next in seniority to
them, and are part of the dey’s body-guard, always
marching before him when he takes the field, and di¬
stinguished by their carabines and gilt scimitars, with a
brass gun on their caps ; the kayts or Turkish sol¬
diers, each band of whom has the government of one
or more adowars or itinerant villages, and collects their
taxes for the dey ; and the sagiards or Turkish lance-
men, 100 of whom always attend the army, and watch
over the wafer appointed for it. To these we may add
the beys or governors of the three great provinces of
the realm. All the above-mentioned officers ought to
compose the great douwan or council above mentioned ;
but only the 30 chiah bashaws have a right to sit in
the gallery next after the dey ; the rest are obliged to
stand on the floor of the hall or council chamber,
with their arms across, and as much as possible with¬
out motion ; neither are they permitted to enter with
their swords on, for fear of a tumult. As for those
who have any matter to transact with the douwan,
they must stand without, let the weather be ever so
bad ; and there they are commonly presented with cof¬
fee by some of the inferior oflicers, till they are dis¬
missed.
ccount of It does not appear that the Algerines avail tliem-
3mmeree?,Se}veS t!ie bene^t of tbe^r internal resources to
:c. 5 *be extent they might do 5 for their genius leads
them too much to the piratical trade to mind any real
advantage that might be derived from their own coun¬
try. The corsairs or pirates form each a small re¬
public, of which the rais or captain is the supreme
bashaw ; who, with the officers under him, form a kind
of douwan, in which every matter relating to the ves¬
sel is decided in an arbitrary way. These corsairs are
chiefly instrumental in importing whatever commodities
are brought into the kingdom either by way of mer¬
chandise or prizes. These consist chiefly of gold and
silver stuffs, damasks, cloths, spices, tin, iron, plated
brass, lead, quicksilver, cordage, sail-cloth, bullets,
cochineal, linen, tartar, alum, rice, sugar, soap, cot¬
ton raw and spun, copperas, aloes, brazil and logwood,
vermilion, &c. Very few commodities, however, are
exported from this part of the world : the oil, wax,
hides, pulse, and corn produced, being but barely suffi¬
cient to supply the country ; though, before the loss
of Oran, the merchants have been known to ship oft’
from one or other of the ports of Barbary several thou¬
sand tons of corn. The consumption of oil, though
Iiere in great abundance, is likewise so considerable in
Algiers.
7 ] A' L G
tliis kingdom, lliat it is seldom permitted to be shipped
oft for Europe. The other exports consist chiefly in  Y 
osti icues feathers, copper, rugs, silk sashes, embroider¬
ed handkerchiefs, dates, and Christian slaves. Some
manufactures in silk, cotton, wool, leather, &c. are
earned on in this country, but mostly by the Spaniards
settled here, especially about the metropolis. Carpets
are also a manufacture of the country ; which, though
much inferior to those of Turkey both in beauty and
fineness, are preferred by the people to lie upon, on
account of their being both cheaper and softer. There
are also at Algiers looms for velvets, tafl’etas, and other
wiought silks j and a coarse sort of linen is likewise
made in most parts of the kingdom. The country
furnishes no materials for ship building. They have
neither lopes, tar, sails, anchors, nor even iron. When
they can procure enough of new wood to form the
main timbers of a ship, they supply the rest from the
materials of prizes which they have made ; and thus
find the secret of producing new and swift-sailing ves¬
sels from the ruins of the old. Of all the states on the
coast of Barbary, the Algerines are the strongest at
sea.
i he religion of the Algerines is chiefly distinguish-Religion,
ed from that of the rI urks by a greater variety of
superstitious rites. 1 he Koran is their acknowledged
rule of faith and practice ; but they are not very
scrupulous in the observance of it. The mufti, or
high priest $ the cadi, or chief judge ; and the grand
marabout, are the three principal officers who preside
in matters ol religion. Ihe cadi attends in the court
of justice once or twice every day, to hear and deter¬
mine causes j but those of superior importance are sub¬
mitted to the dey himself, or, in his absence, to one of
the principal officers of the regency, who sits in the
gate of the palace for that express purpose. Of this
custom some traces are found in sacred history, Deut.
xx. II. 15. xxv. 7.
Algiers, a city, the capital of the above king¬
dom, is probably the ancient Icosium : by the Arabians
called Algcxair, or rather Al-Jexier, or Al-Je%erah,
i. e. the island, because there was an island before the
city, to which it has since been joined by a mole. It
is built on the declivity of a hill by the sea-side, in the
form of an amphitheatre : at sea, it looks like the top¬
sail of a ship. Bile tops of the houses are quite flat and
white, and have all the appearance of a bleachfield.
One house rises above another in such a manner that
they do not hinder each other’s prospect. The streets
are so narrow, that they will scarcely admit two per¬
sons to walk abreast, and the middle part is lower than
the sides. When any loaded beasts, such as camels,
horses, mules, or asses, pass along, you are forced to
stand up close to the wall to let them pass by. There
is but one broad street, which runs through the city
from east to W'est, in which are the shops of the prin¬
cipal merchants, and the market for corn and other
commodities. Ihe lower part of the walls of the city
is of hewn stone, and the upper part of brick ; they
are 30 feet high on the land side, and 40 towards the
sea j the fosses or ditches are 20 feet wide, and 7 deep.
There is no sweet water in the city $ and though
there is a tank or cistern in every house, yet they often
want w'ater, because it rains but seldom : the chief sup¬
ply is from a spring on a hill, the water of which is
conveyed
A L G [ 688 ] A L G
conveyed by pipes to above a hundred fountains, at
which a bowl is fastened for the use of passengers. The
common reservoir is at the end of the mole, where the
ships take in their water. Every one takes his turn at
these places, except the Turks, who are first, and the
Jews last. There are five gates, which are open from sun¬
rising till sun-setting } and seven forts or castles with
out the walls, the greatest of which is on the mole with¬
out the gate, all of which are well supplied with great
guns. There are 10 large mosques and 50 small ones ;
three great colleges or public schools, and a great
number of petty ones for children. The houses are
square, and built of stone and brick, with a square
court in the middle, and galleries all around. There
are said to be about 100,000 inhabitants in the city,
comprehending 5000 Jewish families, besides Christians.
There are four fundics or public inns such as are in
Turkey j and six cazernes, or barracks, for the unmar¬
ried Turkish soldiers, which will hold 600 each. There
are no inns for Christians to lodge at; but only a few
tippling huts kept by slaves, for the accommodation of
Greeks and the poorer sort of travellers, where any
thing may be had for money. Here are bagnios or
public baths, in the same manner as in Turkey, at a
very moderate rate. The women have baths of their
own, where the men dare not come. Without the city
there is a great number of sepulchres, as also cells or
chapels, dedicated to marabouts or reputed saints,
which the women visit every Friday. The Turkish
soldiers are great tyrants $ for they not only turn others
out of the way in the streets, but will go to the farm¬
houses in the country for 20 days together, living at
free quarters, and making use of every thing, not ex¬
cepting the women. The Algerines eat, as in Turkey,
sitting cross-legged round a table about four inches high,
and use neither knives nor forks. Before they begin,
every one says Be isme Allah, “ In the name of God.”
When they have done, a slave pours water on all their
hands as they sit, and then they wash their mouths.
Their drink is water, sherbet, and coffee. Wine is not
allowed, though drank immoderately by some. The pro¬
spect of the country and sea from Algiers is very beau¬
tiful, it being built on the declivity of a mountain } but
the city, though for several ages it has braved some of
the greatest powers in Christendom, it is said, could
‘make but a faint defence against a regular siege ? and
that three English fifty-gun ships might batter it about
the ears of its inhabitants from the harbour. If so,
the Spaniards must have been very deficient either in
courage or conduct. They attacked it in the year
'l175’ by land and by sea, but were repulsed with great
loss j though they had near 20,000 foot and 2000
horse, and 47 king’s ships of dift’erent rates and 346
transports. In the years 1783 and 1784, they are also
renewed their attacks by sea to destroy the city and gal¬
leys ; but after spending a quantity of ammunition,
bombs, &c. were forced to retire without either its
capture or extinction. The mole of the harbour is
500 paces in length, extending from the continent to
a small island where there is a castle and large battery.
E. Long. 3. 30. N. Lat. 36. 42.
ALGOA Bay, or Zwart-hops, in southern Africa
is situated in S. Lat. 33. 56. E. Long. 26. 53. and
500 miles distant from the Cape of Good Hope. Mr
Barrow, who visited this place, found, in an adjoin-
2
ing valley, a species of antelope called the riet-bok, or ok
red-goat, previously unknown to naturalists. He also y
mentions that great advantages might accrue to the Aigoritlm
East India Company from the erection of an establish-
ment at this place, lor the purpose of preparing salted
beef and fish, in consequence of the salt-pans, and the
abundance of large bullocks, in the vicinity 5 together
with great numbers of excellent fish, with which the
coast abounds.
ALGOL, a fixed star of the third magnitude, call¬
ed Medusa's Head, in the constellation Perseus. Its
longitude is 21° 50' 42'' of Taurus, and its latitude
230 23' 47" north j according to Flamstead’s cata¬
logue. For an account of its changes, period, and
other circumstances, see Astronomy Index.
ALGONQUINS, a nation in North America, who
formerly possessed great tracts of land along the north
shore of the river St Lawrence. For a long time they
had no rivals as hunters and warriors, and were long
in alliance with the Iroquois j whom they agreed to
protect from all invaders, and to let them have a share
of their venison. The Iroquois, on the other hand, were
to pay a tribute to their allies, out of the culture of the
earth ; and to perform for them all the menial duties,
such as flaying the game, curing the flesh, and dressing
the skins. By degress, however, the Iroquois associated
in the hunting matches and warlike expeditions of the
Algonquins ; so that they soon began to fancy them¬
selves as well qualified, either for war or hunting, as their
neighbours. One winter a large detachment of both
nations having gone out a hunting, and secured, as they
thought, a vast quantity of game, six young Algon¬
quins and as many Iroquois were sent out to begin
the slaughter. The Algonquins, probably become a
little jealous of their associates, upon seeing a few elks,
desired the Iroquois to return, on pretence that they
would have sufficient employment in flaying the game
they should kill j but after three days hunting, having
killed none, the Iroquois exulted, and in a day or two
privately set out to hunt for themselves. The Algon¬
quins were so exasperated at seeing their rivals return
laden with game, that they murdered all the hunters
in the night time. The Iroquois dissembled their re¬
sentment : but in order to be revenged, applied them¬
selves to study the art of war as practised among those
savage nations. Being afraid of engaging with the
Algonquins, at first they tried their prowess on other
inferior nations, and, when they thought themselves
sufficiently expert, attacked the Algonquins with such
diabolical fury, as showed they could be satisfied with
nothing less than the extermination of the whole race;
which, had it not been for the interposition of the
I rench they would have accomplished.-—The few Al¬
gonquin nations, that are now to be seen, seem entirely
ignorant of agriculture, and subsist by fishing and hunt¬
ing. They allow themselves a pluralityrof wives ; not¬
withstanding which, they daily decrease in populous¬
ness, few or none of their nations containing above 6oco
souls, and many of them not 2000. Their language is
one of the three radical ones in North America, being
understood from the river St Lawrence to the Mississippi.
ALGOR, with physicians, an unusual coldness in
any part of the body.
ALGORITHM, an Arabic word expressive of nu¬
merical computation.
ALGUAZIL,
Algaazil
1
Alhambra
L H
the Spanish polity,
travels in
'pain.
A
ALGUAZIL, in tne Spanish polity, an  
whose business it is to see the decrees of a iudg:e exe-
^ cuted.
ALHAMA, a very pleasant town of the kingdom
ef Granada, in Spain, situated in the midst of some
craggy mountains, about 25 miles S. W. of Granada,
on the banks of the Rio Frio, in W. Long. 3. 26.
N. Lat. 36. 59. and having the finest warm baths in all
Spain. It was taken from the Moors in 1481. The
inhabitants, though surprised, and the town without a
garrison, made a gallant defence : but being at length
forced to submit, the place was abandoned to the pil¬
lage of the Christian soldiers, who not satisfied with an
immense quantity of gold and jewels, made slaves of
upwards 3000 of the inhabitants.
ALHAMBRA, the ancient fortress and residence
of the Moorish monarchs of Granada. It derives its
name from the red colour of the materials which it was
originally built with, Alhambra signifying a red house.
It appears to a traveller a huge heap of as ugly build¬
ings as can well be seen, all huddled together, seeming¬
ly without the least intention of forming one habitation
Out them. The walls are entirely unornamented, all
gravel and pebbles, daubed over with plaster by a very
coarse hand : yet this is the palace of the Moorish kings
of Granada, indisputably the most curious place within
that exists in Spain, perhaps in the world. In many
countries may be seen excellent modern as well as an¬
cient architecture, both entire and in ruins j but nothing
to be met with anywhere else can convey an idea of this
edifice, except the decorations of an opera, or the tales
of the genii.
Passing round the corner of the emperor’s palace,
one is admitted at a plain unornamented door in a cor¬
ner. On my first visit, says Mr Swinburne, I confess
I was struck with amazement, as I stept over the
threshold, to find myself on a sudden transported into
a species of fairy land. The first place you come to
is the court called the communa or del mesucar, that is,
the common baths ; an oblong square, with a deep ba¬
son of clear water in the middle ; two flights of marble
steps leading down to the bottom ; on each side a par¬
terre of flowers, and a row of orange trees. Round
the court runs a peristyle paved with marble ; the
arches bear upon very slight pillars, in proportions
and style different from all the regular orders of
architecture. The ceilings and walls are incrustated
with fretwork in stucco, so minute and intricate, that
the most patient draughtsman would find it difficult to
follow it, unless he made himself master of the general
plan. This would facilitate the operation exceedingly ;
for all this work is frequently and regularly repeated
at certain distances, and has been executed by means
of square moulds applied successively, and the parts
joined together with the utmost nicety. In every di¬
vision are Arabic sentences of different lengths, most
of them expressive of the following meanings : “ There
is no conqueror but God or, “ Obedience and ho¬
nour to our lord Abouabdoulah.” The ceilings are
gilt or painted ; and time has caused no diminution in
the freshness of their colours, though constantly expos¬
ed to the air. The lower part of the walls is mosaic,
disposed in fantastic knots and festoons. A work so
novel, so exquisitely finished, and so different from all
that he had ever seen, must afford a stranger the most
Vol. I. Part II, f
[ 689 ] A L H
officer agreeable sensations while he treads this magic ground. Alhambra.
The porches at the ends are more like grotto-work than v~—<
any thing else to which they can be compared. That
on the right hand opens into an octagon vault, under
the emperor’s palace, and forms a perfect whispering
gallery, meant to be a communication between the of¬
fices of both houses.
Opposite to the door of the communa through which
you enter, is another leading into the quarto de los
leones, or apartments of the lions } which is an oblong
court, 100 feet in length and 50 in breadth, environ¬
ed witn a colonnade seven feet broad on the sides and 10
at the end. Two porticoes or cabinets about 15 feet
square, project into the court at the two extremities.
The square is paved with coloured tiles; the colonnade
with white marble. The walls are covered, five feet up
from the ground with blue and yellow tiles, disposed
chequerwise. Above and below is a border of small
escutcheons, enamelled blue and gold, with an Arabic
motto on a bend j signifying, “ No conqueror but
God.” The columns that support the roof and gal¬
lery are of white marble, very slender, and fantastically
adorned. They are nine feet high, including base and
capital, and eight inches and a half diameter. They
are very irregularly placed 5 sometimes singly, at others
in groups of three, but more frequently two together.
Ihe width of the horse-shoe arches above them is foui*
feet two inches for the large ones, and three for the
smaller. The ceiling of the portico is finished in a
much finer and more complicated manner than that of
the communa, and the stucco laid on the walls with in¬
imitable delicacy ; in the ceiling it is so artfully frosted
and handled as to exceed belief. The capitals are of
various designs, though each design is repeated several
times in the circumference of the court, but not the
least attention has been paid to placing them regularly
or opposite to each other. Not the smallest represen¬
tation of animal life can be discovered amidst the va¬
rieties of foliages, grotesques, and strange ornaments.
About each arch is a large square of arabesques, sur¬
rounded with a rim of characters, that are generally
quotations from the Koran. Over the pillars is ano¬
ther square of delightful filligree work. Higher up
is a wooden rim, or kind of cornice, as much enrich¬
ed with carving as the stucco that covers the part un¬
derneath. Over this projects a roof of red tiles, the
only thing that disfigures this beautiful square. This
ugly covering is a modern addition made by a late
prime minister, who a few years ago gave the Al¬
hambra a thorough repair. In Moorish times, the
building was covered with large painted and glazed
tiles, of which some few are still to be seen. In the
centre of the court are twelve ill-made lions muzzled,
their fore parts smooth, their hind parts rough, which
bear upon their backs an enormous bason, out of which
a l«sser rises. While the pipes were kept in good or¬
der, a great volume of water was thrown up, that, fall¬
ing down into the basons, passed through the beasts,
and issued out of their mouths into a large reservoir,
W'here it communicated by channels with the jets d’eau
in the apartments. This fountain is of white marble,
embellished with many festoons and Arabic distichs,
thus translated:
“ Seest thou not how the water flows copiously like
the Nile
4 S “ This
A L H [ 690 ] A L H
V,{nimbi's. “ This resembles a sea washing over its shores, tbreat-
 -v——» ening shipwreck to the mariner.”
“ This water runs abundantly, to give drink to the
lions.”
“ Terrible as the lion is our king in the day of
battle.”
“ The Nile gives glory to the king, and the lofty
mountains proclaim it.”
“ This garden is fertile in delights : God takes care
that no noxious animal shall approach it.”
“ The fair princess that walks in this garden, cover¬
ed with pearls, augments its beauty so much, that thou
may’st doubt whether it be a fountain that flows, or the
tears of her admirers.”
Passing along the colonnade, and keeping on the
south side, you come to a circular room occupied by the
men as a place for drinking cofl’ee, &c. A fountain in
the middle refreshed the apartment in summer. The
form of this hall, the elegance of its cupola, the cheer¬
ful distribution of light from above, and the exquisite
manner in which the stucco is designed, painted, and
finished, exceed all power of description. Every thing
in it inspires the most pleasing voluptuous ideas: yet in
this sweet retreat they pretend that Abouabdoulah as¬
sembled the Abencerrages, and caused their heads to
be struck off" into the fountain. Continuing your walk
round, you are next brought to a couple of rooms at
the head of the court, which are supposed to have been
tribunals or audience chambers.
Opposite to the So/a de los Abencerrages is the en¬
trance into the Torre de las dos hermanas, or the tower
of the two sisters ; so named from two very beautiful
pieces of marble laid as flags in the pavement. This
gate exceeds all the rest in profusion of ornaments, and
in beauty of prospect which it affords through a range
of apartments, where a multitude of arches terminate in
a large window open to the country. In a gleam of
sunshine, the variety of tints and lights thrown upon this
enfilade are uncommonly rich. The first hall is the
concert room, where the women sat j the musicians play¬
ed above in four balconies. In the middle is a jet d’eau.
The marble pavement is equal to the finest existing,
for the size of the flags and evenness of the colour.
The two sisters, which give name to the room, are
slabs that measure 15 feet by seven and a half, with¬
out flaw or stain. T-he walls, up to a certain height,
are mosaic, and above are divided into very neat com¬
partments of stucco, all of one design, which is also
followed in many of the adjacent haMs and galleries,
f he ceiling is a fretted cove. lo pieserve this vault¬
ed root, as well as some of the other principal cupolas,
the outward walls of the towers are raised 10 feet a-
bove the top of the dome, and support another roof
ever all, by which means no danger can ever be caus¬
ed by wet weather or excessive heat and cold. From
ihis hall you pass round the little myrtle garden of
Tdndaraxa, into an additional building made to the
cast end by Charles V. The rooms are small and low.
Ilis dear motto, Plus outrey appears on every beam.
This leads to a little tower, projecting from the line of
the north wall, called el tocador, or the dressing-room
of the sultana. It is a small square cabinet, in the
middle of an open gallery, from which it receives lio-ht
by a door and three windows. The look-out is charm¬
ing. In one corner is a large marble flag, drilled full
of holes, through which the smoke of perfumes ascend- Alhambra,
ed from furnaces below ; and here, it is presumed, the 1—y—-»
Moorish queen was wont to sit to fumigate and sweeten
her person. The emperor caused this pretty room to
be painted with representations of his wars, and a great
variety of grotesques, which appear to be copies, or at
least imitations, of those in the loggie of the Vatican.
From hence you go through a long passage to the
hall of ambassadors, which is magnificently decorated
with innumerable varieties of mosaics, and the mottos
of all the kings of Granada. This long narrow anti-
chamber opens into the communa on the left hand, and
on the right into the great audience hall in the tower
of Comares $ a noble apartment, 36 feet square, 36
high up to the cornice, and 18 from thence to the centre
of the cupola. The walls on three sides are 15 feet
thick, on the other nine j the lower range of windows
13 feet high. The whole wall is inlaid with mosaic of
many colours, disposed in intricate knots, stars, and
other figures. In every part various Arabic sentences
are repeated.
Having thus completed the tour of the upper apart¬
ments, which are upon a level with the offices of the
new palace, you descend to the lower floor, which
consisted of bedchambers and summer-rooms j the back
stairs and passages, that facilitated the intercourse be¬
tween them, are without number. The most remark¬
able room below is the king’s bedchamber, which
communicated by means of a gallery with the upper
story. The beds were placed in two alcoves, upon a
raised pavement of blue and white tiles $ but as it was
repaired by Philip V. who'passed some time here, it
cannot be said how it may have been in former times.
A fountain played in the middle, to refresh the apart¬
ment in hot weather. Behind the alcoves are small
doors, that conduct you to the royal baths. These
consist of one small closet with marble cisterns for
washing children, two rooms for grown up persons, and
vaults for boilers and furnaces that supplied the baths
with water and the stoves with vapours. The troughs
are formed of large slabs of white marble j the walls are
beautiful with party-coloured earthen ware j light is ad¬
mitted by holes in the coved ceiling.
Hard by is a whispering gallery, and a kind of laby¬
rinth, said to have been made for the diversion of the
women and children. One of the passages of commu¬
nication is fenced oft’ with a strong iron grate, and call¬
ed the prisoti of the Sultana ; but it seems more probable
that it was put up to prevent any body from climbing
up into the women’s quarter.
Under the council-room is a long slip, called the
king's study ; and adjoining to it are several vaults said
to be the place of burial of the royal family. In the
year 1374, four sepulchres were opened j but as they
contained nothing but bones and ashes, were immedi¬
ately closed again.
This description of the Alhambra may be finished
by observing how admirably every thing was planned
and calculated for rendering this palace the most vo¬
luptuous ot all retirements } what plentiful supplies of
water were brought to refresh it in the hot months of
summer; what a free circulation of air was contrived,
by the judicious disposition of doors and windows;
what shady gardens of aromatic trees ; what noble
views over the beautiful hills and fertile plains ? No
wonder
A L I [69
wonder the Moors regretted Granada ! no wonder that
they still offer up prayers to God every Friday for the
recovery of this city, which they regard as a terrestrial
paradise !
ALT, the son of Abu Taleb, is one of the most ce¬
lebrated characters in Mahometan history. He was
cousin to Mahomet; and at the age of fourteen enga¬
ged with youthful ardour in his cause. When Maho¬
met first revealed his prophetic character to his friends,
and inquired who among them would undertake to
be his companion, Ali exclaimed, “ O Prophet, I
will be thy attendant j the man who dares to rise
against thee I will break his legs, pluck out his eyes,
dash out his teeth, and even rip up his belly.” Ma¬
homet accepted his services, and honoured him with
the titles of brother, vicegerent, and Aaron to a new
Moses. He was remarkable both for eloquence and
valour-, and the latter obtained him the surname of
“ the Lion of God, always victorious.” He succeeded
to the chief dignity of the renowned house of Hashem,
and was also hereditary guardian of the temple and
city of Mecca. Mahomet gave him his daughter Fa-
timah in marriage, and the grandfather lived to em¬
brace the children of his daughter. These advantages
induced Ali to cast a wistful eye towards the regal
succession ; however, Abubeker, Omar, and Othman,
reigned before him. But after the death of the latter
he was saluted caliph by the chiefs of the tribes, and
companions of the Prophet, when he was repairing to
the mosque of Medina at the hour of prayer, A. 1). 655.
Hegir. 35.
Ayesha, the widow of the Prophet, strenuously op¬
posed his succession 5 and under her influence two power¬
ful chiefs soon raised the standard of rebellion. Ali
greatly increased his difficulties by the imprudent re¬
moval of all the governors of provinces from their sta¬
tions. Telha and Zobeir, two chiefs of great influence,
collected a numerous army, and induced Ayesha to at¬
tend them to the field of battle j but Ali gained a com¬
plete victory, and took Ayesha prisoner. Telha fell in
the field, and Zobeir was assassinated after surrendering
upon promise of quarter. This dastardly action was se¬
verely reprehended by Ali. He likewise kindly treat¬
ed the captive widow, and sent her back to the tomb
of the Prophet.
Ali next attacked Moawiyah, who had been pro¬
claimed caliph, and strongly supported by a powerful
and numerous party. When the two armies approach¬
ed each other, Ali proposed to decide the matter by
smgle combat, but to this his opponent would not agree.
Several skirmishes were fought with considerable loss
on both sides j but at length a pious fraud produced a
division of sentiment in the army of Ali. They fixed
to the points of lances a number of copies of the Ko¬
ran, carried them before the troops, and exclaimed,
raying, ii This is the book which forbids Mussulmans
to shed each others blood, and ought therefore to de¬
cide our disputes.” Ali was constrained to yield,
and umpires were mutually chosen j on the side of
Ah, Abu Mdussa , Amru, the conqueror of Egypt on
the part of Moawiyah. The day of final decision ar¬
rived. Abu Moussa ascended the pulpit, and cried,
” As I draw this ring from my finger, so I depose
both All and Moawiyah from the caliphate.” When
Amru ascended, he cried, “ As I put on this ring, so
1 ] ALI
I invest Moawiyah with the caliphate, and also depose
Ali.” He also added, that Othman the former caliph
had declared Moawiyah both his successor and avenger.
Thus began that memorable contest among the Maho¬
metans which was long agitated with considerable vio¬
lence by both parties.
Ali was highly enraged at this injustice j but con¬
strained for the present to yield, he retired to Kufa. A
sect of enthusiasts called the Kharejites revolted against
Ali j but he quickly reduced them to subjection, and
again obtained possession of Arabia. But Syria, Per¬
sia and Egypt fell to the share of his rival.
An unexpected event terminated the existing disputes.
Three Kharejites one day conversing together concern¬
ing the blood which had been shed, and the impending
calamities, resolved to assassinate All, Mnawiyah, and
Amru, the three authors of the present disasters. They
provided themselves with poisoned swords, and hastened
to accomplish their purpose. Moawiyah was wounded,
but the wound did not prove fatal. A friend of Amru
fell in his stead. Ali was fatally wounded at the door
of the mosque j and in the sixty-third year of his age,
he expired on the fifth day after his wound, A. D. 660.
A. Hegir. 40.
Ali had eight wives besides Fatimah, and left a nu¬
merous family, who were very remarkable for their va¬
lour. He also rose to high eminence for learning and
wisdom; and of his works there are still extant a hun¬
dred maxims, a collection of verses, and a prophecy of
all the great events which are to happen to the end of
time. One of his sayings may be quoted as an example.
“ He who would be rich without wealth, powerful
without subjects, and a subject without a master, has
only to forsake sin, and serve God.”
The Mussulmans term Ali the heir of Mahomet, and
the accepted of God, and his particular followers have
possessed various states in Africa and Asia, and the Per¬
sian part of the Usbec T artars j and some sovereigns of
India are at present of the sect of Ali. A monument
is raised upon his tomb near Kufa, which the kings of
Persia have successively decorated and religiously rever¬
ed. Near the ruins of Kufa a city named Meshed Ali
has been built to his memory. Some of his deluded
followers imagine that he is still alive, and that he will
revisit the earth and fill the same with justice. A green
turban still continues to distinguish the descendants of
Ali. ( Gen. Biog.)
Ali Bey, an eastern adventurer, is said to have been
a native of Mount Caucasus, and about the age of
twelve or fourteen he was sold for a slave in Cairo.
The two Jews who became his masters presented him
to Ibrahim, then one of the most respectable men in the
kingdom. In the family of this powerful man he re¬
ceived the rudiments of literature, and was also in¬
structed in the military art. Both in letters and mili¬
tary skill he made a rapid improvement. He gradually
gained the affection of his patron to such a degree, that
he gave him his freedom, permitted him to marry, pro¬
moted him to the rank of governor of a district, and
afterwards by election he was raised to the elevated
station of one of the governors of provinces. Deprived
of his protector by death, and engaging in the danger¬
ous intrigues that pave the way to power in that un¬
stable government, he procured his own banishment td
Upper Egypt. Here he spent two years in maturing
4 S 2 his
A L I r 692 ] a L I
Aii, his schemes for future greatness, and in 1766, return-
ing to Cairo, he either slew or expelled the beys, and
seized the reins of government.
Emboldened by success, he rescued himself from the
power of the Porte, coined money in his own name,
and boldly assumed the rank of sultan of Egypt. Oc¬
cupied in more important concerns, the Porte made no
vigorous opposition to his measures, and Ali Bey seized
this favourable opportunity to recover a part of the
Said or Upper Egypt, which had been taken by an
Arab shaik. Next he sent out a fleet from Suez,
which seized upon Djedda, entered the port of Mecca j
while a body of cavalry, commanded by Mohammed
Bey his favourite, took and plundered Mecca itself. A
young Venetian merchant laid before him a plan of
reviving the ancient trade to the East Indies through
the Mediterranean and Red seas. Having formed an
alliance in 1770, with one Shaik Daher, a rebel a-
gainst the Porte in Syria, he aimed at the conquest of
all Syria and Palestine. He first endeavoured to se¬
cure Gaza ; then his army forming a junction with that
of Halier at a place called Acre, advanced to Hamas-
cus. On the 6th of June 1771, a battle was fought at
this place with the Turkish pachas, and Mohammed and
Daher the commanders of Ali Bey routed them with
great slaughter. They instantly took possession of Da¬
mascus, and the castle itself had also capitulated, when
all on a sudden Mohammed hastened back to Egypt
with all his Mamelukes. Some ascribe this strange con¬
duct to an impression made upon Mohammed by the
Turkish agents, and others to a report of the death of
Ali Bey.
Although unsuccessful, Ali Bey never lost sight of
his favourite object, and Mohammed losing his confi¬
dence was forced to save his life by exile. Mohammed,
however, quickly returned with an army, and drove Ali
Bey from Cairo. In this unfortunate state of affairs
Ali Bey fled to Daher, and combining their forces,
they attacked the Turkish commander at Sidon, and
came oft victorious, although the Turkish army vvas
three times their number. After a siege of eight months
they next took the town of Jaffa. Deceived by letters
from Cairo which were only intended to ensnare him,
and stimulated with recent victories, he returned to
Cairo. Entering the deserts which divide Gaza from
Egypt, he was furiously attacked by a thousand chosen
Mamelukes led on by Murad Bey, who was enamoured
with the beauty of Ali Bey’s wife, and had obtained
the promise of her, provided that he could take Ali
Bey captive. Murad wounded and made Ali Bey pri¬
soner, and carried him up to Mohammed, who received
him with affected respect: but in three days, either in
consequence of poison or the effects of his wounds, Ali
breathed his last.
Ali Bey was certainly a singular production in the
school of ignorance and barbarity, and displayed a very
great degree of original vigour of character and active
penetration ol mind. He is blamed lor engaging in
enterprises beyond his power to accomplish but he is
acknowledged to have been very favourable to the
Franks, and to have governed Egypt with no small
degree of steady moderation. He is also charged with
devolving too much upon his lieutenants, and not be-
,ing sufficiently attentive to the exactions made by his
officers. Among his failings may also be ranked that
of an unbounded confidence in his favourite. Generosity ^
and a sense of justice were not wanting in his character, || Jli
although his morals, under the sanction of his class and Alien,
country, were strongly tainted with perfidy and murder ’ J
in the pursuit of his ambitious plans. Gen. Biog.')
ALJAMEIA, is a name which the Moriscoes in
Spain give to the language of the Spaniards. Among
other articles agreed on by the junta, which was ap¬
pointed by the emperor Charles V. in 1526, in favour
of the Moriscoes, this was one, That the Moriscoes
should no longer speak Algavareia, i. e. Moorish, or
Arabic ; but should all speak Aljameia, i. e. Spanish,
as it was called by the Moors, and all their writings and
contracts should be in that language.
ALIAS, in Law, a second or farther writ issued
from the courts of Westminster, after a capias, &.c.
sued out without effect.
ALIBI, in Law, denotes the absence of the accused
from the place where he is charged with having com¬
mitted a crime ; or his being elsewhere, as the word
imports, at the time specified.
ALICANT, a large sea-port town in the province
of Valencia, and territory of Segura. It is seated be¬
tween the mountains and the sea, and has a castle
deemed impregnable. The port is defended by three
bastions furnished with artillery. To prevent the visits
of the Algerine pirates, watch-towers were built to
give notice of the approach of an enemy’s ship. It
was taken from the Moors in 1264. The castle was
taken by the English in 1706, and held out a siege of
two years before it was retaken by the French and Spa¬
niards, and at last surrendered upon honourable terms,
after part of the rock was blown up on which the castle
stood, and the governor killed. The houses are high,
and well built j and a trade is carried on here in wine,
fruit, and soap. It is seated on the Mediterranean, on
a bay of the same name, 37 miles north-east ofMurcia,
and 75 south of Valencia, and contains about 16,950
inhabitants. W. Long. o. 36. N. Lat. 38. 24.
ALICATA, a mountain of Sicily, near the valleys
Mazara and Noto, upon which was situated (as is ge¬
nerally thought) the famous Daedalion, where the ty¬
rant Fhalaris kept his brazen bull.
Alicata, a town of Sicily, remarkable for corn and
good wine. It was plundered by the Turks in 1543 j
is seated on a sort of peninsula near the sea, 22 miles
south-east of Girgenti, and contains 2700 houses. E.
Long. 14. 2. N. Lat. 37.11.
Alicata Chlamys, was a sort of vest with sleeves
worn by the Roman boys till the age of thirteen, at
which time they put on t\\z pretexta.
ALIEN, in Law, implies a person born in a strange
country, not within the king’s allegiance 5 in contra¬
distinction to a denizen or natural subject. The word
is formed from the Latin alius, “ another j” q. d. one
born in another country. An alien is incapable of in¬
heriting lauds in Britain till naturalized by an act of
parliament. No alien is entitled to vote at the elec¬
tion of members of parliament: nor can he enjoy any
office, or be returned on any jury, unless where an
alien is party in a cause, when the inquest is composed
of an equal number of denizens and aliens. The rea¬
sons for establishing these laws were, that every man
is presumed to bear faith and love to that prince and
country where he received protection during his infan¬
cy ;
A L I [693
Alien, cy j and that one prince might not settle spies in ano-
Alicnatioii. ther’s country 5 but chiefly that the rents and revenues
of the country might not be drawn to the subjects of
another. Some have thought that the laws against
aliens were introduced in the time of Henry II. when
a law was made at the parliament of Wallingford, for
the expulsion of strangers, in order to drive away' the
Flemings arid Picards introduced into the kingdom by
the wars of King Stephen. Others have thought that
* the origin of (his law was more ancient; and that it
is an original branch of the feudal law : for by that
law no man can purchase any lands but he must be
obliged to do fealty to the lords of whom the lands are
holden j so that an alien who owed a previous faith to
another prince, could not take an oath of fidelity in
another sovereign’s dominions. Among the Komans
only the Gives Romani were esteemed freemen j but
when their territories increased, all the Italians were
made free under the name of Latins, though they had
not the privilege of wearing gold rings till the time oi
Justinian. Afterwards all born within the pale of the
empire were considered as citizens.
ALIEN-Duty, an impost laid on all goods imported by
aliens, over and above the customs paid for such goods
imported by British subjects, and on British bottoms.
AhiENS-Duty is otherwise called petty customs, and
navigation-duty.—Fish dried or salted, and cod-fish or
herrings not caught in British vessels and cured by Bri¬
tish subjects, pay a double aliens-duty.—On what foot¬
ing aliens are permitted to import foreign commodities
into Great Britain, see Duty.
Alien Priories, a kind of inferior monasteries, for¬
merly very numerous in England, and so called from
their belonging to foreign abbeys.
ALIENATION, in Law, denotes the act of ma¬
king over a man’s property in lands, tenements, &c. to
another person.
Alienation in mortmain, is the making over lands,
tenements, &c. to a body politic, or to a religious house,
for which the king’s license must first be obtained,
otherwise the lands, &c. alienated will be forfeited.
Alienation in fee is the selling the fee-simple of
any land or other incorporeal right. All persons
who have a right to lands may generally alien them
to others : but some alienations are prohibited j such
as alienations by tenants for life, &c. whereby they
incur a forfeiture of their estate. By the statute of Ed¬
ward I. a bar was put to alienations by what we call
entails, which is an expedient for procuring perpetui¬
ties in families *, but counter-expedients were devised
to defeat this intent, and a practice was introduced of
cutting off entails by fines, and of barring remainders
and reversions by recoveries. The statute for aliena¬
tion in Henry VII.’s time had a great eft'ect on the
constitution of this kingdom j as, among other regu¬
lations of that reign, it tended to throw the balance
of power more into the hands of the people. By the
stat. 12 Car. II. cap. 24. fines for alienations are ta¬
ken away. Crown lands are only alienable under a
faculty of perpetual redemption. The council of La¬
teral], held in 1123, forbids any clerk to alienate his
benefice, prebend, or the like, By the laws of the
ancient Jews, lands could only be alienated for the
space of 50 years. At each return of the jubilee all
returned again to the primitive owners, or their de-
] A L I
scendants, to whom the lands were originally al’otted A];ena,;0H
at the first distribution of Canaan. Aliment. *
Alienation-0ffice, is an office to which all writs of ~-"~v 1
covenants and entry, upon which fines are levied, and
recoveries suffered, are carried, to have fines for aliena¬
tion set and paid thereon.
ALIMENT (from alo, to nourish), implies food
both solid and liquid : from which, by the process of
digestion, is prepared a very mild, sweet, and whitish
liquor, resembling milk, and distinguished by the name
of chyle; which being absorbed by the lacteal veins,
by them conveyed into the circulation, and there assi¬
milated into the nature of blood, aflords that supply
of nutrition which the continual waste of the body is
found to require.—Next to air, food is the most neces¬
sary thing for the preservation of our bodies : and as
on the choice thereof our health greatly depends, it is.
of great importance to understand, in general, what is
the properest for our nourishment 3 and, in particular
deviations from health, what is the best adapted to re¬
store us. 'I he blood and fluids naturally incline to
waste and diminish : fresh chyle, duly received, pre¬
vents this waste and diminution, and preserves in
them that mild state which alone consists with health.
An animal diet affords the most of this bland nutritious
mucilage 3 watery fluids dilute the too gross parts, and
carry off what is become unfit for use. It is only the
small portion of jelly which is separated from the fa¬
rinaceous parts of vegetables, that, after being much
elaborated, is converted into the animal nature 3 yet
the use of vegetables prevents both repletion and a
too great tendency to a putrescent acrimony of the
blood. In hot climates, as well as against the consti¬
tutional heat of. particular persons, vegetables are de¬
manded in the largest proportion. Animal substances^
afford the highest relish while our appetite continues 3
but will sate the appetite before the stomach is duly fill¬
ed. Vegetables may be eaten after either flesh or fish:
few herbs or fruits satiate so much as that the stomach
may not be filled with them, when it is already satis¬
fied with flesh or fish 3 whence it may be observed, that
no diet which is very nourishing can be eaten to ful¬
ness, because its nutritious parts are oily and satiating.
Health depends almost wholly on a proper crasis of the
blood; and to preserve this, a mixture of vegetables in
some degree is always required, for a loathing is soon
the consequence of animal food alone : hot acrid habits,
too, receive from milk and vegetables the needful for
correcting their excesses 3 but in cold, pituitous, and
nervous habits, who want most nourishment from least
digestion, and from the smallest quantity of food* ani"
mal diet is to be used more freely.
Thus much being offered as general principles with
respect to the matter and quality of our aliment, the
valetudinarian may easily regulate his diet with some
advantage to himself by an attention to the few enstir
ing particulars. In winter, eat freely, but drink spa¬
ringly : roast meat is to be preferred, and what is drank
should be stronger than at other seasons. In summer,
let thirst determine the quantity to be drunk 3 cold
stomachs never require much: boiled meats and vegeta¬
bles, if not otherwise contraindicated, may now be more
freely used. Lax habits require the winter’s diet to
be continued all the year, and rigid ones should be
confined Jto that of summer. Fat people should fast
at
A L I [ 694 ] A L K
Aliment times, but the lean should never do so. Those who
U are troubled with eructations occasioned by their food
Aliqaftnt. should drink but little, and use some unaccustomed ex-
   1 ercise. The thirsty should drink freely, but eat spa¬
ringly. In general, let moderation be observed j and
though no dinner hath been had, a light supper is at
all times to be preferred. After very high seasoned
meats, a glass of water acidulated with the acid elixir
of vitriol, or in very weak stomachs the sweet elixir of
vitriol, is far more assistant to the work of digestion
than brandy. See Food and Drink in this work, and
Dietetics in the Supplement.
Obligation of Aliment, in Scots Law, the natural
obligation on parents to provide their children with the
necessaries of life, &c. See Taw Index.
Alimentaiiii Pueri, &c. were certain children main¬
tained and educated by the munificence of the empe¬
rors, in a sort of public places, not unlike our hospi¬
tals.—Trajan was the first who brought up any of these
alimentary boys. He was imitated by Adrian. An¬
toninus Pius did the same for a number of maids, at
the solicitation of Faustina; and hence, in some medals
of that empress, we read pvellae Favstinianae.—
Alexander Severus did the like at the request of Mam-
nisea ; and the maids thus educated were called Mam-
mceance.
Alimentary Duct or Canal, is a name given by Dr
Tyson and some others to that part of the body through
which the food passes from its reception into the mouth
to its exit at the anus; including the gula, stomach,
and intestines. See Anatomy.
This duct has been said to be the true characteristic
of an animal, or (in the jargon of the schools) in pro-
prium quarto modo; no animal being without it.
Plants receive their nourishment by the numerous fi¬
bres of their roots : but have no common receptacle
for digesting the food received, or for carrying off the
recrements. But in all, even the lowest degree of
animal life, we may observe a stomach and intestines,
even where we cannot perceive the least formation of
any organ of the senses, unless that common one of
feeling, as in oysters. Phil. Trans. N° 269, p. 776,
et seq.
Dr Wallis brings an argument from the structure of
the alimentary tube in man, to prove that he is not
naturally carnivorous j to which Dr Tyson makes some
objections. Vid. Phil. Trans. N° 260. p. 777.
Alimentary Law, lex alimentaria, was an old law
among the Romans, whereby children were obliged to
find sustenance for their parents. »
ALIMONY, in Larv, implies that allowance which
a married woman sues for, and is entitled to, upon any
occasional separation from her husband. See Law
Index.
^•■klPILARIUS, or Alipilus, in Roman antiqui¬
ty, a servant belonging to the baths, whose business
it was, by means of waxen plasters, and an instrument
called volsella, to take off the hair from the arm-pits
and even arms, legs, &c. this being deemed a point of
cleanliness.
ALIPTERIUM, aXsurfyiw, in antiquity, a place in
the anciznl palestrce, where the athletes were anointed
before their exercises.
ALIQUANT part, in Arithmetic, is that number
which cannot measure any other exactly without some
3
remainder. Thus 7 is an aliquant part of 16} for AJiqBo?
twice 7 wants two of 16, and three times 7 exceeds 16 ||
by 5. Alkenucs,
ALIQUOT part, is that part of a number or quan- ^
tity which will exactly measure it without any remain¬
der. Thus 2 is an aliquot part of 4, 3 of 9, 4 of 16,
&c.
ALISANDERS, or Alexanders, in Botany. See
Smyrnium, Botany Index.
ALISONTIA, or Alisuntia, in Ancient Geography,
a river of Belgic Gaul, now Alsit%; which, rising on the
borders of Lorrain, and running through that duchy,
waters the city of Luxemburgh, and, swelled by other
rivulets, falls into the Sur.
ALITES, in Roman antiquity, a designation given
to such birds as afforded matter of auguries by their
flight.
ALKADARII, a sect among the Mahometans who
deny any eternal, fixed, divine decrees, and are asser-
tors of free-will. The word is formed from the Ara¬
bic alkadar, which signifies “ decree.” The Alkadarii
are a branch of Motazalites, and stand opposed to the
Algiabarii. See AlgiaBARII.
ALKAHEST, or Alcahest, among alchemists,
derived from a word which signifies spirit of salt or
all spirit, was supposed to be an universal menstruum,
capable of resolving all bodies into their principles.
Van Helmont pretended he was possessed of such a men¬
struum.—It is likewise used by some authors for all fix¬
ed salts volatilized.
ALKALI, in Chemistry, denotes a particular class
of salts. The word alkali is of Arabian origin, and
was introduced into chemistry after it had been applied
to a plant which still retains the name of kali. When
this plant is burnt, the ashes washed in water, and the
water evaporated to dryness, a white substance remains,
which was called alkali. According to Albertus Mag¬
nus, who uses the word, it signifies /iej? amaritudinis,
“ the dregs of bitterness.” Alkali may be obtained
from other substances beside kali. Chemists gradually
discovered that bodies, differing from one another in
several of their properties, had been confounded to¬
gether under the same name. The word, in conse¬
quence, became general, and is now applied to all bo¬
dies which possess the following properties: 1. Incom¬
bustible. 2. A hot caustic taste. 3. Volatilized by
heat. 4. Soluble in water even when combined with
carbonic acid. 5. Capable of converting vegetable
blues to green.
The alkalies at present known are three in number:
1. Potass; 2. Soda; 3. Ammonia. The two first are
ca\\e.A fixed alkalies, because they require a red heat to,
volatilize them ; the last is called volatile alkali, because
it readily assumes a gaseous form, and consequently is
dissipated by a very moderate degree of heat. See
Chemistry Index.
Alkali, or Sal Kali. See Salicornia, Botany
Index.
ALKANET. See Anchusa, Botany Index.
ALKEKENG1, the trivial name of a species of
physalis. See Physalis, Botany Index.
ALKENNA. See Lawsonia, Botany Index.
ALKERMES, in Pharmacy, a compound cordial
medicine made in the form of a confection, deriving ita
name from the kermes berries used in its composition.
ALKORAN,
t
Alkeran
i!
Allabsbnd.
ALL
ALKORAN. See Alcorav.
ALL-Hallows. See All Saints.
^ All-Good. See Chenopodium, Botany Index.
All-Heal. See Heracleum and Stackys, Bo¬
tany Index.
ALL-Sarnts, in the Kalendar, denotes a festival ce¬
lebrated on the first of November, in commemoration
of all the saints in general $ which is otherwise called
All-Hallows. The number of saints being so excessive¬
ly multiplied, it was found too burdensome to dedicate
a feast day to each. In reality, there are not days
enough, scarce hours enough, in the year, for this pur¬
pose. Hence an expedient was had recourse to, by
commemorating such in the lump as had not their own
days. Boniface IV. in the ninth century, introduced
the feast of All-Saints in Italy, which was soon after
adopted in the other churches.
ALL-Saints, islands near Gaudaloupe in the West
Indies.
ALL-Saifits, a parish in Georgetown district, South
Carolina, containing 2225 inhabitants, of whom 429
are whites, and 1795 slaves. It sends a member to
each house of the state legislature.
ALL-Saints Bay, a spacious harbour near St Salvador
in Brazil, in S. America, on the Atlantic ocean. W.
Long. 490. S. Lat. 129.
ALL-Saints Bay, a captainship in the middle division
of Brazil, so called from the harbour of that name;
bounded on the north by the Rio Real; on the south
by that ot Las Ilheos ; on the east by the ocean ; and
on the west by three unconquere.d nations of Indians.
It is reckoned one of the richest and most fertile cap¬
tainships in all Brazil, producing great quantities of
cotton and sugaf. The bay itself is about two and a
half leagues over, interspersed with a number of small
but pleasant islands, and is of prodigious advantage to
the whole country. It has several cities and towns,
particularly St Salvador, which is its capital. All-
Saints Bay lies in S. Lat. 12. 3. W. Long. 40. 10.
See Salvador.
All-SouIs, in the Kalendar, denotes a feast-day,
held on the second of November, in commemoration of
all the faithful deceased.—The feast of All-Souls was
first introduced in the eleventh century, by Odilon
abbot of Cluny, who enjoined it on his own order ;
but it was not long before it became adopted by the
neighbouring churches.
ALL-Spice. See Myrtus and Calycanthus, Bo¬
tany Index.
ALLA, or Allah, the name by which the profes¬
sors of Mahometanism call the Supreme Being.
The term alia is Arabic, derived from the verb alah,
to adore. It is the same with the Hebrew Eloah, which
signifies the Adorable Being.
ALLAHABAD, in Geography, a province of Hin-
dostan, about 160 miles in length, and 120 in breadth.
Its eastern boundaries meet the province of Bahar, the
southern Berar, the western Malwa and Agra, and the
northern Oude. According to the distribution of the
emperor Akbar, recorded in the Ayeen Akberry, it
contains 10 circars or counties, which are divided into
177 pergunnahs or hundreds. According to the state¬
ment of Maurice, in his Indian Antiquities, it affords a
revenue of 3,310,695 sicca rupees. ^ contributes to
695 ] • all
the public service 3 23 elephants, 237,870 infantry, amt AUaL.bad
1I>375 cavalry, ihe whole of this extensive province
try. iue wnoie or mis extensive province
has been by conquest or treaty brought under the Bri¬
tish government. Allahabad, Benares, and Iconpour,
are the principal cities.
Allahabad, the capital of the above province,
is situated at the confluence of the great rivers Jumna
and Ganges. Ihis city is divided into two parts,
called the Old and the Kew down .■ The old is situa¬
ted upon the Ganges, and the new upon the Jumna..
The emperor Akbar erected a strong fortress of stone,
which occupies a large space in this city, and from him
it received its present name. Of this fortress, Mr
Hodges, in N° ]V. of his Select Views in India, gives
an accurate and elegant delineation. A pillar consist¬
ing of one stone 40 feet high, ascribed by tradition to
Bima, one of the heroes of Mahabarat, wholly co¬
vered with illegible inscriptions, and the elegant tomb
of Sultan Khusru, are excellent specimens of Mahome¬
tan architecture. Devotion has fixed her residence, and
flourishes to such a degree in this city, that it hath ob¬
tained the appellation of “ the king of worshipped pla¬
ces.” According to the evidence of the Ayeen-Ak¬
berry, the adjacent territory, to the extent of 40 miles,
is deemed holy ground. The Hindoos deem it a meri¬
torious action for a man to slay himself here, although
they teach that suicide will be punished with torments
in a future state. In and about this city there are va¬
rious objects of veneration, which immense numbers of
pilgrims continue to visit with great devotion. Major
Rennel has placed Palibothra on the same site with
Patna; but Dr Robertson is of opinion that the ancient
Palibothra is the modern city of Allahabad. N. Lat.
25. 27. E. Long. 82. 5.
ALLAMANDA, in Botany. See Botany Index.
ALLAN, David, a Scottish historical painter.
See Supplement.
Allan, a river of Perthshire, in Scotland, which
passes by Dunblane, and falls into the Forth near
Stirling.
ALLANTOIS, or Allantoides, a thin trans¬
parent bag investing the foetus of quadrupeds, as cows,
goats, sheep, &c. filled with an urinous liquor conveyed
to it from the bladder of the young animals by means
of the urachus. See Anatomy Index.
. ALLAT1US, Leo, keeper of the Vatican library,
a native of Scio, and a celebrated writer of the 17th
century. He was of great service to the gentlemen of
Port Royal in the controversy they had with M. Claude
touching the belief of the Greeks with regard to the
eucharist. No Latin was ever more devoted to the see
of Rome, or more inveterate against the Greek schis¬
matics, than Allatius. He never was married ; nor
did he take orders ; and Pope Alexander VII. having
asked him one day, why he did not enter into orders? he
answered, Because I would not be free to marry.” The
pope rejoined, “ if so, why do you not marry ? “ Be¬
cause,” replied Allatius, “ I would not be at liberty
to take orders.” Thus, as Mr Bayle observes, he
passed his whole life, wavering betwixt a parish and a
wife; sorry, perhaps at his death, for having chosen
neither of them; when, if he had fixed upon one, he
might have repented his choice for 30 or 40 years.—-
If we believe John Patricius, Allatius had a very ex¬
traordinary.
Allatius
ALL r 696 ] ALL
A.iiatius traordinary pen* with which, and no otlier, he wrote
II Greek for 40 years ; at the loss of which, he was so
Alleghany. grjeVed as to lament it with tears. He published se-
^ Veral manuscripts, several translations of Greek authors,
and several pieces of his own composing. In his works
I',? discovers more erudition and industry than sound
judgment. His manner of writing is diffuse and per¬
plexed, making frequent digressions from one subject
to another. He died at Rome, in 1669, aged 83.
ALLAY. See Alloy.
ALLECTUS, the prime minister and confidential
friend of Carausius, emperor of Britain. In order to
avoid the punishment due to the several enormous crimes
with which he was chargeable, he fell upon the desperate
expedient of murdering his master, and usurping the
imperial dignity, which he maintained for three years.
"With a design of recovering Britain, Constantius about
this period fitted out a large squadron, which being as¬
sembled in the mouth of the Seine, the command was
devolved upon the prefect Asclepiodotus. The fleet
of Allectus was stationed off the Isle of Wight to re-
ceive them ; but under the cover of a thick fog, the in¬
vaders escaped their notice, and landed in safety on the
western coast, and, according to Gibbon, convinced
the Britons “ that a superiority of naval strength will
not always protect their country from a foreign in¬
vasion.” No sooner had the intrepid commander dis¬
embarked his forces, than he set fire to his ships, and
marched forward to meet the enemy. In expectation
of an attack from Constantius, who commanded the
fleet off Boulogne, the usurper had taken his station in
the vicinity of London ; but informed of the descent of
Asclepiodotus, he made forced marches to oppose his
progress. Allectus attacked the imperial troops, and
his army being reduced to a small number of fatigued
and dispirited men, he fell in the field, and his forces
received a total defeat. Thus, in one day, and by a
single battle, the fate of this great island was decided ;
and Britain, after a separation of 10 years, was restored
to the Roman empire, A. D. 297. Constantius land¬
ing on the shores of Kent, was saluted with the loud
applauses and unanimous acclamation of obedient sub¬
jects, and welcomed to the British soil.
ALLEGATA, a word anciently subscribed at the
bottom of rescripts and constitutions of the emperors ;
as signata, or testata, was under other instruments.
ALLEGEAS, or Allegias, a stuff manufactured
in the East Indies. There are two sorts of them : some
are of cotton, and others of several kinds of herbs,
which are spun like flax and hemp. Their length and
kreadth are of eight ells, by five, six, or seven eighths j
and of twelve ells, by three-fourths or five-eighths.
ALLEGHANY mountains, between the Atlantic
ocean, the Mississippi river, and the lakes, are a long
and broad range of mountains, made up of a great num¬
ber of ridges, extending north-easterly and south-west-
eiiy, nearly parallel to the sea coast, about 900 miles
in length, and from 60 to 150 miles in breadth. The
different ridges which compose this immense range of
mountains, have different names in the different states,
viz. the Blue Bulge, the North mountain, or North
ridge, or Devil's Back-Bone, Laurel ridge, Jackson's
mountains, and Kittatinny mountains. All these dif¬
ferent and immense ridges, except the Alleghany, are
broken through by rivers, which appear to have forced Alleghany
their way through solid rocks. This principal ridge is Allegiance’,
more immediately called Alleghany, and is descrip- —v/-~w
lively named the Back bone of the United States. From
these several ridges proceed innumerable branches, or
spurs. The general name of the whole range, taken
collectively, is the Alleghany mountains. Mr Evans
calls them the Endless mountains; others have called
them the Appalachian mountains, from a tribe of In¬
dians who live on a river which proceeds from this
mountain, called the Appalachicola ; but the most com¬
mon name is the Alleghany mountains, so called, pro¬
bably, from the principal ridge of the range.
They pass through the states eastward of the Mis¬
sissippi like a spine or back-bone, and give rise to
nearly all the rivers in that region. They approach
the sea at New York, but take a direction inland from
that point, and in Georgia are above 200 miles from
the sea. They are generally covered with natural wood,
and capable of cultivation, with some exceptions. The
soil in the valleys between the ridges is found to be su¬
perior to that between the mountains and the sea, and
and is indeed among the best in the United States. To¬
wards the northern extremity of the Alleghanies, the
primitive rocks cover a great breadth of country j but
southward of New York they are chiefly confined to
the eastern slope of the mountains. A zone of transi¬
tion rocks from 20 to 40 miles in breadth, extends near¬
ly the whole length of the chain ; and beyond this to
the westward the country is chiefly limestone. They
are not confusedly scattered, but run along in ridges
generally of a uniform height, estimated on an average
at 3000 feet. The ground rises to them from the sea
so gradually that their height does not strike the eye
much. They contain a considerable variety of mine¬
rals, and on the western side great beds of coal.
Alleghasy River, in Pennyslvania, rises on the
western side of the Alleghany mountains, and after
running about 200 miles in a south-west direction, meets
the Monongahela at Pittsburg, and both united form
the Ohio. The lands on each side of this river, for
150 miles above Pittsburg, consist of white oak and
chesnut ridges, and in many places of poor pitch pines,
interspersed with tracts of good land, and low mea¬
dows. This river, and the Ohio likewise, from its head
waters until it enters the Mississippi, are known and
called by the name of Alleghany River, by the Seneka
and other tribes of the Six Nations, who once inha¬
bited it.
ALLEGIANCE, in Law, is the tie, or ligamen,
which binds the subject to the king, in return for that
protection which the king affords the subject. The
thing itself, or substantial part of it, is founded in rea¬
son and the nature of government $ the name and the
form are derived to us from our Gothic ancestors. Un¬
der the feodal system, every owner of lands held them in
subjection to some superior or lord, from whom or from
whose ancestors the tenant or vassal had received them ;
and there was a mutual trust or confidence subsisting
between the lord and vassal, that the lord should protect
the vassal in the enjoyment of the territory he had grant¬
ed him ; and, on the other hand, that the vassal should be
faithful to the lord, and defend him against all hisenemies,
This obligation on the part of the vassal was called hi#
2 f delitas
ALL [ 697
I Allegiance fidelitas or fealty: and an oath of fealty was required by
' the feodal law to be taken by all tenants to their land¬
lord, which is couched in almost the same terms as our
ancient oath of allegiance j except that, in the usual oath
of fealty, there was frequently a saving or exception of
the faith due to a superior lord by name, under whom
the landlord himself was perhaps only a tenant or vas¬
sal. But when the acknowledgment was made to the
absolute superior himself, who was vassal to no man, it
was no longer called the oath of fealty, but the oath of
allegiance ; and therein the tenant swore to bear faith
to his sovereign lord, in opposition to all men, without
any saving or exception. Land held by this exalted
species of fealty, was called feudum ligium, a liege fee ;
the vassals homines Ugii^or liege men; and thesovereign,
their dominus hgiuSj or liege lord. And when sovereign
princes did homage to each other for lands held under
their respective sovereignties, a distinction was always
ktkit.
tmmtnt-
made between simple homage, which was only an ac¬
knowledgment of tenure j and liege homage, which in¬
cluded the fealty before mentioned, and the services
consequent upon it. In Britain, it becoming a settled
principle of tenure, that all lands in the kingdom are
holden of the king as their sovereign and lord para¬
mount, no oath but that of fealty could ever be taken
to inferior lords; and the oath of allegiance was ne¬
cessarily confined to the person of the king alone. By
an easy analogy, the term of allegiance was soon brought
to signify all other engagements which are due from
subjects to their prince, as well as those duties which
were simply and merely territorial. And the oath of
allegiance, as administered in England for upwards of
600 years, contained a promise to be true and faith-
“ ful to the king and his heirs, and truth and faith to
“ bear of life and limb and terrene honour, and not to
“ know or hear of any ill or damage intended him,
“ without defending him therefrom.” But, at the Be-
volution, the terms of this oath being thought perhaps
to savour too much of the notion of non-resistance, the
present form was introduced by the convention parlia¬
ment, which is more general and indeterminate than
the former $ the subject only promising “ that he will
“ be faithful and bear true allegiance to the king,”
without mentioning “ his heirs,” or specifying in the
least wherein that allegiance consists. The oath of su¬
premacy is principally calculated as a renunciation of
the. pope’s pretended authority : and the oath of abju¬
ration, introduced in the reign of King William, very
amply supplies the loose and general texture of the
oath of allegiance j it recognising the right of his ma¬
jesty, derived under the act of settlement engaging to
support him to the utmost of the juror’s power j promis¬
ing to disclose all traiterous conspiracies against him ;
and expressly renouncing any claim on the descendants
of the late pretender, in as clear and explicit terms
as the English language can furnish. This oath must
be taken by all persons in any office, trust, or employ¬
ment j and may be tendered by two justices of the
peace to any person whom they shall suspect of disaffec¬
tion. And the oath of allegiance may be tendered to
all persons above the age of twelve years, whether na¬
tives, denizens, or aliens.
But, besides these express engagements, the law also
bolds that there is an implied^ originalt and virtual al-
Vol. I. Part II. f
] ALL
legiance, owing from every subject to his sovereign, an-Alleemnce,
tecedently to any express promise, and although the—v  
subject never swore any faith or allegiance in form.
Thus Sir Edward Coke very justly observes, that “ all
subjects are equally bounden to their allegiance as if
they had taken the oath $ because it is written by the
finger of the law in their hearts, and the taking of the
corporal oath is but an outward declaration of the
same.”
Allegiance, both express and implied, is however di¬
stinguished by the law into two sorts or species, the
one natural, the other local; the former being also per¬
petual, the latter temporary.
Natural allegiance is such as is due from all men
born within the king’s dominions immediately upon
their birth. For, immediately upon their birth thev
are under the king’s protection ; at a time too, when
(during their infancy) they are incapable of protecting
themselves. Natural allegiance is, therefore, a debt of
giatitude j which cannot be forfeited, cancelled, or al-
tered, by any change of time, place, or circumstance,
nor by any thing but the united concurrence of the le¬
gislature. A Briton who removes to France, or to
China, owes the same allegiance to the king of Britain
there as at home, and 20 years hence as well as now.
For it is a principle of universal law, That the natural-
born subject of one prince cannot by any act of his
own, no, not by swearing allegiance to another, put
oft or discharge his natural allegiance to the former :
for this natural allegiance was intrinsic and primitive,
and antecedent to the other j and cannot be divested
without the concurrent act of that prince to whom it
was first due.
Local allegiance is such as is due from an alien, or
stranger born, for so long a time as he continues within
the king s dominion and protection j and it ceases the
instant such stranger transfers himself from this king- ‘
dom to another. Natural allegiance is therefore perpe¬
tual, and local temporary only j and that for this rea¬
son, evidently founded upon the nature of government,
That allegiance is a debt due from the subject, upon an
implied contract with the prince j that so long as the
one affords protection, so long the other will demean
himself faithfully.
The oath of allegiance, or rather the allegiance it*
self, is held to be applicable, not only to the political
capacity of the king, or regal office, but to his natural
peison and.blood royal: and for the misapplication of
their allegiance, viz. to the regal capacity or crown,
exclusive of the person of the king, were the Spencers
banished in the reign of Edward II. And from hence
arose that principle of personal attachment and affec¬
tionate loyalty, which induced our forefathers (and, if
occasion required, would doubtless induce their sons)
to hazard all that was dear to them, life, fortune, and
family, in defence and support of their liege lord and
sovereign.
It is to be observed, however, in explanation of thispfl^,
allegiance, That it does not preclude resistance to the Moral and,
king, when his misconduct or weakness is such as to Political
make resistance beneficial to the community. It seems
fairly presumable, that the convention parliament,
which introduced the oath of allegiance in its present
form, did not intend to exclude all resistance : since the
4 T very
ALL [ 698 ] ALL
AUe-Hmee.very authority by which the members sat together, was
Allegory, itself the effect of a successful opposition to an acknow-
 v ' ledged sovereign.
Again : The allegiance above described can only be
understood to signify obedience to lawful commands.
If therefore, the king should issue a proclamation, le¬
vying money or imposing any service or restraint upon
the subject, beyond what the law authorized, there
would exist no sort of obligation to obey such a procla¬
mation, in consequence of having taken the oath of al¬
legiance.
Neither can allegiance be supposed to extend to the
king after he is actually and absolutely deposed, driven
into exile, or otherwise rendered incapable of exercising
the regal office. The promise of allegiance implies,
that the person to whom the promise is made continues
king 5 that is, continues to exercise the power, and
afford the protection, which belong to the office of
king ; for it is the possession of these which makes such
a particular person the object of the oath.
ALLEGORY, in Composition^ consists in choosing
a secondary subject, having all its properties and cir¬
cumstances resembling those of the principal subject,
and describing the former in such a manner as to re¬
present the latter. The principal subject is thus kept
out of view, and we are left to discover it by reflection.
In other words, an allegory is, in every respect, simi¬
lar to a hieroglyphical painting, excepting only that
words are used instead of colours. Their effects are
precisely the same : A hieroglyphic raises two images
in the mind j one seen, that represents one that is not
seen : An allegory does the same ; the representative
subject is described, and the resemblance leads us to ap¬
ply the description to the subject represented.
There cannot be a finer or more correct allegory
than the following, in which a vineyard is made to re¬
present God’s own people the Jews:
“ Thou hast brought a vine out of Egypt 5 thou
hast cast out the heathen, and planted it. Thou didst
cause it to take deep root, and it filled the land. The
hills were covered with its shadow, and the boughs
thereof were like the goodly cedars. Why hast thou
then broken down her hedges, so that all that pass do
pluck her ? The boar out of the wood doth waste it,
and the wild beast doth devour it. Return, we be¬
seech thee, O God of hosts : look down from heaven,
and behold, and visit this vine and the vineyard thy
right hand hath planted, and the branch thou madest
strong for thyself,” Psal. Ixxx.
Nothing gives greater pleasure than an allegory,
when the representative subject bears a strong analogy,
in all its circumstances, to that which is represented.
But most writers are unlucky in their choice, the ana-
itigy being generally so faint and obscure, as rather to
puzzle than to please. Allegories, as well as meta¬
phors and similies, are unnatural in expressing any se¬
vere passion which totally occupies the mind. For this
reason, the following speech of Macbeth is justly con¬
demned by the learned author of the Elements of Cri¬
ticism :
Methought I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more!
Macbeth doth murder Sleep *, the innocent sleep;
Sleep that knits up the ravell’d sleeve of Care,
The birth of each day’s life, sore Labour’s bath,
3
Balm of hurt minds, great Nature’s second course, Allegory,
Chief nourisher in life’s feast. Act ii. sc. 3. Allegri.
But see this subject more fully treated under the article
Metaphor and Allegory.
ALLEGRI, Antonio, called Corregio from the
place of his birth, an eminent historical painter, was
born in the year 1494. Being descended of poor pa¬
rents, and educated in an obscure village, he enjoyed
none of those advantages which contributed to form
the other great painters of that illustrious age. He
saw none of the statues of ancient Greece or Rome j
nor any of the works of the established schools of
Rome and Venice. But Nature was his guide ; and
Corregio was one of her favourite pupils. To express
the facility with which he painted, he used to say that
he always had his thoughts ready at the end of his
pencil.
The agreeable smile, and the profusion of graces,
which he gave to his madonas, saints, and children,
have been taxed with being sometimes unnatural j but
still they are amiable and seducing : An easy and flow¬
ing pencil, an union and harmony of colours, and a
perfect intelligence of light and shade, give an astonish¬
ing relief to all his pictures, and have been the admi¬
ration both of his cotemporaries and his successors.
Annibal Caracci, who flourished 50 years after him,
studied and adopted his manner in preference to that
of any other master. In a letter to his cousin Louis,
he expressed with great warmth the impression which
was made on him by the first sight of Corregio’s paint¬
ings : “ Every thing which I see here (says he) asto¬
nishes me *, particularly the colouring and the beauty
of the children. They live—they breathe—They
smile with so much grace and so much reality, that it
is impossible to refrain from smiling and partaking of
their enjoyment. My heart is ready to break with
grief when I think on the unhappy fate of poor Cor¬
regio—that so w’onderfbl a man (if he ought not ra¬
ther to be called an angel) should finish his days so mi¬
serably, in a country where his talents were never
known 1”
From want of curiosity or of resolution, or from
want of patronage, Corregio never visited Rome, but
remained his whole life at Parma, where the art of
painting was little esteemed, and of consequence poorly
rewarded. This occurrence of unfavourable circum¬
stances occasioned at last his premature death at the
age of 40. He was employed to paint the cupola of
the cathedral at Parma, the subject of which is an as¬
sumption of the Virgin : and having executed it in a
manner that has long been the admiration of every per¬
son of good taste, for the grandeur of design, and espe¬
cially for the boldness of the fore-shortenings (an art
which he first and at once brought to the utmost per¬
fection), he went to receive his payment. The canons
of the church, either through ignorance or baseness,
found fault with his work j and although the price
originally agreed upon had been very moderate, they
alleged that it wras far above the merit of the artist,
and forced him to accept of the paltry sum of 200
livres j which, to add to the indignity, they paid him
in copper money. To carry home this unworthy load
to his indigent wife and children, poor Corregio had
to travel six or eight miles from Parma. The weight.
til
ALL [ 699 ]
Allegri, of his burden, the heat of the weather, and his chagrin same picture,
vf at this villanous treatment, immediately threw him into
a pleurisy, which in three days put an end to his life
and his misfortunes.
For the preservation of this magnificent work the
world is indebted to Titian. As he passed through
Parma, in the suite of Charles V. he run instantly to
see the cAef d’ccuvre of Corregio. While he was at¬
tentively viewing it, one of the principal canons of the
church told him that such a grotesque performance did
not merit his notice, and that they intended soon to have
the whole defaced. “ Have a care of what you do,
(replied the other) : If I were not Titian, I would cer¬
tainly wish to he Corregio.”
Corregio’s exclamation upon viewing a picture by
Raphael is well known. Having long been accustom¬
ed to hear the most unbounded applause bestowed on
the works of that divine painter, he by degrees be¬
came less desirous than afraid of seeing anv of them.
One, however, he at last had occasion to see. He
examined it attentively for some minutes in profound
silence; and then with an air of satisfaction exclaim¬
ed, I am still a painter. Julio Romano, on seeing
some of Corregio’s pictures at Parma, declared they
were superior to any thing in painting he had yet be-
beld. One of these no doubt would be the famous
Virgin and Child, with Mary Magdalen and St Je¬
rome : but whether our readers are to depend upon his
opinion, or upon that of Lady Millar, who in her
letters from Italy gives a very unfavourable account
of it, we shall not presume to determine. This lady,
however, speaks in a very different style of the no less
famous Notte or Night ol Corregio, of which she saw
only a copy in the duke’s palace at Modena, the ori¬
ginal having been sold for a great sum of money to
the king of Poland. “ It surprises me very much
(says she), to see how different the characters are in
this picture from that which I already have described
to you. The subject is a Nativity ; and the extraor¬
dinary beauty of this picture proceeds from the clair
obscure: there are two different lights introduced, by
means of which the personages are visible j namely, the
light proceeding from the body of the child, and the
moon light. These two are preserved distinct, and pro¬
duce a most wonderful effect. The child’s body is so
luminous, that the superficies is nearly transparent, and
the rays of light emitted by it are verified in the effect
they produce upon the surrounding objects. They are
Jiot rays distinct and separate, like those round the
face of a sun that indicates an insurance office ; nor
linear, like those proceeding from the man in the al¬
manack ; but of dazzling brightness *, by their light
you see clearly the face, neck, and hands, of the Vir¬
gin (the rest of the person being in strong shadow),
the faces of the pastori who crowd round the child, and
particularly one woman, who bolds her hand before
her face, lest her eyes should be so dazzled as to pre¬
vent her from beholding the infant. This is a beautiful
natural action, and is most ingeniously introduced.
The straw on which the child is laid appears gilt, from
the light of his body shining on it. The moon lights
«p the back ground of the picture, which represents
a landscape. Every object is distinct, as in a bright
moonlight night j and there cannot be two lights in
nature more different than those which appear in the
ALL
The virgin and the child are of the most
perfect beauty. There is a great variety of character
m the different persons present, yet that uniformity 1
common to all herdsmen and peasants. In short, this
copy is so admirable, that I was quite sorry to be ob¬
liged to lose sight of it so soon j but I never shall for¬
get it.. The duke of Modena, for whom Corregio did
the original picture, gave him only 600 livres of France
for it j. a great sum in those days : but at present, what
ought it to cost ?” This great painter’s death happened
in
Allegri, Gregorio, an ecclesiastic by profession,
and a celebrated composer of music of the seventeenth
century, was a native of Rome. He was the disciple
of Nanini, the intimate friend and contemporary
of I alestrina. His abilities as a singer were not re¬
markable, but he was deemed an excellent master of
harmony $ and so much respected by all the musical
professors of his time, that the pope, in the year 1629,
appointed him to be one of the singers of his chapel.
To his uncommon merit as a composer of church mu¬
sic, he united an excellent moral character, exhibiting
in his actions the devotion and benevolence of his
heart. The poor crowded daily to his door, whom he
relieved to the utmost of his ability $ and not content
with these beneficent actions, he daily visited the
prisons of Rome, in order to relieve the most deserving
and afflicted objects which were immured in these
dreary mansions. With such divine simplicity and pu¬
rity of harmony, did he compose many parts of the
church service, that his loss was severely felt and sin¬
cerely lamented by the whole college of singers in the
papal service. He died Feb. 18. i6jo, and was in¬
terred in the ChiesaNuova, in a vault destined for the
reception of deceased singers in the pope’s chapel, be¬
fore the chapel of S. Filippo Neri, near the altar of
annunciation.
Among his other musical works preserved in the
pontifical chapel, is the celebrated miserere, which, for
170 years, has been annually performed at that chapel
on Wednesday and Good Friday, in Passion week, by
the choral band, and the best singers in Italy. It is,
however, generally believed, that it owes its reputation
more to the manner in which it is performed, than to
the composition itself. The beauty and effect of the
music is not discernible upon paper, but the singers
have, by tradition, certain customs, expressions, and
graces of convention, which produce wonderful effects.
Some of the effects produced may be justly attributed
to the time, the place, and the solemnity of the cere¬
monials observed during the performance. “ The pope
and conclave are all prostrated on the ground, the
candles of the chapel and the torches of the ballustrade
are extinguished one by one, and the last verse of this
psalm is terminated by two cboirs ; the maestro dica-
pello beating time slower and slower, and the singers di¬
minishing, or rather extinguishing the harmonyby little
and little, to a perfect point.” Padre Martini says,
that there was never more than three copies made by
authority, “ one of which was for the emperor Leopold,
one for the late king of Portugal, and the other for
himself: but a very complete one was presented by the
pope himself to King George III. as an inestimable cu¬
riosity.” (Gen. Biog.)
ALLEGRO, in Music, an Italian word, denoting
4 T 2 that
Allegri,
Allegro-.
AMegro,
A Hein.
A L L [ 7
that the part is to be played in a sprightly, brisk, live¬
ly and gay manner.
J Pin Allegro, signifies that the part it is joined to
should be sung or played quicker ; as
Pocu pin Allegro intimates, that the part to which
it refers ought to be played or sung only a little more
briskly than allegro alone requires.
ALLEIN, Joseph, the son of Tobias Allein, was
born in the Devizes, in Wiltshire, in 1633, and edu¬
cated at Oxford. In 1655, he became assistant to Mr
Newton, in Taunton Magdalen, in Somersetshire; but
was deprived for nonconformity. He died in 1668,
aged 35. He was a man of great learning, and great¬
er charity j preserving, though a nonconformist, and a
severe sufferer on that account, great respect for the
church, and loyalty to his sovereign. He wrote seve¬
ral books of piety, which are highly esteemed ; but his
Alarm to unconverted sinners is more famous than the
rest. There have been many editions of this little
pious work, the sale of which has been very great ; of
the edition 1672, there were 20,000 sold j of that of
1675, with this tit\e, A sure guide to heaven, 50,000.
There was also a large impression of it with its first
title, in 1720.
Allein, Pichard, an English nonconformist divine,
a native of Ditchet, in Somersetshire, was born in
the year 1611. His father was rector of Ditchet, and
conducted the education of his son, until he was pre¬
pared for the university. There he soon obtained the
degree of master of arts, and after he entered into
holy orders, first as an assistant to his father, and af¬
terwards as rector of Batcomb, in Somersetshire, he
discharged the duties of a clergyman with great in¬
dustry and singular fidelity. From his education, he
conceived an early predilection for the sentiments of
the Puritans, and consequently, in the contest between
Charles I. and the parliament, he firmly adhered to
the latter. Having adopted these sentiments, he some¬
times received a little disturbance from the king’s
forces, but he never carried his opposition to any un¬
due length. He, along with several others, signed a
paper, entitled “ The testimony of the Ministers of
Somersetshire to the truth of Christ,” in which their
declared principles and becoming candour were amply
displayed. Along with his father, he was employed by
the commissioners appointed by parliament for ejecting
scandalous ministers ; a commission which was executed
with rigour, and originated in intolerance.
Upon the Restoration he manifested a disposition to
loyalty, but unable with a good conscience to unite in
the act of conformity, he resigned his living after en¬
joying it for 20 years, and ranked with the merito¬
rious band of sufferers, to the number of 2000, com¬
monly denominated the ejected ministers. In the house
of Mr More, who had been a member of the parlia¬
ment, he exercised the duties of his ministerial office
under the penalty of that act, and was consequently
reprimanded by the magistrates and imprisoned j but
his piety and exemplary conduct procured him a mi¬
tigation of punishment. But no dangers could deter
him from duty j for although constrained to remove
from that place in consequence of the “ five-mile act ”
he continued in the discharge of his ministerial office
at Frome-Selwood. Here he remained until he ter¬
minated his labours by death, in 1681.
00 ] ALL
Piety, boldness, activity, and candour, shone in Alicia
the character of Richard Allein. He was admired as |]
a pathetic and practical preacher, and justly respect- Allemand.
ed for the diligence with which he discharged the pub-
lie and private duties of his profession. Mr Jenkins,
the vicar of the parish where he resided, preached his
funeral sermon, and bore an honourable testimony to
his activity, moderation, and piety. Richard Allein,
similar to his nonconformist brethren, chiefly confined
his studies and publications to subjects of religion. His
works are strongly marked with the peculiar features
of the religious character then prevalent among the
nonconformists. They have been frequently reprinted,
and very much perused. His most celebrated work is
“ Vindicice Pietatis, or a Vindication of Godliness in
its greatest Strictness and Spirituality, with directions
for a godly life j” this book was published in 1665,
without a printer’s name 5 and being unlicensed, the
copies of it were seized and sent to the king’s kitchen
for waste paper. The other productions of his pen
are, “ Heaven opened, or a brief and plain discovery
of the riches of God’s Covenant of Grace j” printed in
1665. “ The World Conquered j published in 8vo,
in 1668. “ Godly Fear,” printed in 8vo, in 16741.
“ A Rebuke to Backsliders, and a Spur for Loiterers j”
printed in 8vo in 1677. ** A Companion for Prayer j”
in i2mo, 1680. “ A brief character of Mr Joseph
Allein j” and “ Instructions about heart-work, what
is to be done on God’s part and ours for the cure and
keeping of the heart j” a posthumous piece published
in 8vo, by Dr Annesley in the year 1681. (Gen.
Biog.)
ALLELUIAH, or Halleluiah, a word signi¬
fying, Praise the Lord, to be met with either at ths
beginning or end of some psalms : such as psalm cxlv.
and those that follow to the end. Alleluiah was sung
upon solemn days of rejoicing, Tobit xiii. 12. St John
in the Revelation (xix. 1, 3, 4, 6.) says, that he “ heard
a great voice of much people in heaven, who said, Al¬
leluiah j and the four and twenty elders, and the four
beasts, fell down and worshipped God that sat on
the throne, saying, Alleluiak.'” This hymn of joy
and praises was transferred from the synagogue to the
church. St Jerome tells us, that at the funeral of
Fabiola several psalms were sung with loud alleluiahs
and that the monks of Palestine were awakened at
their midnight watchings, with the singing of allelui¬
ahs. So much energy has been observed in this term,
that the ancient church thought proper to preserve it,
without translating it either into Greek or Latin, for
fear of impairing the genius and softness of it. The
fourth council of Toledo has prohibited the use of it in
time of Lent, or other days of fasting, and in the ce¬
remonies of mourning : and, according to the present
practice of the Romish church, this word is never re¬
peated in Lent, nor in the obsequies of the dead j not¬
withstanding which, it is used in the mass for the dead,
according to the Mosarabic ritual, at the introit, when
they sing, T’u es portio mea, Domine, Alleluiah, in terr
ra viventium, Alleluiah, Alleluiah. The singing alleluiah
was oftentimes an invitatory or call to each other t»
praise the Lord.
ALLEMAENGEL, a small Moravian settlement
on Swetara river, in Pennsylvania.
ALLEMAND, a sort of grave solemn music, with <
good
ALL
Allenmttd gom! measure, and a slow movement.  
kind of dance, very common in Germany and Switzer
Al!«»
Allen. Iand.
Allemand, a river which falls into the Mississippi
from the south-east, about 43 miles south of the
Natches.
ALLEMANNIC, in a general sense, denotes any
thing belonging to the ancient Germans. Thus, we
meet with Allemannic history, Allemannic language,
Allemannic law, &c.
ALLEN, John, archbishop of Dublin in the reign
of King Henry \ III. was educated in the university
of Oxford; from whence removing to Cambridge, he
there took the degree of bachelor of laws. He was
sent by Dr Warham, archbishop of Canterbury, to
the pope, about certain matters relating to the church.
He continued at Rome nine years j and was created
doctor of laws, either there or in some other univer¬
sity of Italy. After his return, he was appointed
chaplain to Cardinal Wolsey, and was commissary or
judge of his court as legate a latere: in the execution
of which office he was suspected of great dishonesty,
and even perjury. He assisted the cardinal in visiting,
and afterwards suppressing, 40 of the smaller monaste
ries, for the erection of his college at Oxford and that
at Ipswich. The cardinal procured for him the living
of Dalby in Leicestershire, though it belonged to the
master and brethren of the hospital of Burton-Lazars.
About the latter end of the year 1525 he was incor¬
porated doctor of laws in the university of Oxford.
On the 13th of March ijpS he was consecrated arch¬
bishop of Dublin, in the room of Dr Hugh Inge de¬
ceased j and about the same time was made chancellor
of Ireland. He wrote, 1. Epistola de Pallii signijica-
tione activa et passiva; penned by him at the time
when he received the archiepiscopal pall. 2. De con
suetudimbus ac statutis in tuitoriis cuusis obset'vandis.
He wrote also several other pieces relating to the church.
His death, which happened in July 1534, was very tra¬
gical j for being taken in a time of rebellion by Thomas
1 itzgerald, eldest son to the earl of Kildare, he was by
his command most cruelly murdered, being brained liks
an ox, at Tartaine in Ireland, in the 58th year of his
age. The place where the murder was committed was
afterwards hedged in, overgrown, and unfrequented, in
detestation of the fact.
Allen, Thomas, a famous mathematician of the 16th
century, born at Utoxeter in Staffordshire the 21st of
December 154^* H-e was admitted scholar of Trinity
college, Oxford, the 4th of June 15615 and in 1567
took his degree of master of arts. In 1580 he quitted
his college and fellowship, and retired to Gloucester-
hall 5 where he studied very closely, and became fa¬
mous for his knowledge in antiquity, philosophy, and
mathematics. Having received an invitation from Hen¬
ry earl of Northumberland, a great friend and patron
of the mathematicians, he spent some time at the earl’s
house, where he became acquainted with those celebra¬
ted mathematicians Thomas Harriot, John Dee, Wal¬
ter Warner, and Nathaniel Torporley. Robert earl of
Leicester had a particular esteem for Mr Allen, and
would have conferred a bishopric upon him, but his
love of solitude and retirement made him decline the
offer. His great skill in the mathematics made the ig¬
norant and vulgar look upon him as a magician or con-
L 701 ] ALL
It i« also a brisk juror: the author of a book entitled Leicester's Common-
wealth, has accordingly accused him of using the art
of figuring, to procure the earl of Leicester’s unlawful Allestry.
designs, and endeavouring by the black art to bring' ' *
about a match betwixt him and Queen Elizabeth. But
without pretending to point out the absurdity of the
charge, it is certain that the earl placed such confi¬
dence in Allen, that nothing material in the state was
transacted without his knowledge 5 and the earl had
constant information, by letter from Mr Allen, of what
passed in the university. Mr Allen was very curious
and indefatigable in collecting scattered manuscripts re¬
lating to history, antiquity, astronomy, philosophy, and
mathematics : these collections have been quoted by se¬
veral learned authors, &c. and mentioned' to have been
in the Bibliotheca Alleniana. He published in Latin
the second and third books of Claudius Ptolemy of Pe-
lusium, Concerning the Judgment of the Stars, or, as it
is commonly called, of the Quadripartite Construction,
with an exposition. He wrote also notes on many of
Lilly’s books, and some on John Bale’s wodinDe Scrip-
toribus M. Britannia. Having lived to a great age, he
died at Gloucester-hall on the 3^fh September 1632.
ALLENDORF, a small town in the circle of the
Upper Rhine, and in the landgravate of Hesse Cassel,
remarkable for its salt works, and three stone bridges.
It is seated on the river Weser, 15 miles east of Caslek
E. Long. 10. 5. N. Lat. 51. 26.
ALLLNS 10\V N, a town in New Jersey, in IVIon-
mouth county, 15 miles north-east from Burlington,
and 13 south-by-east from Princeton.
Allenstovvn, a township in Rockingham county.
New Hampshire, containing 254 inhabitants: situated
on the east side of Merrimack river, 25 miles north¬
west of Exeter, and 40 from Portsmouth.
ALLEN 1 OWN, in Pennsylvania, Northampton
county, on the point of land formed by Jordan’s creek
and the Little Leheigh. It contains about 90 houses*
and an academy.
ALLER, a river which runs through the duchv of
Lunenburg, and falls into the Weser a little below
Verden.
ALLER-g-ooc/, in our ancient writers. The word
serves to make the expression of superlative signi¬
fication. So, aller-goocl is the greatest good. Some¬
times it is written alder.
ALLERION, or Alerion, in Heraldry, a sort of
eagle without beak or feet, having nothing perfect but
the wings. They differ from martlets by having their
wings expanded, whereas those of the martlets are close 5
and denote imperialists vanquished and disarmed: for
which reason they are more common in French than in
German coats of arms.
ALLESTRY, Richard, D. D. was born at Up-
pington in Shropshire, in 1619, was educated in the
grammar school of Coventry, and afterwards at Christ¬
church in Oxford. His natural talents, which were
uncommonly vigorous, he carefully improved by an
unwearied application to study^ Accordingly, his pro¬
motion was rapid. First he obtained the degree of ba¬
chelor of arts 5 next be was chosen moderator in philo¬
sophy 5 then made a canon of Christ-churcb, created
doctor of divinity, appointed chaplain in ordinary to
the king, and afterwards regius professor of divinity.
But in the early part of life his studies were inter-?
rupted*
Allestry.
ALL [ 702 ] ALL
l*upted, and he was called to military service by hostile
’ occurrences of the times. In the year 1641, he, along
with many other students of Oxford, entered the royal
service, and gave eminent proofs of their courage and
loyal attachment. A short interval of hostilities per¬
mitted them to return to their literary pursuits •, but a
republican party soon after disturbed their repose, and
entering Oxford, attempted to plunder the colleges.
Having entered the treasury, and finding nothing but
fourpence and a halter, they hastened to the deanery,
and seizing many valuable articles, they locked them
in an apartment, intending next day to carry them a-
long with them. During the night, however, Alles¬
try having a key to that apartment, found means to
remove the whole of the articles. Informed that he
was the cause of their disappointment, they seized him j
and had they not been unexpectedly called off by an
order of the earl of Essex, they would have severely
wrecked their indignation upon him. In October fol¬
lowing he again took up arms, was present at the bat¬
tle of Keinton-field, and on his way to Oxford to pre¬
pare for the reception of the king he was taken pri¬
soner, but soon afterwards released by the king’s forces.
A violent disease which then prevailed in the garri¬
son of Oxford, brought Allestry to the brink of the
grave j but recovering, he again joined a regiment
of volunteers, chiefly consisting of Oxford students.
Here he served as a common soldier, and was often
seen with the musket in one hand and the book in the
Other. When the republican party prevailed, he re¬
turned at the termination of the war to his favourite
studies, but still continued true to that side of politics
which he had adopted. This conduct occasioned
fcis expulsion from the college $ but he was provided
with a comfortable retreat in the families of the ho¬
nourable Francis Newport, and Sir Anthony Cope.
Such was the confidence reposed in him, that, when
the friends of Charles II. were secretly preparing the
way for his restoration, they entrusted him with person¬
al messages to the king. In returning from one of these
interviews, he was seized at Dover, and upon exami¬
nation committed a prisoner to Lambeth-house. The
earl of Shaftesbury obtained his release in a few weeks.
Returning to visit his friends, and among others the
learned Dr Hammond, he met his corpse at the gate
of his house, carrying to the grave. This deeply af¬
flicted his mind, and added much to his present distres¬
ses. The doctor left him his valuable library, assign¬
ing as a reason that “ he well knew that his books in
his hands would be useful weapons, for the defence of
that cause he had so vigorously supported.” This va¬
luable library, along with his own, Allestry bequeath¬
ed at his death to the university.
During his life he erected at his own private ex¬
pence the west side ot the outward court of Eton college,
the grammar school in Christ-church college, and
settled several liberal pensions upon individual persons
and families. His original biographer gives him the
following character. “ Memory, fancy, judgment,
elocution, great niodesty, and no less assurance, a com¬
prehension of things, and a fluency of words ; an apt¬
ness for the pleasant, and sufficiency for the rugged parts
of knowledge ; a courage to encounter and an industry
to master all things, make up the character of bis hap¬
py genius. There was not in the world a man of
clearer honesty and courage; no temptation could
bribe him to do a base thing, or terror affright him
from the doing a good one. This made his friendship
as lasting and inviolable as his life, without the mean
considerations of profit, or sly reserves of craft; without
the pageantry of ceremonious address, the cold civility
of some, and the servile falseness and obsequious flattery
of others.” He left a volume of sermons printed at
Oxford in 1684, from the perusal of which posterity
may judge of his literary abilities. Although his lec¬
tures gave universal satisfaction, yet he prohibited their
publication.
Allestry, Jacob, an English poet of the last cen¬
tury. He was the son of James Allestry, a bookseller
of London, who was ruined by the great fire in 1666.
Jacob was educated at Westminster school, entered at
Christ church, Oxford, in the act-term 1671, at the
age of 18, and was elected student in 1672. He took
the degree of arts; was music reader in 1679, and
terrse filius in 1681 ; both which offices he executed
with great applause, being esteemed a good philologist
and poet. He had a chief hand in the verses antf^
pastorals spoken at the theatre at Oxford, May 21.
1681, by Mr William Saville,-second son of the mar¬
quis of Halifax, and George Cholmomlely, second
son of Robert Viscount Kells (both of Christ-church),
before James duke of York, his duchess, and the ladv
Anne ; which verses and pastorals, were afterwards
printed in the “ Examen Poeticum.” He died Oc¬
tober 15. 1686, and was buried in St Thomas’s church¬
yard.
ALLEVEURE, a small brass Swedish coin, worth
about -Jd. English money,
ALLEVIATION, denotes the making a thing
lighter, and easier to bear or endure. It stands oppo¬
site to aggravation.
ALLEY, William, bishop of Exeter in the reign
of Queen Elizabeth, was born at Great Wycomb in
Buckinghamshire. From Eton school, in the year
1528, he removed to King’s college. Cambridge, where
he took the degree of bachelor of arts. He also stu¬
died some time at Oxford ; afterwards he married, was
presented to a living, and became a zealous reformer.
Upon Queen Mary’s accession he left his cure and re¬
tired into the north of England ; where he maintained
his wife and himself by teaching a school, and practis¬
ing physic. Queen Elizabeth ascending the throne,
he went to London, where he acquired great reputa¬
tion by reading the divinity lecture at St Paul’s, and
in July 1560 was consecrated bishop of Exeter. He
was created doctor of divinity at Oxford in November
1561. He died on the 15th of April 1570, and was
buried at Exeter in the cathedral. He wrote, 1. The
Poor Man’s Library, 2 vols. fol. Lend. 1571. These
volumes contain twelve lectures on the first epistle of
St Peter, read at St Paul’s. 2. A Hebrew Grammar.
Whether it was ever published is uncertain. He trans¬
lated the Pentateuch, in the version of the Bible which
was undertaken by Queen Elizabeth’s command.
Alley, in Gardening, a straight parallel walk,
hounded on both sides with trees, shrubs, &c. and
usually covered with gravel or turf.
Alley, among builders, denotes a narrow passage
leading from one place to another.
Alley, in Perspective, that which, in order to have
a
ALL [7
Alley, a greater appearance of length, Is made wider at the
Alleyn, entrance than at the termination.
v Alley, in the new husbandry, implies the vacant
space between the outermost row of corn on one bed
and the nearest row to it on the next parallel bed ; and
it is usually about four feet in breadth, exclusive of
the partitions between the rows of corn in the beds.
Ihe first hoeing of wheat is performed in the begin¬
ning of winter, and the earth is ploughed away from
the rows into the intervals, which forms small ridges
m the middle between the double rows. The second
hoeing is in the spring, which turns it back to the
rows, leaving a furrow in the middle of the alley. The
third hoeing is from the rows, after the wheat has
blossomed : this turns the earth into the intervals, form¬
ing small ridges there, as at the first hoeing. The
fourth hoeing returns the earth to the ridges, which
is performed a month or more after the third hoeing.
This commonly finishes the horse hoeings, if the land
is in good heart 5 otherwise one or two more hoeings
are necessary.
ALLE\ N, Edward, a celebrated English actor
in the reigns of Queen Elizabeth and King James, and
founder of the college of Dulwich in Surry, was horn
at London in the parish of St Botolph, Sept. 1. 1566,
as appears from a memorandum of his own writing.
Dr Fuller says, that he was bred a stage-player 5 and
that his father would have given him a liberal educa¬
tion, but that he was not turned for a serious course of
life. He was, however, a youth of an excellent capa¬
city, a cheerful temper, a tenacious memory, a sweet
elocution, and in his person of a stately port and aspect:
all which advantages might well induce a young man
to take to the theatrical profession. By several autho¬
rities we find he must have been on the stage some time
before 1592? f°r at this time he was in high favour
with the town, and greatly applauded by the best judges,
particularly by Ben Johnson.
Haywood, iu his prologue to Marlow’s Jew of Mal¬
ta, calls him Proteus for shapes, and Roscius for a
tongue. Pie usually played the capital parts, and was
one of the original actors in Shakespeare’s plays j in
some of Ben Johnson’s he was also a principal per¬
former : but what characters he personated in either of
these poets, it is difficult now to determine. This is
owing to the inaccuracy of their editors, who did not
print the names of the players opposite to the charac¬
ters they performed, as the modern custom is; but gave
one general list of actors to the whole set of plays, as
in the old folio edition of Shakespeare 5 or divided one
from the other, setting the dramatis personae before the
plays, and the catalogue of performers after them, as in
Johnson’s.
It may appear surprising how one of Mr Alleyn’s
profession should be enabled to erect such an edifice as
Dulwich college, and liberally endow it for the main¬
tenance of so many persons. But it must be observed
that he had some paternal fortune, which, though
small, might lay a foundation for his future affluence j
and it is to be presumed, that the profits he received
from acting, to one of his provident and managing
disposition and one who by his excellence in plaving
drew after him such crowds of spectators, must have
considerably improved his fortune : besides, he was not
anly an actor, but master of a playhouse built at his
3 ] ALL
own expence, by which he is said to have amassed con¬
siderable wealth. He was also keeper of the king’s
wild beasts, or master of the royal bear-garden, which
was frequented by vast crowds of spectators j and the
profits arising from these sports are said to have mount¬
ed to 500I. per annum. He was thrice married $ and
the portions of his two first wives, they leaving him
no issue to inherit, might probably contribute to this
benefaction. Such kind of donations have been fre¬
quently thought to proceed more from vanity and os¬
tentation than real piety j but this of Mr Alleyn has
been ascribed to a very singular cause, for the devil has
been said to be the first promoter of it. Mr Aubrey
mentions a tradition, “ that Mr Alleyn playing a de¬
mon, with six others, in one of Shakespeare’s plays,
was in the midst of the play, surprised by an appa¬
rition of the devil j which so worked on bis fancy, that
he made a vow, which he performed by building
Dulwich college. He began the foundation of this
college, under the direction ot Inigo Jones, in 1614}
and the buildings, gardens, &c. were finished in 1617,
in which he is said to have expended about lo,oool.
After the college was built, he met with some difficul¬
ty in obtaining a charter for settling his lands in mort¬
main j for he proposed to endow it with 800I. per
annum, for the maintenance of one master, one war¬
den, and four fellows, three whereof were to be
clergymen, and the fourth a skilful organist ; also six
poor men and as many women, besides twelve poor
boys to be educated till the age of fourteen or sixteen,
and then put out to some trade or calling. The ob¬
struction be met with arose from the lord chancellor
Bacon, who wished King James to settle part of those
lands for support of two academical lectures; and
he wrote a letter to the Marquis of Buckingham, dated
August 18. 1618, entreating him to use his interest
with his Majesty for that purpose. Mr Alleyn’s soli¬
citation was however at last complied with, and he
obtained the royal license, giving him full power to lay
his foundation, by his Majesty’s letters patent, bearing
date the 21st of June 1619 ; by virtue whereof he did,
in the chapel at the said new hospital at Duhvich, call¬
ed The College of GoePs Gift, on the 13th of Septem¬
ber following, publicly read and publish a quadri¬
partite writing in parchment, whereby he created and
established the said college ; he then subscribed it with
his name, and fixed his seal to several parts thereof, iu
presence of several honourable persons, and ordered
copies of the writings to four different parishes. He
was himself the first master of his college j so that to
make use of the words of Mr Haywood, one of his
contemporaries, “ He was so mingled with humility
and charity, that he became his own pensioner, hum¬
bly submitting himself to that proportion of diet and
clothes which he had bestowed on others.” We
have no reason to think he ever repented of this di¬
stribution of his substance j but, on the contrary,
that he was entirely satisfied, as appears from the
following memorial in his own writing, found amongst
his papers: May 26. 1620^—My wife and I ac¬
knowledged the fine at the common pleas bar, of all
our lands to the college: blessed be God that he has
given us life to do it.” His wife died in the year
1623 5 and about two years afterwards he married
Constance Kinchtoe, who survived him, and received
remarkable
Alleyn.
ALL [ 70+ ] ALL
remarkable proofs of his affection, if at least we may
judge of it by his will, wherein he left her consider¬
ably. He died Nov. 25. 1626, in the 6lst year of
his age, and was buried in the chapel of his new
college, where there is a tomb-stone over his grave,
with an inscription. His original diary is also there
preserved.
The subjoining anecdote is entertaining in itself, and
shows the high esteem in which Mr Alleyn was held as
an actor : “ Edward Alleyn, the Garrick of Shake¬
speare’s time, had been on the most friendly footing
with our poet, as well as Ben Johnson. They used fre¬
quently to spend their evenings together at the sign of
the Globe, somewhere near Blackfriars, where the
playhouse then was. The world need not be told, that
the convivial hours of such a triumvirate must be plea¬
sing as well as profitable, and may be said to be such
pleasures as might bear the reflections of the morning,
in consequence of one of these meetings, the follow¬
ing letter was written by G. Peele, a fellow of
Christ-church college, Oxford, and a dramatic poet,
who belonged to the Club, to one Marie, an intimate
of his;
‘ Friend Marie.
* I must desyr that my syster hyr watch, and the
cookerie book you promysed, may be sente bye the
man.—-——I never longed for thy company more than
last night: we were all very merrye at the Globe,
when Ned Alleyn did not scruple to affyrme plea-
sauntly to thy Friende Will, that he had stolen his
speech about thee Qualityes of an actor’s excellencye
in Hamlet hys Tragedye, from conversations many-
fold which had passed betweene them, and opinyons
given by Alleyn touching the subjecte. Shake¬
speare did not take this talke in good sorte 5 but
Johnson put an ende to the strife with wittylye re-
mai kinge, This ajjuire needeth no Contentione ; you
stole it from Ned, no double ; do not marvel: Have
you not seen him act tymes out of number ? Believe
me most syncerilie, yours, G. Peele:
ALLIA, a river of Italy, in the Sabine territory,
which running down a very deep channel from the
mountains of Crustuminura, mixes with the Tiber 40
miles from Rome ; famous for the great slaughter of the
Romans, by the Gauls under Brennus, when 40,000
Romans were killed or put to flight; hence Alliensh
dies, an unlucky day (Virgil, Ovid, Lucan). Our an¬
cestors, says Cicero, deemed the day of the fight of Al~
ha more fatal than that of taking the city.
ALLIANCE, in the Civil and Canon Law, the re¬
lation conti-acted between two persons or two families
by marriage.
Alliance is also used for a treaty entered into by
sovereign princes and states, for their mutual safety
and defence. In this sense, alliances maybe distin¬
guished into such as are offensive, whereby the con¬
tracting parties oblige themselves jointly to attack
some other power; and into defensive ones, whereby
they bind themselves to stand by and defend each othei
in case they are attacked by others. Alliance with
the ancient Romans, though a sort of servitude, was
much coveted. Anarathes, we are told by Polybius
oflered a sacrifice to the gods by way of thanksgiving
tor having obtained this alliance. The reason was.
that thenceforward people were sure not to receive
any injuries except from them. There were different
sorts of allies: some only united to them by a partici¬
pation of the privileges of Romans, as the Latini and
Hernici; others by their veryjbundation, as the colo¬
nies ; others by the benefactions they received from
them, as Masinissa, Eumenes, and Attains, who owed
their kingdoms to Rome; others by free treaties,
which last by a long alliance became subjects, as the
kings of Bithynia, Cappadocia, Egypt, and most of
the cities of Greece : Lastly, others by compulsive
treaties, and the law of subjection, as Philip and Anti-
ochus. For they never granted peace to an enemy,
without making an alliance with him ; that is, they
never subdued any people without using it as a means
of subduing others.
The forms or ceremonies of alliances have been va¬
rious in different ages and countries. Among us, sign¬
ing and swearing, sometimes at the altar, are the chief;
anciently eating and drinking together, chiefly offer¬
ing sacrifices together, were the customary rite of rati¬
fying an alliance. Among the Jews and Chaldeans,
heifers or calves, among the Greeks bulls or goats,
and among the Romans hogs, were sacrificed on this
occasion. Among the ancient Arabs, alliances were
confirmed by drawing blood out of the palms of the
hands of the two contracting princes with a sharp
stone, dipping therein a piece of their garments, and
therewith smearing seven stones, at the same time in¬
voking the gods Vrotalt and Alilat, i. e. according to
Herodotus, Bacchus and Uranius. Among the people
of Colchis, the confirmation of alliances was said to be
effected by one of the princes offering his wife’s breasts
to the other to suck, which he was obliged to do till
there issued blood.
Alliance, in a figurative sense, is applied to any
kind of union or connection ; thus we say, there is an
alliance between the church and state.
ALLIARA. See Erysimum, Botany Index.
ALLIER, in Geography, a river of France, which
gives name to a department, has its source near Cha¬
teau Neuf de Randon, in the department of Lozere,
and joins the Loire near Nevers.
Allier, a department of France, formerly the pro¬
vince of Bourbonnois, is bounded on the north by the
departments of Saone and Loire, Nievre and Cher;
on the east by those of Saone and Loire and the Loire,
on the south by those of the Loire, Puy de Home, and
Creuse ; and on the west by those of Creuse and Cher.
It contains 1,454,341 square acres ; the number of in¬
habitants is about 260,266 ; and it is divided into four
communal districts. The principal town is Moulins.
ALLIGATI, in Roman antiquity, the basest kind
of slaves, who were usually kept fettered. The Ro¬
mans had three degrees, or orders, of slaves or ser¬
vants ; the first employed in the management of their
estates ; the second in the menial or lower functions
of the family; the third called alligati, above men¬
tioned.
Alliance
Alligation.
ALLIGATION, the name of a method of solving
all questions that relate to the mixture of one ingredient
with another. J hough writers on arithmetic generally
make alligation a branch of that science; yet, as it
is plainly nothing more than an application of the
common properties of numbers, in order to solve a few
questions
ALL
Animation, questions that occur in particular branches of business,
'     we choose rather to keep it distinct from the science of
arithmetic.
Alligation is generally divided in medial and alter¬
nate.
■Alligation Medial, from the rates and quantities of
the simples given, discovers the rate of the mixture.
Jtule. As the total quantity of the simples,
To their price or value ;
So any quantity of the mixture,
To the rate.
Examp. A grocer mixeth 301b. of currants, at 4d.
per lb., with lolb. of other currants, at 6d. per lb.:
What is the value of lib. of the mixture ? Am. 4$d.
Ilf. d. d.
at 4 amounts to 120
[ 7°5 ]
ALL
30,
10.
at 6
60
4°
lb.
If 40
d.
180
same.
180
lb. d.
1 : 44.
Note 1. When the quantity of each simple is the
the rate of the mixture is readily found by add¬
ing the rates of the simples, and dividing their sum by
the number of simples. Thus,
Suppose a grocer mixes several sorts of sugar, and of
each an equal quantity, viz. at 50s. at 54s. and at 60s.
per cwt. the rate of the mixture will be 54s. 8d. per
cwt.; for
s. s. d.
J0+54+6o=: 164, and 3)164(54 8
Note 2. If it be required to increase or diminish the
quantity of the mixture, say, As the sum of the given
quantities of the simples, to the several quantities given $
so the quantity of the mixture proposed, to the quanti¬
ties of the simples sought.
Note 3. If it be required to know how much of
¥ach simple is an assigned portion of the mixture,
say, As the quantity of the mixture, to the several
quantities of the simples given $ so the quantity of the
assigned portion, to the quantities of the simples sought.
Thus.
Suppose a grocer mixes xolb. of raisins with 301b. of
almonds and qolb. of currants, and it be demanded how
many ounces of each sort are found in every pound, or
ia every 16 ounces of the mixture, say,
0%.
80 : 10 : : 16:2 raisins.
80 : 30 : : 16 : 6 almonds.
80 : 40 : : 16 : 8 currants.
Proof 16
Note 4. If the rates of two simples, with the total
value and total quantity of the mixture, be given, the
quantity of each simple may be found as follows : viz.
Multiply the lesser rate into the total quantity, sub¬
tract the product from the total value, and the remain¬
der will be equal to the product of the excess of the
higher rate above, the lower, multiplied into the quan¬
tity of the higher-priced simple ; and consequently the
Vol. I. Part II. f
said remainder, divided by the difference of the rates, Alligation,
will quote the said quantity. Thus, >—y—»
Suppose a grocer has a mixture of 4001b. weight,
that cost him 7I. 10s. consisting of raisins at 4d. per lb.
and almonds at 6d. how many pounds of almonds were
in the mixture ?
L. s. d.
7 10=1800
1600
i6ood.
2)200(i00lb. of almonds at 6d. is
And 3oclb. of raisins at 4d. is
Total 400
Proof 7
Alligation Alternate, being the converse of alliga¬
tion medial, from the rates of the simples, and rate of
the mixture given, finds the quantities of the simples.
Rules. I. Place the rate of the mixture on the
left side of a brace, as the root j and on the right side
of the brace set the rates of the several simples, under
one another, as the branches. II. Link or alligate the
branches, so as one greater and another less than the
root may be linked or yoked together. III. Set the
difference betwixt the root and the several branches
right against their respective yoke-fellows. These al¬
ternate differences are the quantities required. Note 1.
If any branch happen to have two or more yoke-fel¬
lows, the difference betwixt the root and these yoke¬
fellows must be placed right against the said branch,
one after another, and added into one sum. 2. In some
questions, the branches may be alligated more ways
than one: and a question will always admit of so ma¬
ny answers as there are different ways of linking the
branches.
Alligation alternate admits of three varieties, viz.
1. 1 he question may be unlimited, with respect both
to the quantity of the simples and that of the mixture.
2. The question may be limited to a certain quantity
of one or more of the simples. 3. The question may be
limited to a certain quantity of the mixture.
Variety I. When the question is unlimited, with re¬
spect both to the quantity of the simples, and that of
the mixture, this is called Alligation Simple.
Examp. A grocer would mix sugars at 5d. 7d. and
lod. per lb. so as to sell the mixture or compound at
8d. per lb.: What quantity of each must he take ?
Here the rate of the mixture 8 is placed on the left
side of the brace as the root j and on the right side of
the same brace are set the rates of the several simples,
viz. 5. 7, 10, under one another, as the branches j ac¬
cording to Rule I.
The branch 10 being greater than the root, is alli¬
gated or linked with 7 and 5, both these being less than
the root; as directed in Rule II.
. The difference between the root 8 and the branch 5,
viz. 3, is set right against this branch’s yoke-fellow 10.
The difference between 8 and 7 is likewise set right
4 U against
A L
against the yoke-fellow 10
  v  8 and 10, viz. 2, is set right against the two yoke-fel¬
lows 7 and 5 ; as prescribed by Rule III.
As the branch 10 has two differences on the right,
viz. 3 and I, they are added j and the answer to the
question is, that 2lb. at jd. 2lb. at yd. and 41b. at rod.
will make the mixture required.
The truth and reason of the rules will appear by
considering, that whatever is lost upon any one branch
is gained upon its yoke-fellow. Thus in the above
example, by selling 4'!b. of rod. sugar at 8d. per lb.
there is 8d. lost: but the like sum is gained upon its
two yoke-fellows j for by selling 2lb. of 3d. sugar at
8d. per lb. there is 6d. gained ; and by selling 2lb. of
yd. sugar at 8d. there is 2d. gained ; and 6d. and 2d.
make 8d.
Hence it follows, that the rate of the mixture must
always be mean or middle with respect to the rates of
the simples 5 that is, it must be less than the greatest,
and greater than the least j otherwise a solution would
be impossible. And the price of the total quantity
mixed, computed at the rate of the mixture, will al¬
ways be equal to the sum of the prices of the several
quantities cast up at the respective rates of the simple.
Variety II. When the question is limited to a certain
quantity of one or more of the simples, this is called
Alligation Partial.
If the quantity of one of the simples only be limited,
alligate the branches, and take their differences, as if
there had been no such limitation $ and then work by
the following proportion :
As the difference right against the rate of the simple,
whose quantity is given,
To the other differences respectively j
So the quantity given,
To the several quantities sought.
Examp. A distiller would, with 40 gallons of brandy
at 12s per gallon, mix rum at ys. per gallon, and gin at
4s per gallon : How much of tire rum and gin must he
take, to sell the mixture at 8s. per gallon ?
L [ 706 ] ALL
And the difference betwixt would mix it with water, so as to make a
of 144 gallons, worth 2s. 6d. per gallon :
wine, and how much water, must he take ?
Gal.
composition Allig,ui.«
How much H
Allitera¬
tion.
{3r
Gal.
40 of brandy. T
32 of rum. >Ans.
32 of gin. J
The operation gives for answer, 5 gallons of brandy,
4 of rum, and 4 of gin. But the question limits the
quantity of brandy to 40 gallons ; therefore say,
,r, . If 5 : 4 : : 4° = 32
the quantity of gin, by the operation, being also 4, the
proportion needs not be repeated.
Variety III. When the question is limited to a cer-
7bL/Uant,ty °f tl>e mixtU,e» this Is caiIed AMgation
After linking the branches, and taking the differences,
work by the proportion following :
As the sum of the differences,
To each particular difference;
So the given total of the mixture,
To the respective quantities required.
Examp. A vintner hath wine at 3s. per gallon, and
3°
{
36\3°
o) 6
120 of wine
24 of water.
}
A ns.
36 144 total.
120X 36=4320
24 X 0= o
Proof 144)4320(30
As 36 : 30 :: 144 : 120
As 36 : 6 :: 144 : 24.
There being- here only two simples, and the total of
the mixture limited, the question admits but of one an¬
swer.
ALLIGATOR, in Zoology, a synonyme of the la-
certa crocodilus. See Lacerta.
Alligator Pear. See Laurus, Botany Index.
ALLION FA. See Botany Index.
ALL LOTH, a star in the tail of the Greater Bear,
much used for finding the latitude at sea.
ALLITERATION, an ornament of language
chiefly used in poetry, and consisting in the repetition
of the same letter at certain intervals. We do not re¬
member to have ever seen any satisfactory account of
alliteration in the writings of the critics. They seem
to have passed it over in contemptuous silence ; either
as a false refinement or as a mere trifle. It perhaps
deserves a better fate. Many chapters have been com¬
posed on quantity, on the expression resulting from dif¬
ferent arrangements of long and short syllables, and on
the powers of pauses as they are variously placed, with¬
out a word of alliteration. This is the more extraor¬
dinary, as one should think it impossible for any man
to examine minutely, and, as it were, dissect a number
of verses, without perceiving the vast abundance of this
ornament. It is as if an anatomist should publish a
complete table of the arteries in the human body, and
affect never to have seen a vein or a nerve : for it may
be affirmed, with small danger of mistake, that if you
examine any number of verses, remarkable either for
sweetness or for energy, they will be found in some de¬
gree alliterative. We do not pretend to say, that the
sweetness and energy of versification depends chiefly on
this circumstance, yet we cannot help believing that it
may claim some share : for it is a constant appealance,
as far as we have ever observed, that the poets whose
fame is highest for versification, have been attentive to
alliteration.
The very trifling appearance of the ornament itself,
upon a superficial view, and the frequent abuse of it,
are circumstances indeed which give no encouragement
to a serious inquiry into its nature and operation. How
common is it for writers, who affect to be comic, when
in want of other means for raising a smile, to use af¬
fected alliteration with success P But, in the fine arts,
no beauty or grace is beyond the power of ridicule.
TJie noblest attitudes in painting have been rendered
laughable by caricatura. St Paul preaching at Athens,
in the design of Raphael, appears elegant, noble, and
in some degree awful. The same apostle, represented
by Hogarth in nearly the same attitude, pleading be¬
fore
ALL [
Allium- Tore the governor Felix, seems altogether ridiculous.
tjon’ So the language and versification of Milton in the Pa-
' radise Lost appear only proper for the most elevated
subjects. In the Splendid Shilling of Philips, they
appear equally proper for the lowest. So fares it also
with alliteration. Nor ought we to be mortified at the
discovery, that much of the delight afforded by versifi¬
cation arises from a cause so pitiful as the repetition of
the same letter twice, or oftener, on the accented parts
of a verse •, for there are many other causes of plea¬
sure, which, when thus detected and taken to pieces,
seem equally contemptible.
We apprehend the principal operation of this orna¬
ment to be quite mechanical. It is easier for the or¬
gans of speech to resume, at short intervals, one cer¬
tain conformation, than to throw themselves into a
number of different ones, unconnected and discordant.
For example, a succession of labials, interspersed at
regular distances with dentals and gutturals, will fie
more easily pronounced than the succession of all the
three at random. Sounds of which the articulation is
„ easiest, are most completely in the power of the speaker.
He can pronounce them slowly or rapidly, softly or with
force, at pleasure. In this we imagine the power and
advantage of alliteration are founded ; for we would
not lay any stress on the pleasure which can result to
the ear from the repetition of the same letter. It has
been compared to the frequent returns of the key-note
in a musical strain j but that analogy is extremely faint.
The ear, we presume, can be pleased with alliteration
only in so far as it contributes to the superior easiness
of recitation ; for what is recited with ease must be
heard with pleasure.
These remarks might be confirmed and illustrated
by numberless passages from the best poets. Some few
lines will suffice, taken from Gray, who seems to have
paid particular attention to this grace. He professed
to have learned his versification from Dryden, as Dry-
den did from Spenser: and these three abound in al¬
literation above all the English poets. We choose
Gray for another reason, in proof of what we mention¬
ed before, that alliteration contributes not only to the
sweetness, but also to the energy, of versification j for
he uses it chiefly when he airhs at strength and bold¬
ness. In the Sister Odes (as Dr Johnson styles them),
almost every strophe commences and concludes with an
alliterative line. The poet, we supposed, wished to be¬
gin with force, and end with dignity.
“ 7?uin seize thee, ruthless king.”
“ To Aigh-born Hoel’s /zarp, or soft Zlewe/lyn’s /ay.”
“ /if'eave the marp, and u/eave the «;oof.”
“ Stamp we our vengeance deep, and ratify his r/oom.”
“ Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind’s sway.”
“ That hush’d in grim repose, expects his ev’ning
prey.”
It must be observed here, that we hold a verse alli¬
terative which has a letter repeated on its accented
parts, although those parts do not begin words j the re¬
peated letter bearing a strong analogy to the bars in a
musical phrase. Gray seems to have had a particular
liking to these sorts of balanced verses which divide
equally, and of which the opposite sides have an allite¬
rative resemblance.
707 ] A L L
“ Eyes that glow and fangs that^rin.”
“ Thoughts that breathe, and words that Aurn.”
“ iZauberk crash, and //elmet ring.”
All these lines appear to us to have a force and
energy, arising from alliteration, which renders them
easy to be recited ; or, if the reader pleases, nioutked,
lor the same reason the following passage appears sad
and solemn, by the repetition of the labial liquid.
“ Mountains, ye wiourn in vain,”
“ Modred, whose magic song”—&c.
If alliteration thus contributes to enforce the expres¬
sion of a poetical sentiment, its advantages in poetry
must be considerable. It is not, therefore, unworthy
a poet’s regard in the act of composition. If two
words offer of equal propriety, the one alliterative, the
other not, we think the first ought to be chosen. We
would compare this to the practice of fuguing in mu¬
sic. A composer who aims at expression will not hunt
after fugues 5 but if they offer, if they seem to arise
spontaneously from the subject, he will not reject them.
So a good poet ought not to select an epithet merely
for beginning with a certain letter, unless it suit Ins
purpose well in every other respect j for the beauty of
alliteration, when happy, is not greater than its de¬
formity when affected. A couplet from Pope will ex¬
emplify both } the first line being bad, and the second
good :
“ Eternal beauties grace the shining scene,
“ Fields everyresh, and groves for ever green.”
ALLIUM (from uMu, “ to avoid or shun,” because
many shun the smell of it), Garlic. See Botany
Index.
ALLIX, Peter, a French Protestant divine, was
born at Alen^on in France, in the year 1641. He be¬
came a learned divine of the English church, and a
strenuous defender of the Protestant faith. At the
time when the edict of Nantes tolerated and protected
the Protestants of France, he entered upon his clerical
profession, and remained minister of Rouen until the
thirty-fifth year of his age. In this period he wrote
several pieces upon the controversy between the Pa¬
pists and the Protestants, which obtained him great
fame among his own party. He removed to Charen-
ton in the vicinity of Paris, which was the principal
church among the reformed, and frequented by per¬
sons of the first rank in France, who professed the Pro¬
testant faith. Here Allix preached a course of excel¬
lent sermons in defence of the Protestant religion, some
of which were afterwards printed in Holland, and ad¬
ded to his increasing fame. The chief object of these
sermons was to repel the attack of the bishop of
Meaux, the most ingenious and able opponent of the
Reformation at that time. The unwise revocation of
the edict of Nantes drove Allix and many others to
seek refuge in England. Three years after his arrival
in England, he had made himself so perfectly master
of the English language as to be able to write very
correctly a “ Defence of the Christian Religion.”
This work he dedicated to James II. in testimony of
gratitude for his kind reception of the distressed refu¬
gees of France. In justice to the memory of James,
4 U a and
Allitera¬
tion
1!
Allot.
ALL [ 7°8 ] ALL
and as a specimen of the talents of Allix, it may be
proper to give an extract from this curious dedication.
—“ As your majesty continues still to give such illu¬
strious instanc es of your clemency and royal protection
to those of our nation ; so I confess, Sir, I thought my¬
self under an obligation to lay hold upon this opportu¬
nity of publishing what all those who find so sure a pro¬
tection in your majesty’s dominions feel and think as
much as myself upon these new testimonies of your royal
bounty. When your majesty had taken us into your
particular care, and had granted us several privileges,
and so made us sharers in all the advantages which
those who live under your government enjoy 5 your
majesty did yet something more, and inspired all your
subjects with the same compassion towards us, with
which your royal breast was already touched. You
saw our miseries, and resolved to give us ease ; and
this generous design was executed, and your royal cle¬
mency diffused in the hearts of all your subjects. The
whole world, Sir, which has received upon all its coasts
some remainders of our shipwreck, is filled with admi¬
ration of the unexampled effects of your majesty’s cle¬
mency. I could wish, Sir, that this work which I now
present to your majesty might be so happy as to pass
to posterity vvith this character of our acknowledgment,
and that it might stand as a faithful record for ever to
perpetuate the memory of that lively sense of your boun¬
ty which is imprinted on all our hearts.”
Not long after his arrival in England, he was ho¬
noured with the title of doctor of divinity, and also re¬
ceived the more substantial honour of being appointed
treasurer of the church of Salisbury. Alhx still main¬
tained the station of a champion for the Protestant
cause, and in opposition to the bishop of Meaux proved
that the charge of heresy justly belonged to the Papists,
and not to their opponents, because they had introduced
new doctrines into the church.
After having with much industry and learning ex¬
ercised his talents in defence of Protestantism, he em¬
ployed his pen to support the doctrine of the Trinity
against the Unitarians, who contended that the idea of
Christ’s divinity could be traced up no higher than the
time of Justin Martyr. With a great display of eru¬
dition, he attempted to prove that the Trinitarian doc¬
trine was believed by the Jewish church. But the re¬
putation which he had acquired for learning and abili¬
ty was somewhat diminished, by the ridicule which he
brought upon himself in attempting to fix the precise
time of Christ’s second coming to the year 17 20, or at
the very latest, to the year 1736. He died at Lon¬
don in the year 1717, after his studious life had been
protracted to the length of 76 years. He left behind
inm numerous proofs of his great talents, extensive
iearmng, uncommon industry, and zealous attachment
to the doctrines of the church of England. (Gen. Biog.\
UnA A’ °r ^LL2WAY> a sea-port town in Scot¬
land, seated on the Forth, about 20 miles higher up
the river than Leith, and five miles east of Stirling.
It is a populous place ; has two market days in the
Mr fU- 13 freMai'kab1^ fr itS cast]e> the seat of
Mr Erskine of Mar, and for the coal mines near it.
Hie harbour is extremely commodious, with creat
epth of water; and vessels are expeditiously loaded
with coals from the pits by un uncommon waggon-wav
on which one horse draws with ease three waggons at
once, each waggon containing a ton and a half. An Hies
excellent dry dock has also lately been erected here, 1}
capable of receiving ships of the greatest burden. There Allotuti#.
is likewise a large glass house for blowing bottles, 0fJ
which vessels are supplied with any quantity upon the
shortest notice.
The tower and lands of Alloa were exchanged by
David II. king of Scots, anno 1365, with Thomas
Lord Erskine, for the lands and estate of Strathsartney
in Perthshire 5 and since that time the castle of Alloa
has been the favourite residence of the family of Mar.
The situation is uncommonly beautiful. The gardens
here were the first that were laid out on a great scale
in Scotland 5 and, with the advice of La Nautre, were
indebted to the taste of John the late earl of Mar, who
began to plant them in the year 1706. They contain
about torty acres, in which there is some very fine tim¬
ber, near a century old.
The tower of Alloa is 89 feet in height, with walls
of 11 feet in thickness j and was built in the end of
the 13th century. In this residence of the family of
Erskine many of the Scottish princes received their
education, having been for more than two centuries the
wards of the Lords Erskine and Earls of Mar j who
held generally the castle of Stirling, and frequently the
three principal fortresses of the kingdom, Edinburgh,
Stirling, and Dumbarton. The last heir of the Scot¬
tish monarchy who was nurtured there was Henry
prince of Wales •, whose cradle, golf-clubs, and other
infantine and youthful remains, are preserved by the
heir of the earls of Mar, in remembrance of that spirit¬
ed and promising prince j of whom Dr Birch has pre¬
served several anecdotes, connected with the Erskines
and his residence at Alloa. Among other remains of
antiquity preserved at Alloa, in remembrance of the
confidence and affection which subsisted always betwixt
the Stuarts and the Erskines, is the private signet of
the unfortunate iMary, which she gave to the regent
Mar, after she was obliged by the treaty of Edinburgh
to desist from wearing the arms of England in the first
quarter j the child’s chair of James VI. her son j and
the festive chair of Thomas Lord Erskine the second
earl of Mar of the name, with the fashionable grace
carved on it, Soli Deo Honor et Gloria.
ALLOBROGES, (Inscription, Livy, Velleius, Fio-
rus) j from Allobrox (Horace) : a people of Gallia Nar-
bonensis, situated between the rivers Isara and Rhoda-
nus, and the Lacus Lemanus; commended by Cicero
for their fidelity $ but reproached by Horace on account
of their fondness for novelty.
Novisque rebus injidelis Allobrox. Epod. 16.
ALLOCATION denotes the admitting or allow¬
ing of an article of an account, especially in the ex¬
chequer. Hence
Allocations Facienda, is a writ directed to the lord
treasurer, or barons of the exchequer, commanding
them to allow an accountant such sums as he has law¬
fully expended in the execution of his office.
ALL0CU1I0, an oration or speech of a general
addressed to his soldiers, to animate them to fight, to
appease sedition, or to keep them to their duty. A
mount of eartli was raised upon the occasion, as it were
a kind of a tribunal of turf. From this the general
pronounced his harangue to the array, which was ran-
A L L
AHedtum ged in several squadrons round him, with their captains
11 at their head. When the time and circumstances
, , would not admit of a formal harangue, the general
/ went through the ranks, and called each by his name,
putting them in mind of their courage upon former oc¬
casions, mentioning the victories they had won, and
making a promise of plunder.
ALLODIUM, or Alleud, denotes lands which
are the absolute property of their owner, without being
obliged to pay any service or acknowledgment what¬
ever to a superior lord. See Fee and Feodal System.
ALLOPHA LLUS, in Rotcint/. See Botany In¬
dex.
ALLOTTING, or Allotment of Goods, in mat¬
ters of commerce, is when a ship’s cargo is divided in¬
to several parts, bought by divers persons, whose names
are written on as many pieces of paper, which are ap¬
plied by an indifferent person to the several lots or par¬
cels ; by which means the goods are divided without
partiality, every man having the parcel which the lot
with his name appropriates.
ALLOWAY Creek, in Salem county, New Jer¬
sey, empties into the Delaware. It is navigable 16
miles, interrupted, however, by several draw-bridges.
ALLOY, or Allay, properly signifies a propor¬
tion of a baser metal mixed with a finer one. The al¬
loy of gold is estimated by carats, that of silver by
pennyweights. In different nations different propor¬
tions of alloy are used $ whence their moneys are said
to be of different degrees of fineness or baseness, and
are valued accordingly in foreign exchanges. The
chief reasons alleged for the alloying of coin are :
i. The mixture of the metals, which, when smelted
from the mine, are not perfectly pure. 2. The saving
the expence it must otherwise cost if they were to be
refined. 3. The necessity of rendering them harder,
by mixing some parts of other metals with them, to
prevent the diminution of weight by wearing in pas¬
sing from hand to hand. 4. The melting of foreign
gold or coin which is alloyed. 5. The charges of
coinage, which must be made good by the profit arising
from the money coined. 6. and lastly, The duty be¬
longing to the sovereign, on account of the power he
has to cause money to be coined in his dominions.
, In a more general sense, the word is employed in
chemistry to signify the union of different metallic mat¬
ters.—As an infinity of different combinations may be
made according to the nature, the number, and the
proportions of the metallic matters capable of being al¬
loyed, we shall not here enter into the detail of the
particular alloys, all which are not yet nearly known.
Those which are used, as Bronze, Tombac, Brass, White
Copper, &c. may be found in the articles Chemistry,
and what is knowm concerning other alloys will be
treated of along with the metals in the same article.
See Chemistry Index.
ALLUM. See Alum.
ALLUMINOR, from the French allumer, “ to
lighten,” is used for one who coloureth or painteth upon
paper or parchment j and the reason is, because he gives
light and ornament by his colours to the letters or other
figures. Such ornaments are styled illuminations. The
word is used in stat. I. B.,III. cap. 9. But now such
a person is called a limner.
ALLUSH, in Ancient Geography. The Israelites
[ 7°9 ]
A L M
being in the wilderness of Shur, departed from Doph-
kah, and went to Allush, from whence they proceeded
to Rephidim 5 Num. xxxiii. 13, 14. Eusebius and St
Jerome fix Allush in Idumea, about Gabala or Petra,
the capital of Arabia Petraea. In the accounts of the
empire, it is situated in the third Palestine j and by
Ptolemy, among the cities of Idumaea.
ALLUSION, in Rhetoric, a figure by which some¬
thing is applied to, or understood of, another, on ac¬
count of some similitude between them.
ALLUVION, in Law, denotes the gradual increase
of land along the sea-shore, or on banks of rivers.
ALLY, in matters of polity, a sovereign prince or
state that has entered into alliance with others. See
Alliance.
ALMACANTARS. See Almucantars.
ALMACARRON, a sea-port town of Spain, in the
province of Murcia, at the mouth of the river Guada-
lantin. It is about twenty miles west of Carthagena,
and is remarkable for the prodigious quantity of alum
found in its territory. W. Long. 1. 15. N. Lat. 37. 40.
ALMADEN, a town of Spain, in the province of
La Mancha, in the kingdom of Castile, situated upon
the top of a mountain, where are the most ancient as
well as the richest silver mines in Europe.
ALMADIE, a kind of canoe or small vessel, about
four fathoms long, commonly made of bark, and used
by the negroes of Africa.
Almadie is also the name of a kind of long boats,
fitted out at Calicut, which are eighty feet in length,
and six or seven in breadth. They are exceedingly
swift, and are otherwise called cathuri.
ALMAGEST, in matters of literature, is particu¬
larly used for a collection or book composed bv Ptole¬
my, containing various problems of the ancients both
in geometry and astronomy.
Almagest is also the title of other collections of
this kind. Thus, Riccioli has published a book of"
astronomy, which he calls the New Almagest ; and Plu-
kenet, a book which he calls Almagestum Botanicum*
ALMAGRA, a fine deep red ochre, with some ad¬
mixture of purple, very heavy, and of a dense yet fri¬
able structure, and rough dusty surface. It adheres
very firmly to the tongue, melts freely and easily in the
mouth, is of an austere and strongly astringent taste,
and stains the skin in touching. It is the Sil Atticum
of the ancients j it ferments very violently with acid
menstruums ; by which single quality, it is sufficiently
distinguished from the Sil Syricum, to which it has in
many respects a great affinity. It is found in immense
quantities in many parts of Spain; and in Andalusia
there are in a manner whole mountains of it. It is
used in painting, and in medicine as an astringent.
ALMAGRO, a fortress of Spain, the capital of
one of the districts of La Mancha. It was built by
the archbishop Roderic of Toledo, who finished it in
1214, and put a considerable garrison into it to restrain
the incursions of the Moors. This was hardly done,
when the fortress was besieged by an army of 5000
horse and foot, under the command of a Moorish offi¬
cer of great reputation j but the prelate, its founder,
took care to supply those within with such plenty of
necessaries, that at length the enemy found themselves*
obliged to raise the siege and retire with great loss.
Almagro, Diego de, a Spanish commander, was
Allusit*
11
Almagre.
A L M [7
Almai^ro. of such obscure birth and mean parentage that he de-
 v_—rived his name from the village ’.vhere he was born, in
1463. Deprived of the means of early instruction, he
could neither read nor write, but nevertheless, in con¬
sequence of his improvements in the military art, he
formed an association with Pizarro and de Luque, for
the purpose of discoveries and conquest upon the Peru¬
vian coast. The governor of Panama having sanctioned
their enterprise, they devoted their united exertions to
that undertaking. Pizarro directed the conquest, and
AJmagro was appointed to conduct the supplies, pro¬
visions, and reinforcements. In the two first unsuccess¬
ful attempts, he performed this office with persevering
fidelity and uncommon activity. His perseverance was
followed with complete success } tor they at last dis¬
covered the coast of Peru, and landed at Tumbez, di¬
stinguished by its temple and palace of the incas or so¬
vereigns, and situated about three degrees south of the
line. Pizzaro was sent over to Spain to solicit farther
powers, after the three adventurers had previously ad¬
justed their future preferments, and agreed that Pizarro
should be governor, Almagro lieutenant-governor, and
Luque bishop. In this negociation Pizarro obtained
the clerical dignity for Luque ; but chiefly concerned
about his own interest, he neglected the preferment
of Almagro. On his return, Almagro was so enraged,
that he refused to act with such a perfidious companion,
and resolved to form a new association. Pizarro for
the present artfully endeavoured to avert the indigna¬
tion of Almagro, and gradually soothed the I’age and
disappointment of the soldier. The union was renewed
upon the former terms j and it was solemnly stipulated
that a common expence and a common advantage
should take place.
In February 1531, leaving Almagro at Panama, to
supply provisions and reinforcements, Pizarro set sail
for Peru. He attacked a principal settlement of the
natives, in the province of Coaque, obtained immense
spoil, and made such ample remittances to Almagro, as
enabled him to complete his reinforcement, and in the
close of the year 1532, he arrived at St Michael with
a body of men, which nearly doubled the number of
those which Pizarro had along with him. The Spa¬
niards about this time took captive the unfortunate Inca
Atahualpa j and alter they had received an immense
sum for his ransom, they barbarously put him to death.
Pizarro sailed for Spain with the news of their success,
and with remittances to a great amount; and conse¬
quently Almagro gained that elevated station he so long
and eagerly desired. But no sooner had Almagro re¬
ceived the intelligence of his promotion by the royal
grant, than he attempted to seize Cuzco, the imperial
residence of tlie incas, under pretence that it lay with¬
in his destined territory. This produced a new quar¬
rel} but peace was restored upon the determination of
Almagro to attempt the conquest of Chili, and likewise
to have part of the territory of Peru.
, I” ,ie accordingly set out at the head of 570
Europeans, and in crossing the mountains, he suffered
great hardships and losses by mistaking the route, but
at length he descended into the plains of that devoted
region. Here he met with a more vigorous resistance
Irom the natives than the Spaniards had ever experi¬
enced in other countries. He had, however, made
3
o ] A L M
some progress, when he was recalled to Peru by the Alraa^f*
news of the natives having risen in great numbers, v—-
and attacked Lima and Cuzco. He pursued a new
route, and marching through the sandy plains on the
coast, he suflered by heat and drought calamities not
inferior to those which he had endured from cold and
famine on the summit of the Andes. Arriving at a
favourable moment, he resolved to hold the place both
against the Indians and his Spanish rivals. He attack¬
ed the Peruvian army with great vigour, and making
a great slaughter, he proceeded to the gates of Cuzco
without any further interruption. The open, affable,
and generous temper of Almagro, gained over to his
side many of the adherents of the Pizarros, who were
disgusted with their harsh and oppressive conduct.
With their aid, he advanced towards the city by night,
surprised the sentinels, and surrounded the house where
the two brothers resided, who were compelled, after an
obstinate defence, to surrender at discretion. A form
of government was settled in the name of Almagro,
and his jurisdiction over Cuzco was universally ac¬
knowledged. This was the origin of a civil war j the
beginning of which was very advantageous to Almagro,
who by skilful manoeuvres entirely routed a body of
Spanish troops advancing to the relief of Cuzco, and
made Alvarado their commander prisoner. But instead
of improving these advantages, be unwisely marched
back to Cuzco, and there awaited the arrival of Pizarro.
Pizarro, convinced of bis own feeble resources, pro¬
posed an accommodation, and with his usual art pro¬
tracted the negociation until he found himself in a con¬
dition to meet his antagonist in the field of battle.
Meanwhile Alvarado and one of the Pizarros, by
bribing their keepers, found means to escape, and per¬
suaded 60 of the men who guarded them to attend
them in their flight $ and the governor released the
other Pizarro. When Pizarro thought himself suffi¬
ciently prepared to settle the dominion of Peru, he
marched with an army of 500 men to Cuzco. Alma¬
gro, previous to this, worn out with age and infirmity,
resigned the command to Orgognez, A fierce and
bloody battle ensued, in which Almagro was made
prisoner, his army defeated, and the commander wound¬
ed. About 140 soldiers fell in the field, and Orgog¬
nez, along with several others, was massacred in cold
blood. During that fatal day, Almagro, placed in a
litter, which was stationed on an eminence, beheld
from thence the total defeat of his troops, and felt
all the indignation of a soldier who had seldom ex¬
perienced defeat. He was taken prisoner, remained
several months in confinement,and afterwards was tried,
and condemned to death. In the view of an ignomini¬
ous death, the courage of the veteran forsook him, and
he unsuccessfully supplicated for life, in a manner un¬
worthy o! his former character. All the arguments
he could employ were ineffectual. The Pizarros re¬
mained unmoved by all his entreaties. As soon, how¬
ever, as Almagro saw that his fate w’as inevitable, he
resumed his courage, and exhibited all his usual dig¬
nity and fortitude. In the year 1538, and in the 75th
year ol his age, he was strangled in prison, and after¬
wards beheaded. He left one son by an Indian woman
of Panama j and in consequence of a power which the
emperor bad granted, he declared his son his successor
ia
lit
Jin#
Alow^ro, in tlie government, although
Almamon. jn L;ma>
A L M [ 7
he was then a prisoner
yVith the qualities of intrepid valour, indefatigable
activity, and unsurmountable constancy, he blended the
more amiable dispositions of frankness, generosity, and
candour. I hese qualities rendered him beloved by his
followers 5 and his misfortunes excited their sympathy
and pity : so that his death was universally regretted,
and particularly by the poor Indians, who deemed him
their guardian and protector against the cruel and un¬
feeling Pizarro. Upon the whole review of his cha¬
racter, it appears just to conclude, that he was, although
of inferior abilities, a more amiable man than his rival.
{Gen. Siog.)
Almagro the Younger, by his courage, genero¬
sity, and other accomplishments, was placed at the
head of the party after the death of his father. The
tather, conscious of his own inferiority from the total
want of education, used every possible means to improve
the mind and embellish the manners of his son ; se that
he soon acquired those accomplishments which rendered
him respected by illiterate adventurers, who cheerfully
ranged inund his standard } and, by' his dexterity and
skill, sought deliverance from the oppressions of Pizzaro.
Juan de Herrada, an officer of great abilities, conti¬
nued still to direct his counsels and to regulate his
enterprises : and, while Pizzaro confided in his own
security, a conspiracy was formed against, him, which
terminated in his death. The assassins, exulting in
their success, and waving their bloody swords, hasten¬
ed to the street, proclaimed the death of the tyrant,
and compelled the magistrates and principal citizens of
Lima to acknowledge Almagro as lawful successor of
his father. But his reign was ot short duration ; for,
in 1^41, \ aca de Castro, arriving at Quito, produced
the royal commission, appointing him governor of
Peru, together with all the privileges and authority
of Pizarro. The talents and influence of the new go¬
vernor soon overpowered the interest of Almagro, who,
perceiving the rapid decline of his influence, hastened
with his troops to Cuzco, where his opponents had
erected the royal standard under the command of Pe¬
dro Alvarez Holguin. Herrada the guide of his coun¬
sels died during his march ; and from that time his
measuies were consoicuous for their violence, concert¬
ed with little ingenuity, and executed with little ad¬
dress. On September x6. 1542 at length the forces
of Almagro and \ aca de Castro met, and victory long
remained doubtful j till at last it declared for the new
governor. I be followers of Almagro displayed un¬
common valour, and Almagro conducted the military
operations of that fatal day with a gallant spirit, wor¬
thy of a better cause and deserving of a better fate. In
proportion to the number of combatants the carnage
was very great. Of 1500 men 500 fell in the field,
and many more were wounded. Almagro escaped,
but being betrayed by some of his own officers, he was
publicly beheaded at Cuzco, and in him the name and
spirit of the party of Almagro became extinct. {Gen.
Bfog.)
ALMAMON, or Mamon, also named Abdallah,
caliph of Bagdad, was born A. D. 785. His elder
brother A1 Amin succeeded to the caliphate on the
death of his father, and Aimamon at that time was
11 ] A L M
governor of Chorasan. As by the will of the father it Almamon
was provided, that his three sons should succeed to the —y—
caliphate in order, Almamon ordered his elder bro-
t.<ei to be pioclaimed caliph throughout his govern-
men!:. But his. brother repaid his friendship and at¬
tachment to his interest with open expressions of hatred,
and unjust attempts to exclude him from the destined
succession. Almamon was thus forced to consult mea-
sures for his own safety and promotion, by causing him¬
self to be proclaimed caliph. After various struggles,
his general, Thaher, in the year 813, took possession of
Bagdad, pursued A! Amin to his retreat, and caused
him to be assassinated,so that Almamon remained with¬
out a competitor. Various rebellions disturbed the
tranquillity of the first years of his reign ; but by his
prudent administration and vigorous exertions, these
W'ere at length extinguished. Instigated by the Advice
of Ins vizier, be soon after raised greater commotions,
and exposed bis dignity to greater dangers, by counte¬
nancing the sect of Ali. He invited to court Iman
Ivizza, gave him his daughter in marriage, and even de¬
clared him Ins successor in the empire. He assumed
the green turban, the colour of the house of Ali, and
obliged his courtiers and soldiers to imitate his example.
Alarmed at these proceedings, the orthodox Mussul¬
mans, and the house of Abbas, excited a great revolt
in Bagdad, and proclaimed Ibrahim, Almamon’s uncle,
caliph. A civil war was just about to commence, when
Jadel the vizier was assassinated, and Rizza died,
ihe people of Bagdad then deposed Ibrahim, and
returned to their former allegiance. Taking the ad¬
vantage of Almamon’s absence, Thaher his general
seized upon the government of Chorasan, where he
founded a dynasty which existed during a period of 16 -
years.
Almamon employed the period of tranquillity that
followed, in the introduction and improvement of lite¬
rature into his dominions, which constitutes the great¬
est glory of his reign. During the days of his father
he discovered an ardent thirst alter knowledge, by form
ing a college in Chorasan, adorned with the most emi¬
nent men of various countries ; and appointed Mesue,
a famous Christian physician of Damascus, for their
president. W hen his father remonstrated against con¬
ferring such an honour upon a Christian, he reminded
him, that the most learned men and the most skilful
artists in his dominions were Jews and Christians j and
added, that he had chosen Mesue as a preceptor in sci¬
ence and useful arts, and not as a teacher of religion.
Under his auspices Bagdad became the seat of litera¬
ture, of private and academical instruction, and the ha¬
bitation of men of eminence from all quarters. Many
valuable books in the Greek, Persian, Chaldean, and
Coptic languages, among which were the works of
Aristotle and Galen, were translated into the Arabic at
his own expence. 1 his caliph himself deemed it an
honour to set an example to others of the becoming
respect due to mental cultivation, by visiting the schools,
and treating the professors with great regard. In ma¬
thematics, astronomy, and philosophy, he made a rapid
and extensive progress. He was the author of astrono¬
mical tables, which on account of their accuracy have
been much admired. By these various exeitions the
character of the Saracens was suddenly changed from
A L M [ 71
4k4i*w«iott. a rude and ferocious to a polite and civilized people,
—\r—' while the most powerful and extensive of the Euro¬
pean states were involved in ignorance and barbarism.
Literature has sustained some irreparable losses from his
too great partiality to the Arabic writers, which indu¬
ced him to destroy the originals of the translated ma¬
nuscripts. He is represented by the Sonnites or or¬
thodox Mahometans as little better than an Infidel,
because of his attention to philosophy and letters. His
conduct, however, shows that he was not sufficiently
careful to preserve a philosophical mean betwixt the
different religious parties during the time of his admi¬
nistration, as he openly manifested a predilection to the
doctrines of the Motazeli, who asserted the free will of
man, and denied the eternity of the Koran. Some al¬
lege that on account of the murmurs which arose a-
gainst him, he was induced to exhibit too great a zeal
by establishing a kind of inquisition, to compel all his
subjects to profess Islamism. The experiment, however,
soon terminated in the better and juster expedient of
universal toleration ; and it is abundantly evident, that
the Christians in his dominions never felt the power of
his inquisition.
The public transactions of his reign are in themselves
important. In the year 822 he sent a body of his
troops to the assistance of Thomas, a Greek, who made
war on Michael the Stammerer, the emperor of Con¬
stantinople, and besieged his capital. This expedition,
^ which on the part of the caliph seems to have been
founded in justice, proved unsuccessful j Thomas
was taken prisoner, and suffered death. In the years
829 and 830, he commenced open hostilities upon
the Greeks, rendered himself master of many places,
and carried devastation into their territories. He was
successful in suppressing a revolt in Egypt in the year
831. In this country he was led to discover a treasure
buried under two columns by Merwan, the last caliph
of the house of Ommijah. In repairing a decayed mi-
kias or measuring pillar, and erecting a new one for
determining the gradation of the increase of the Nile,
Almamon displayed his love of science. In the year
833 he again visited Egypt; on his return he pene¬
trated into the territories of the Greek emperor, even
into Cilicia. Returning home he encamped on the
banks of a river, and excited by thirst, he drank too
freely of the water j and at the same time indulged
himself immoderately in eating a particular kind of
dates, which brought on a complaint in his stomach,
and reduced him to the most imminent danger. Sen¬
sible of his approaching dissolution, he wrote letters in¬
to all the provinces, announcing his brother Motassem
his successor j and then patiently aw'aited the event. Af¬
ter a tedious struggle under the pressure of his disease,
and while uttering this ejaculation, “ O thou who ne¬
ver diest, have mercy on me, a dying man ?” he expir¬
ed at the age of forty-eight or forty-nine years. He
reigned 27 years and some months, and was buried at
tarsus, which some religious zealots interpreted as a
mark of reprobation.
The history of this caliph affords an illustrious in¬
stance of the meliorating effect of science and literature
upon the conduct and temper of rude and uncultivated
men. Under the milder features of a liberal, virtuous,
and beneficent sovereign, the usual cruelty of a Sara-
2 ] A L M
cen and a despot seemed entirely lost. He displayed Almaason.
an uncommon greatness of mind and an unusual ex- Almanack,
ample of clemency, in his conduct towards his rival —-y—*—'
and uncle Ibrahim. After his deposition, that prince
concealed himself in some sequestered corner of Bagdad.
The place of his concealment being at length discover¬
ed, he was instantly brought before the caliph, and in¬
formed that the council had unanimously condemned
him to death. “ Your counsellors (said Ibrahim) have
judged according to the customary rules of political
government; if you pardon me, you will not, indeed,
judge according to precedent, but you will have no
equal among sovereigns.” The caliph rose up and em¬
bracing him tenderly with great emotion, said, “Uncle,
be of good cheer j I will not do you the least injury j”
and he added to forgiveness a fortune suitable to his
birth and former elevated station. When Almamon’s
courtiers complimented him on this generous action, he
exclaimed, “ O ! did men but know the pleasure I feel
in pardoning, all who have offended me would come
and confess their faults.” To the same generosity of
disposition may be ascribed his strong predilection to
the oppressed house of Ali, which filled the beginning
of his reign with political troubles. By his frequent
intercourse with men of enlightened minds, and of dif¬
ferent religious sentiments, he acquired a liberality very
unusual in a Mussulman 5 and his preference to some
particular opinions seems to have originated from his
own vigour of mind, and his knowledge of these opi¬
nions. {Gen. Biog.')
ALMANACK, a book or table, containing a ka-
lendar of days and months, the rising and setting of
the sun, the age of the moon, the eclipses of both lu¬
minaries, &c.—Authors are divided with regard to the
etymology of the word 5 some deriving it from the
Arabic particle al and manucJi, to count j some from
almanack, new-years gifts, because the Arabian astro¬
logers used at the beginning of the year to make pre¬
sents of their ephemerides $ and others, from the Teu¬
tonic almaen achte, observations on all the months. Dr
Johnson derives it from the Arabic particle al, and the
Greek pi», a month. But the most simple etymology
appears from the common spelling; the word being
composed of two Arabic ones, Al Maiiack, which
signify the Diary. All the classes of Arabs are com¬
monly much given to the study of astronomy and astro-
logy 5 to both which a pastoral life, and a sort of hus¬
bandry, not only incline them, but afford time and
opportunity to cultivate them. They neither sow, reap,
plant, travel, buy or sell, or undertake any expedi¬
tion or business, without previously consulting the stars,
or, in other words, their almanacks, or some of the ma¬
kers of them. From these people, by their vicinity to
Europe, this art, no less useful in one sense than trifling
and ridiculous in another, hath passed over hither: and
those astronomical compositions have still everywhere
not only retained their old Arabic name $ but were,
like theirs, for a long while, and still are among many
European nations, interspersed w’ith a great number of
astrological rules for planting, sowing, bleeding, pur¬
ging, &c. down to the cutting of the hair and paring
of the nails.—Regiomontanus appears to have been the
first in Europe, however, who reduced almanacks into
their present form and method, gave the characters of
A L M C 7r3 ] A L M
ihnaaadr. each year and month, foretold the eclipses and other
phases, calculated the motions of the planets, &c. His
first almanack was published in 1474.
The essential part of an almanack is the kalendar of
tnonths and days, with the risings and settings of the sun,
age of the moon, &c. To these are added various parer-
ga, astronomical, meteorological, chronological, politi¬
cal, rural, &c. as calculations and accounts of eclipses,
solar ingresses, prognostics of the weather, tables of the
tide, terms, &c. lists of posts, offices, dignities, pu¬
blic institutions, with many other articles political as
well as local, and differing in different countries. A
great variety are annually published in Britain ; some
for binding, which may be denominated book alma¬
nacks ; others in loose papers, called sheet almanacks.
The modern almanack answers to the Fasti of the
ancient Romans. See Fasti.
Construction of Almanacks. The first thing to be
done is, to compute the sun’s and moon’s place for
each day of the year, or it may be taken from some
ephemerides and entered into the almanack 5 next, find
the dominical letter, and, by means thereof, distribute
the kalendar into weeks j then, having computed the
time of Easter, by it fix the other moveable feasts $ ad¬
ding the immoveable ones, with the names of the mar¬
tyrs, the rising and setting of each luminary, the length
of day and night, the aspects of the planets, the phases
of the moon, and the sun’s entrance into the cardinal
points of the ecliptic, i. e. the two equinoxes and
solstices. (See Astronomy, passim). By the help
of good astronomical tables or ephemerides, the con¬
struction «f almanacks is extremely easy.
For every almanack or kalendar for one year or
less, a stamp duty of 8d. must be paid. And for eve¬
ry almanack serving more than a year, the same duty
is paid for each year. Perpetual almanacks pay for
three years only. All books and pamphlets serving
chiefly the purpose of almanacks, are charged as such.
If any almanack contains more than one sheet, one
sheet only need be stamped ; and every almanack is re¬
quired by law to be so printed, that some part of the
print shall be upon the stamp. Selling unstamped al¬
manacks incurs the same penalty as for selling unstamp¬
ed newspapers. Almanacks in bibles and common pray¬
er books are exempted.
Almanacks, among Antiquaries^ is also the name
given to a kind of instrument, usually of wood, in¬
scribed with various figures and Runic characters, and
representing the order of the feasts, dominical letters,
days of the week, and golden number, with other mat¬
ters necessary to be known throughout the year j used
Fy the ancient northern nations, in their computations
«f time, both civil and ecclesiastical. Almanacks of
this kind are known by various names, among the dif¬
ferent nations wherein they have been used 3 as rim-
stocks, primstaries, runstocks, runstaffs, Scipiones llu-
nici, Bacculi Annales, clogs, &c. They appear to
have been used only by the Swedes, Danes, and Nor¬
wegians. From the second of these people, their use
was introduced into England, whence divers remains
of them in the counties. Dr Plot has given the de¬
scription and figure of one of these clogs, found in
Staffordshire, under the title of The Perpetual Stafford¬
shire Almanack. The external figure and matter of
these kalendars appear to have been various. Some-
. Vot. I. Part II. f
times they were cut on one or more wooden leaves, Almanack,
bound together after the manner of books } sometimes Almansor.
on the scabbards of swords, or even daggers 3 some- ‘ »
times on tools and implements, as portable steelyards,.
hammers, the helves of hatchets, flails, &c. Some¬
times they were made of brass or horn 3 sometimes of
the skins of eels, which being drawn over a stick pro¬
perly inscribed, retained the impressions of it. But
the most usual form was that of walking staves, or
sticks, which they carried about with them to church,
market, &c. Each of these staves is divided into three
regions 3 whereof the first indicates the signs, the se¬
cond the days of the week and year, and the third the
golden number. The characters engraven on them are,
in some, the ancient Runic j in others the latter Gothic
characters of Ulfilas. The saints days are expressed in
hieroglyphics, significative either of some endowment
of the saint, the manner of his martyrdom, or the like.
Thus against the notch for the first of March, or St
David’s day, is represented a harp ; against the 25th
of October, or Crispin’s day, a pair of shoes 5 against
the 10th of August, or St Lawrence’s day, a gridiron 3
and, lastly, against New-year’s day, a horn, the symbol
of liberal potations, which our ancestors indulged in at
that period.
ALMANSOR the Victorious, the second caliph
of the house of A1 Abbas, succeeded his brother Abul
Abbas A1 Saffah, in the year 753, of the Hegira 136,
and in the following year was inaugurated at A1 Ha-
shemiyah. Although A1 Safl’ah had declared him pre¬
sumptive heir of the crown, and he had been proclaim¬
ed caliph in the imperial city of Anbar, yet imme¬
diately upon his inauguration, his uncle Abdallah ebn
Ali had sufficient interest to cause himself to be pro¬
claimed caliph at Damascus. In Arabia, Syria, and
Mesopotamia, he collected a numerous army, and ar¬
rived at the banks of the Masius, near Nisibis, where
he encamped, ready to dispute his royal accession by
arms. Almansor collected an immense army in Per¬
sia, Khorasan, and Irak, and gave the command of it
to Abu Moslem, who harassed his uncle’s troops for
five months, and at last totally defeated him, A. D.
754. Notwithstanding the services which Abu Mo¬
slem had rendered to the family of A1 Abbas, af¬
ter this victory he became an object of jealousy, and
was assassinated in the presence of Almansor himself,
by his express order. After the death of Abu Moslem,
the standard of rebellion was raised by Simon a Magi-
an, who seized on the treasures of the deceased go¬
vernor of Khorasan, and excited the people of that
country to a general revolt 3 but this insurrection was
suddenly quelled by the general of Almansor, Jam-
hur ebn Morad, The caliph avariciously seized the
spoils of this victory, which so incensed Jamhur that he
immediately turned his arms against his royal master 3
but he was soon defeated by the caliph’s forces. The
patriarch of Antioch was about this time detected in
an illicit correspondence with the Grecian emperor, and
consequently was banished into an obscure part of Pa¬
lestine 3 and in the mean time the Christians in the do¬
minions of the caliph were prohibited from building
or repairing any churches, and also were laid under se¬
veral other severe restraints.
Almansor sent a large army into Cappadocia in
the year 757, fortified the city of Malatia or Me-
4 X litene,
A L M [7
jU*»«s0h litene, and deposited in it a great part of his treasures.
—v-*—' Hut in this year he was attacked by a sect of believers
in the metempsychosis, called the Rawandians. This
sect assembled at A1 Hashemiyah, the residence of the
caliph, and by the ceremony of going in procession
round his palace, intimated their purpose of invoking
him as a deity, and paying him divine homage. In¬
censed by their impiety, the caliph ordered several of
these sectaries to be imprisoned, which roused their re¬
sentment, and led them to form the design of his as¬
sassination. The generous interposition of Maan ebn
Zaidet, an Ommiyan chief, who had been under the
necessity of concealing himself from the caliph’s re¬
sentment, however, defeated their intention. This in¬
sult received in his capital, induced him to build the
city of Bagdad, and to fix his residence there, A. D.
762. In the preceding year a plan was formed to de¬
throne him ; but it being discovered, he severely pu¬
nished all who were either directly or indirectly con¬
cerned in it. Abdallah his uncle shared the fate of
other rebels •, for being allured to court under the pro¬
mise of pardon and protection, he was placed in a build¬
ing which was so constructed that it immediately fell
and crushed him in its ruins. Not long after his resi¬
dence at Bagdad, he was seized with a disorder of which
he was cured by the advice of a famous Christian phy¬
sician, whose name was George ebn Baktisbua A1 Jon-
disaburi. The caliph, previously informed that he was
married to a wife old and infirm, as a recompense pre¬
sented him with three beautiful Greek girls, and a con¬
siderable sum of money ; the girls, to the caliph’s sur¬
prise, were sent back, with a declaration on the part of
George, that it was not lawful for a Christian to have
more wives than one at a time. The conduct of the
physician, on this occasion, raised him in the esteem of
the caliph, and procured him a greater profusion of fa¬
vours. In his succeeding military transactions, Alman-
sor was generally victorious. His conduct to his Chris¬
tian subjects was rigorous and severe. He set out on
a pilgrimage to Mecca in the year 774, and being
seized on the road with a dangerofts disease, he sent for
his son and intended successor Af Mohdi, and gave him
some salutary advice. “ I command you,” said he, “ to
treat publicly your relations with the greatest marks
of distinction, since this conduct will reflect no small
degree ol honour and glory upon yourself. Increase the
number of your freedmen, and treat them with all
kindness, as they will be of great service to you in
your adversity ; but neither this nor the other injunc¬
tion will ye fulfil. Enlarge not that part of your ca¬
pital erected on the eastern bank of the Tigris, as vou
will never be able to finish it ; but this work I know
you will attempt. Never permit any of your women to
intermeddle in aflairs of state, or to have any influence
over your councils j hut this advice I know you will not
take. . Ihese are my last commands; or, if you please,
my dying advice; and to God I now recommend you.”
In parting they both gave vent to their feelings in a
flood of tears. He pursued his journey to Bir-Maimun,
i.e. the well of Maimun, where he died in the 63d year
of his age and 20th of his reign, and his remains were
interred at Mecca.
The character of Almansor was formed of very dif¬
ferent and even contradictory qualities. His temper
conciliated affection and attachment in private life, but
„ 3
!4 ] A L M
in his public character his aspect and demeanour inspir¬
ed terror. He was well acquainted with the arts of go¬
vernment ; he was prudent and brave, but perfidious,
covetous, cruel, and implacable ; and amid such a va¬
riety of character, it is singular that he should have
displayed a love of study and literature, and particu¬
larly of astronomy. ( Gen. Biog.')
ALMANZA, a little town of New Castile, on the
frontiers of the kingdom of Valencia in Spain, situated
in W. Long. 1. 19. N. Lat. 38. 54. It is remarkable
for the defeat of the allies in 1707, under the marquis
de las Minas and the earl of Galway. In the beginning
of this action the English troops penetrated through
the centre of the Spanish army ; but the Portuguese ca¬
valry being broken by the Spanish, and the French in¬
fantry making a dreadful fire on their flanks, the allied
army was at last broken, and began the^r retreat when
it was almost dark. Colonel Hill carried off the re¬
mains of thirteen battalions towards the river Xucar,
which, if they could have passed, they might have
been safe : but being very much fatigued, they were
obliged to halt; by which means they were surrounded,
and forced to surrender prisoners of war. In this
battle, the allies lost 120 standards, together with all
their artillery and baggage ; a great number were killed,
and several thousands taken prisoners. The marquis de
las Minas was dangerously wounded; and his mistress,
in the garb of an amazon, killed by his side. The earl
of Galway had two cuts across the face, which, though
not dangerous, had prevented him from seeing, or giv¬
ing orders properly.
Heresy or ALMARIC, a tenet broached in
France by one Almaric, in the year 1209. It consist¬
ed in affirming, that every Christian was actually a
member of Christ; and that without this faith no one
could be saved. His followers went farther, and af¬
firmed that the power of the Father lasted only during
the continuance of the Mosaic law ; that the coming of
Christ introduced a new law; that at the end of this
began the reign of the Holy Ghost ; and that now
confession and the sacraments were at an end, and that
every one is to be saved by the internal operation of the
Holy Spirit alone, without any external act of reli¬
gion.—Their morals were as infamous as their doctrine
was absurd. Their tenets were condemned by a public
decree of the council of Sens, in the year 1 209.
ALME, or Alma, singing and dancing girls in
Egypt, who, like the Italian Improvisatori, can occa¬
sionally pour forth “ unpremeditated verse.” They
are called Alme, from having received a better edu¬
cation than other women. They form a celebrated so¬
ciety in that country. To be received into it, accord¬
ing to M. Savary, it is necessary to have a good voice,
to understand the language well, to know the rules
of poetry, and be able to compose and sing coup¬
lets on the spot, adapted to the circumstances. The
Alme know by heart all the new songs. Their me¬
mory is furnished with the most beautiful tales. There
is no festival without them ; no entertainment of which
they do not constitute the ornament. They are pla¬
ced in a rostrum, from whence they sing during the
repast. They then descend into the saloon, and form
dances which have no resemblance to ours. They are
pantomime ballets, in which they represent the usual
occurrences of life. The mysteries of love, too, ge¬
nerally
AllM&lUM
0
Aimf.
A L M [ 7
Aim,* ncrally furnish them with scenes. The suppleness of
(1 their bodies is inconceivable. One is astonished at the
Almehrab. mobility of their features, to which they give at plea-
’ sure the impression suited to the characters they play.
The indecency of their attitudes is often carried to ex¬
cess. Their looks, their gestures, every thing speaks,
but in so expressive a manner, that it is impossible to
mistake them. At the beginning of the dance, they
lay aside with their veils the modesty of their sex. A
long robe of very thin silk goes down to their heels,
which is slightly fastened with a rich girdle. Long
black hair, plaited and perfumed, is flowing on their
shoulders. A shift, transparent as gauze, scarcely hides
their bosom. As they put themselves in motion, the
shapes, the contours of their bodies, seem to develope
themselves successively. Their steps are regulated by
the sound of the flute, of castanets, the tambour de
basques, and cymbals, which accelerates or retards the
measure. They are still further animated by words
adapted to such scenes. They appear in a state of in¬
toxication. They are the bacchants in a delirium. It
is when they are at this point, that throwing off all re¬
serve, they abandon themselves totally to the disorder
of their senses j it is then that a people far f. om delicate,
and who like nothing hidden, redouble their applauses.
These Alme are sent for into all the harams. They
teach the women the new airs ; they amuse them with
amorous tales, and recite in their presence poems, which
are so much the more interesting, as they furnish a
lively picture of their manners. They initiate them
into the mysteries of their art, and teach them to con¬
trive lascivious dances. These girls, who have a culti¬
vated understanding, are very agreeable in conversa¬
tion. They speak their language with purity. The
habit of dedicating themselves to poetry renders the
softest and most sonorous expressions familiar to them.
They repeat with a great deal of grace. In singing,
nature is their only guide. Sometimes two of them
aing together, but always with the same voice. It is
the same with an orchestra, where all the instruments
playing in unison execute the same part.
I he Alme assist at the marriage ceremonies, and
march before the bride, playing on instruments. They
make a figure likewise at funerals, and accompany the
procession, singing sorrowful airs. They break "forth
into groans and lamentations, and give every sign of
grief and despair. These women are paid very high,
and seldom appear but amongst the grandees and rich
men.
The common people have also their Alme. They
are girls of the second class, who try to imitate the for¬
mer j but they have neither their elegance, their graces,
nor their knowledge. T-hey are everywhere to be met
with. The public places and the walks about Grand
Cairo are full of them. As the populace require allu-
*ions still more strongly marked, decency will not per¬
mit the relation to what a pitch they carry the licenti¬
ousness of their gestures and attitudes.
ALMEDIA, a frontier town of Portugal, in the
province of Tralos Montes, on the confines of Leon,
where there was a very brisk action between the French
and Portuguese in 1663 ; 17 miles north- west of Civi-
dad Rodrigo. W. Long. 7. 20. N. Lat. 40. 31.
ALMEHRAB , in the Mahometan customs, a niche
iu their mosques, pointing towards the kebla or temple
is ]
A L M
of Mecca, to which they are obliged to how in pray- AlwArub
mg. See Kebla.
. ALMEISAR, a celebrated game among the an¬
cient Arabs, performed by a kind of casting of lots with
arrows, strictly forbidden by the law of Mahomet, on
account of the frequent quarrels occa-doued by it.
manner of the game was thus : A young camel
being brought and killed, was divided into a number
of parts. The adventurers, to the number of seven,
being met, 1 r arrows were provided without heads or
feathers ; seven of which were marked, the first with
one notch, the second with two, the third with three,
&c. the other four had no marks. These arrows were
put promiscuously into a bag, and thus drawn by an
indifferent person. Those to whom the marked ar¬
rows fell, won shares in proportion to their lot; the
rest, to whom the blanks fell, were entitled to no part
of the camel, but obliged to pay the whole price of it.
Even the winners tasted not of the flesh themselves
more than the losers, but the whole was distributed to
the poor.
ALMENE, in Commerce, a weight of two pounds,
used to weigh saffron in several parts of the continent
of the East Indies.
ALMERIA, a sea-port town in the kingdom of
Granada in Spain, pleasantly situated on a fine bay at
the mouth of the river Almeria, on the Mediterranean.
W. Long. 2. 35. N. Lat. 36. 51. This town is by
some thought to have risen upon the ruins of the an¬
cient Abdera, and was formerly a place of great con¬
sequence. It was taken from the Moors in 1147, by
the emperor Conrad III. in conjunction with the
Irench, Genoese, and Pisans. It was at that time the
strongest place in Spain held by the Infidels $ from
which their privateers, which were exceedingly nume¬
rous, not only troubled the sea-coasts inhabited by the
Christians, but gave equal disturbance to the maritime
provinces of I ranee, Italy, and the adjacent islands.
I he city being well fortified, having a strong castle,
a numerous garrison, and being excellently provided
with every thing necessary, made a vigorous resistance j
but was at last taken by storm, when the victor put to
the sword ail the inhabitants who were found in arms,
distributing the best part of the plunder among his al¬
lies, whom he sent away thoroughly satisfied. The
Genoese, particularly, acquired here that emerald ves¬
sel which still remains in their treasury, and is deemed
invaluable.
Upon its reduction by the Christians, Almeria be¬
came a bishopric ; but is at present very little better
than a village, indifferently inhabited, and has nothing
to testify so much as the probability of its former great¬
ness, except certain circumstances which cannot be ef¬
faced even by the indolence of the Spaniards themselves.
What these are, Udal ap Rhys, a Welshman, thus
describes, in his Tour through Spain and Portugal.
“ Its climate (says he) is so peculiarly blessed, that
one really wants words to express its charms and excel¬
lence. Its fields and meads are covered with flowers
all the year round } they are adorned also with palms,
myrtles, plane trees, oranges, and olives $ and the moun¬
tains and promontories near it are as noted for their
producing a great variety of precious stones, insomuch
that the next promontory to it is called the Cape of
Gates, which is a corruption from the word agates, the
4X2 hills
15
Altmrisi.
A L M [7
Atweria hills thereabouts abounding in that sort of precious
§ stones, as well as in emeralds and amethysts, garnets
Almohedes. or COarse rubies, and extreme curious alabaster in the
" " * mountains of Filaures.”
ALMIGGIM. See Almuggim.
ALMEYDA, Don Francis, was the son of the
Count d’Abrantes, a grandee of Portugal, who served
with great distinction in the war of Ferdinand of Ca¬
stile with Granada j and in consequence of his import¬
ant services he became highly esteemed in the court
of his sovereign. Without any solicitation on his part
he was nominated the first governor general and vice¬
roy of the newly conquered countries in the East In¬
dies j and set sail from Lisbon in March 1505-6 with
a powerful fleet. To give dignity and influence to
his elevated station, a body of guards was appointed to
attend his person, several chaplains were assigned him,
together with every other appendage of grandeur.
He touched at the Cape Verd islands, doubled the
cape at a considerable distance to the south, and arrived
at Guiloa. From thence he proceeded to Mombaza,
an well fortified city in an island, which he reduced, and
proceeded to the Angediva islands not far from Goa,
where he built a fort j he likewise erected and garri¬
soned another fort at Cannanor, and arriving at Cochin,
he secured it to the Portuguese interest. The island
of Madagascar was discovered during his government,
and his son Don Lorenzo first surveyed the Maidive
islands j and about the same time discovered the fine
island of Ceylon, the principal sovereign of which he
brought under submission to the crown of Portugal.
Returning from this expedition, while employed in the
fleet destined against Calicut, he lost his life in a sea-
fight against the Zamorin. His father sustained his loss
with a heroic firmness, saying, “ that Lorenzo could
not die better than in the service of his country.” On
the arrival of Alphonso d’Albuquerque, who was
destined to be his successor, Ahneyda yielded to the
impressions of jealousy ; and under the pretence of mis¬
conduct he confined him in the citadel of Cannanor.
He engaged in 1508, the whole force of the Mahome¬
tans in the port of Din j and, gaining a complete vic¬
tory, facilitated the enterprises of Albuquerque his
successor, by contributing to break that formidable
league by which the Zamorin was in hopes of being able
to compel the Portuguese to abandon their Indian con¬
quests. Returning home with the great riches which
he had acquired, he unfortunately touched at Saldanha
Point on the coast of Africa, where some of the sailors,
in quest of water, quarrelled with the natives, who at¬
tacked and drove them to their ships. With a view
to revenge this pretended affront, they persuaded Al-
meyda himself to go ashore, with a body of 150 men,
armed only with swords and lances. While stepping
into the boat, Almeyda exclaimed, “ whither do you
carry my 60 years?” The Portuguese furiously rush¬
ed on to attack the natives, whose numbers were great¬
ly augmented, and Almeyda with 57 ®f his men were
killed in this rash and unprovoked attempt. {Gen.
Biog.)
ALMISSA, a small but strong town at the mouth
of the Cetina, in Dalmatia, famous for its piracies j
ten miles east of Spalatro. E. Long. 18. 14. N. Lat.
43. 56.
ALMOHEDES, the name of a dynasty, which,
2
6 ] A L M
in the commencement of the twelfth century, succeed-Almoin
ed that of the Almoravides in Barbary. It derived —y-—'
its name from an obscure founder called A1 Mohedi,
or A1 Mohedes, and it rose into public notice in the
25th year of the reign of A1 Abraham, or Brahem,
who succeeded his father Ali, A. D. 1115. This per¬
son was a Bereber, and was a famous preacher of the
tribe of Muzamada, which was settled along Mount
Atlas. His scheme was the exertion of ingenuity,
and it was executed with unremitting activity. In or¬
der to obtain attention and success, he assumed the
title of Mohdi or Mohedi, and claimed the honour of
leader of the orthodox, or Unitarians, and, by his
preaching they become so numerous, that he even da¬
red to set the royal power at defiance. Confident of
security, and immersed in pleasure, Brahem looked
with a contemptuous eye upon the insurrection of a
party composed of such persons. They increased in
number and strength, so that the king was at last
roused from his indolence, and prepared for his own
security and their subjection. In the first engagement
he was defeated, being overpowered with superior
numbers. The artful Abdallah took possession of the
capital, so that Brahem, pursued as a fugitive by
Abdolmumen, one of the party, sought refuge in
the city of Fez. The gates were shut against him ;
but they were opened to admit his pursuers. He
next took refuge in the city of Auran, or Oran 5
but he was pursued by Abdolmumen, who threatened
to destroy the city with fire and sword j and the ma¬
gistrates, unable to defend themselves, urged him to
leave the town, and provide for his own safety. Con¬
cealed by the darkness of the night, he escaped with
his favourite wife on horseback behind him 5 but being
closely pursued by the enemy, rather than fall into
their hands, he rushed over a precipice, and, along
with his wife, he was dashed to pieces. Such was the
death of this prince, which put a final period to ths
empire of the Almoravides. When the death of Brahem
was known, Abdolmumen was chosen by the chiefs of
that party his successor, and proclaimed king of the Al¬
mohedes, under the title of A1 Emir Al Mumin Ab¬
dallah Mohammed Abdal Mumin Ebn Abdallah Ibni
Ali, i. e. Chief or Emperor of the true Believers of the
house of Mohammed Abdal Mumin, the son of Abdal
Mumin, the son of Abdallah, of the lineage of Ali. Ab¬
dallah, during his reign, enacted prudential laws for the
establishment of his new kingdom, and the regulation
of the conduct of his followers. He appointed a coun¬
cil of forty of his disciples, all of whom were preach¬
ers. Some of these were commissioned to regulate all
public affairs j and at proper seasons they went forth
as itinerant preachers for the purpose of strengthening
their party, and spreading their doctrines, and sixteen
ol their number acted as secretaries. As both the re¬
gal and pontifical dignities were united in the same
pei’son, the king was chosen from both of these two
classes. The disciples of this sect were denominated
Mohameddin, or Ali Mohaddin j but the Arabian
writers only style them preachers, and the Spanish Al-
Mohedes. The descendants and successors of that tribe
continued to retain the appellation of Emir Al Mu-
menin, or chiefs of the faithful believers, as long as
their dynasty lasted $ and they became very powerful
both in Africa and Spain. By their invectives against
A L M [ 717 ]
A L M
4lw«kedes. the tyranny of the Almoravides, and their loud cla-
•—v™~~' mours for liberty, they induced the greater part of the
kingdom to revolt, and to embrace their religious doc¬
trines. The chief thing in them was their specious pre¬
tence to orthodoxy, and strict adherence to the unity of
the Godhead, which they inculcated with the greatest
zeal and diligence.
On his accession to power, the new sovereign extir¬
pated all the unhappy remains and steady adherents of
this race, by strangling Isaac the son of Brahem. The
Almoravides governor taking advantage of the gene¬
ral tumult and distraction that prevailed, constituted
their governments into independent principalities and
petty kingdoms $ and they who inhabited the moun¬
tainous parts, established under their own cheyks a
variety of lordships. The Libyans and Nubians" took
the lead ; and the states of Barbary, Tripoli, Kairwan,
Tunis, Algiers, Tremecen, and Bujeyah, followed
their example. Abdolmumen, however, successfully
pursued his conquests ; and in a few years he reduced
to his subjection the Numidians and Galatians in the
west, and the kingdoms of Tunis, Tremecen, and the
greater part of Mauritania and Tingitana. He expel¬
led the Christians of Mohedia, the chief city of A-
frica, and some others on the same coast j and likewise
made conquests both in Spain and Portugal. He died
in the seventh year of his reign, and was succeeded,
A. D. 1156, by his son Yusef or Joseph. Yusef
proved a valiant and martial prince, and in his milita¬
ry court he first established the kings of Tunis and
Bujeyah in their respective dominions, as his tributa¬
ries and vassals 5 and then by earnest solicitation he
embarked for Spain to assist the Moorish princes. Ya¬
kub or Jacob, or the Conqueror, succeeding him, af¬
ter providing for his own safety against the revolted
and plundering Arabs, pursued his conquests with such
success, that he soon became master of the whole coun¬
try lying between Numidia and the entire length of
the Barbary coasts, from Tripoli to the boundaries of
the kingdom of Morocco. Thus he was acknowledged
as sovereign by most of the Arabian Moorish princes
in his Spanish dominions $ but also extended his terri¬
tory above 1200 leagues in length, and 480 in breadth.
The remaining part of the history of this prince is in¬
volved in obscurity. About the year 1206, he quel¬
led a revolt in Morocco, but violated his faith with the
governor of the capital, which he reduced, and in a
cruel and perfidious manner he extirpated all his ad¬
herents. Touched, it is said, with remorse, he disap¬
peared, and, according to report, wandered about ob¬
scure and unknown, until he died in the humble con¬
dition of a baker at Alexandria. His son Mohammed,
surnamed A1 Naker, succeeded his father 5 and, on his
accession to the crown, he passed over into Spain with
an immense army of 120,coo horse and 300,000 foot,
and engaging the whole force of the Christians on the
plains of Tholosa, received a total defeat, with the loss
of above 150,000 foot, 30,000 horse, and 50,000 pri¬
soners. According to Spanish and other historians,
this famous battle was fought in 617, A. D. 1220 j
but according to the Arabian writers, it was in the
year of the Hegira 609, A. D. 1212. Keturning
home to Africa, he was received with coldness and
disgust by his subjects, on account of his defeat; and
soon after died of vexation, having appointed his grand¬
son Zeyed Arrax his successor. A descendant of the Almoherfes
A.bdolwates, ancient monarchs of the kingdom, named i!
Gamaiazan Lbn Zeyen, of the tribe of the Zeneti, ^
caused lam to be assassinated. With him terminated 1  «/
the dynasty or government of the Almohedes, having
possessed it tor about 170 years, which gave place to
that of the Benimerini, another branch of the Zeneti.
Ihese having enlarged their conquests, and enriched
themselves by frequent inroads, not only into the
neighbouring kingdoms, but even Nubia, Libya, and
Numidia, were at length lost in the general preva¬
lence of Mobamedism, after having existed 117 years.
(Mod. Univ. Hist.')
ALMOND, the fruit of the almond tree. See
Amygdalus, Botany Index.
Almond, in Commerce, a measure by which the Por¬
tuguese sell their oil : 26 almonds make a pipe.
Almonds, in Anatomy, a name sometimes given to
two glands, generally called the tonsils.
Almonds, among lapidaries, signify pieces of rock-
crystal, used in adorning branch-candlesticks, &c. on
account of the resemblance they bear to the fruit of
that name.
Almond Furnace, among refiners, that in which the
slags of litharge, left in refining silver, are reduced to
lead again by the help of charcoal.
ALMOND BURY, a village in England, in the west
riding of Yorkshire, six miles from Halifax.
ALMONER, in its primitive sense, denotes an of¬
ficer in religious houses, to whom belonged the ma¬
nagement and distribution of the alms of the house.
By the ancient canons, all monasteries were to spend
at least a tenth part of their income in alms to the poor.
-The almoner of St Uaul’s is to dispose of the moneys
left for charity, according to the appointment of the do¬
nors, to bury the poor who die in the neighbourhood,
and to breed up eight boys to singing, for the use of
the choir. By an ancient canon, all bishops are requi¬
red to keep almoners.
Lord Almoner, ot Lord High Almoner of Eng,-
land, is an ecclesiastical officer, generally a bishop,
who has the forfeiture of all deodands, and the goods
of felos de se, which he is to distribute among the
poor. He has also, by virtue of an ancient custom,
the power of giving the first dish from the king’s table
to whatever poor person he pleases, or, instead of it, an
alms in money.
Great Almoner, Grand Aumonier, in France, be¬
fore the revolution, was the highest ecclesiastical dignity
in that kingdom. To him belonged the superintendency
of all hospitals and houses of lepers. The king received
the sacrament from his hand 5 and he said mass before
the king in all grand ceremonies and solemnities.
Almoner is also a more fashionable title given by
some writers to chaplains. In this sense we meet with
almoner of a ship, almoner of a regiment.
ALMONRY, or Aumbry, the office or lodging?
of the almoner 5 also the place where alms axe given.
See Ambry.
ALMORAVIDES, in History, the name of an
Arab tribe, who took possession of a district of Africa,
with the pretence of living in retirement, that their
minds might not be distracted from the rigid obser¬
vance of the precepts of the Koran. Hence they assu¬
med the name of Morabites, which was changed by
th®
A L M [ 718 ] A L M
Almnravi- the Spaniards into that of Almoravides. Abuheker
dc>. ben Omar, called by the Spanish authors Abu Texe-
 was the first chief of this tribe. Supported by a
powerful army of malecontents from the provinces of
Numidia and Libya, which was assembled by the in¬
fluence of the Morabites, or Marabouts, he founded
the dynasty of the Almoravides in Barbary, in the
year 1051. Texefien was succeeded by his son Yusef
or Joseph, who, after having reduced to a state of vas¬
salage the kingdoms of Tremecen, Fez, and Tunis,
passed over into Spain during the time of the civil wars,
vigorously repulsed the Christians, and soon saw the
greatest part of the kingdoms of Murcia, Granada, Cor¬
dova, Leon, and some parts of Valencia, subjected to
his power. He then returned into Africa, and left his
newly acquired dominions, with a considerable army,
under the government of his nephew Mohammed. On
his arrival in Africa, with a view to prosecute and ex¬
tend his conquest in Spain, he announced, in a public
declaration, a general ga%ie, or religious war ; assem¬
bled a numerous army, with which he embarked at Ceu*
ta $ and rejoining his nephew in Andalusia, soon laid
waste that province with fire and sword.
In the year 1107, five years afterwards, he under¬
took another invasion, penetrated into the kingdom of
Portugal, and reduced the city of Lisbon, with a con¬
siderable part of the kingd&a*-. At this time he lost
the cities of AtguazTr and Gibraltar, which he had for¬
merly taken. On his return to Barbary, he was de¬
feated at sea. This induced him to propose a truce,
which was agreed to only on condition of his submitting
to become the tributary of the Spanish king. Indignant
at these humiliating terms, Yusef made a vow that he
would never desist in his attempts till he had utterly
rooted out the Christian religion in Spain. He made
preparations accordingly for a fresh invasion, embark¬
ed his army, and landing at Malaga, marched into the
enemy’s country. His progress was rapid $ but his
measures were inconsiderately planned and rashly exe¬
cuted. In the famous battle of the Seven Counts, he
was indeed victorious, but after a terrible slaughter,
and the loss of a great part of his army. This disastrous
victory obliged him to return to Africa •, and he died
soon after at his capital of Morocco. Ali, his son, suc¬
ceeded to the sovereignty in mo. This prince, who
seems to have been of a less warlike disposition than
his father, neglecting his Spanish conquests, turned his
attention to the arts of peace, and erected many sump¬
tuous buildings, and in particular the great mosque of
Morocco. Alphonso, then king of Arragon, retook
from him some considerable cities ; which obliged him
to undertake an expedition to Spain in support of the
Moorish princes. But all his attempts proved unfortu¬
nate ; and in his last enterprise, though powerfully as¬
sisted by the Moorish chiefs, with the loss of 30,000
men he was defeated and slain by Alphonso, in the
sixth year of his reign.
He was succeeded by his son A1 Abraham, who de¬
voted himself entirely to pleasure. His subjects were
harassed and oppressed with heavy taxes, which ex¬
cited discontent and open rebellion. A revolution was
soon effected, and in the 25th year of his reign, the
government transferred from the tribe of the Almora¬
vides to the Almohedes. {Mod. Univ. Hist.)
ALMS, a general term for what is given out of i*
charity to the poor. ||
In the early ages of Christianity, the alms of theA!mHKft*“
charitable were divided into four parts*, one of which ^*"
was allotted to the bishop, another to the priests, and a
third to the deasons and subdeacons, which made their
whole subsistence ; the fourth part was employed in re¬
lieving the poor, and in repairing the churches.
No religious system is more frequent or warm in its
exhortations to almsgiving than the Mahometan. The
Alcoran represents alms as a necessary means to make
prayer be heard. Hence that saying of one of their
caliphs : “ Prayer carries us half way to God, fasting
brings us to the door of his palace, and alms introduces
us into the presence chamber.” Hence many illustri¬
ous examples of this virtue among the Mahometans.
Hasan the son of Ali, and grandson of Mohammed, in
particular, is related to have thrice in his life divided
his substance equally between himself and the poor, and
twice to have given away all he had. And the gene¬
rality are so addicted to the doing of good, that they
extend their charity even to brutes.
Alms, also denotes lands or other effects left to
churches or religious houses, on condition of praying
for the soul of the donor. Hence.
Free Alms, that which is liable to no rent or ser¬
vice.
Reasonable Alms, a certain portion of the estates of
intestate persons, allotted to the poor.
Alms-Box, or Chest, a small chest or coffer, called by
the Greeks Kt/idlm, wherein anciently the alms were
collected, both at church and at private houses.
The alms-chest, in English churches, is a strong box,
with a hole in the upper part, having three keys, one
to be kept by the parson or curate, the other two by
the church wardens. The erecting of such alms-chest
in every church is enjoined by the book of canons, as
also the manner of distributing what is thus collected
among the poor of the parish.
Alms House, a petty kind of hospital for the main¬
tenance of a certain number of poor, aged, or disabled
people.
ALMUCANTARS, in Astronomy, an Arabic word
denoting circles of the sphere passing through the centre
of the sun or a star, parallel to the horizon, being the
same as Parallels of Altitude.
Almucantar's Staff", is an instrument usually made
of pear tree or box, having an arch of 15 degrees; used
to take observations of the sun, about the time of its ri¬
sing and setting, in order to find the amplitude, and
consequently the variation of the compass.
ALMUCIUM denotes a kind of cover for the head,
worn chiefly by monks and ecclesiastics. It was of a
square form, and seems to have given rise to the bon¬
nets of the same shape still retained in universities and
cathedrals.
ALMUGGIM, Almiggim, or Almug Tree, a
certain kind of wood mentioned in the first book of
Kings (x. II.), which the Vulgate translates ligna
thyina, and the Septuagint wrought wood. The Rab¬
bins generally render it coral; others, ebony, brazil,
•or pine. But it is observed, that the almug tree can
by no means be coral, because that is not fit for
the purposes that the Scripture tells us the almug tree
wa«
A L N [7
iiniigS‘,n wa3 use£^’ suc^ as rnus‘cal instruments, staircases, Sec.
D The word thyinum is a name for the citron tree, known
Unwick, to the ancients, and very much esteemed for its sweet
’ 7 odour and great beauty. It came from Mauritania.
The almug tree, or almuggim, algumim, or simply gum-
mim, taking al ior a kind of article, is therefore by the
best commentators understood to be an oily and gummy
sort ot wood ; and particularly that sort of tree which
produces the gum ammoniac, which is also thought to
be the same with the Shittim wood, whereof there is
such frequent mention made by Moses.
ALMUNECAR, a sea-port town in the kingdom
of Granada, seated on the Mediterranean, with a good
harbour, defended by a strong castle, 20 miles south of
Albania. W. Long. 3. 55. N. Lat. 36. 50.
ALNAGE, or Aulnage, the measuring of wool¬
len manufactures with an ell. It was at first intended
as a proof of the goodness of that commodity j and ac¬
cordingly a seal was invented as a mark that the com¬
modity was made according to the statute j but, it be¬
ing now possible to purchase these seals, they are affix¬
ed, whenever the vender pleases, to all cloths indiscri¬
minately, to the great prejudice of our woollen manu¬
factures.
ALNAGER, Alneger, or Aulkeger, q. d. mea¬
surer by the ell, signifies a sworn public officer, who, by
himself or deputy, is to look to the assize of woollen
cloth made throughout the land, i. e. the length,
width, and work thereof; and to the seals for that
purpose ordained. . The office of king’s alnager seems
to have been derived from the statute of Richard I.
A. D. 1197, which ordained that there should be only
one weight and one measure throughout the kingdom ;
and that the custody of the assize, or standard of weights
and measures, should be committed to certain persons
in every city and borough. His business was, for a cer¬
tain fee, so measure all cloths made for sale, till the
office was abolished by the statute II and 12 W. III.
cap. 20.
ALNUS, the Alder Tree. See Betula, Bo¬
tany Index.
Alnus, in the ancient theatres, that part which was
most distant from the stage.
ALNWICK, a thoroughfare town in Northum¬
berland, on the road to Scotland. Here Malcolm,
king of Scotland, making an inroad into Northumber¬
land, was killed, with Edward his son, and his army
defeated, by Robert Moubray, earl of this county, anno
1092. Eikewise William, king of Scotland, in 1174,
invading England with an army of 80,000 men, was
here encountered, his army routed, and himself made
prisoner. The town is populous, and in general well
built j it has a large town-house, where the quarter-
sessions and county-courts are held, and members of
parliament elected. It has a spacious square, in which
a maiket is held every Saturday. Alnwick appears
to have been formerly fortified, by the vestiges of a
wall still visible in many parts, and three gates which
remain almost entire. It is governed by four cham¬
berlains, who are chosen once in two years out of a
common council, consisting of 24 members. It is or¬
namented by a stately old Gothic castle, which has
been the seat of the noble family of Percy, earls of
Northumberland. As the audits for receipt of rents
have ever been in the castle, it has always been kept
19 ] A L O
in tolerable repair; and not many years ago it was Alnwick
repaired and beautified by the duke of Northumber- }}
land, who made very considerable alterations, upon Aloof,
a most elegant plan, with a view to reside in it some 111 v
part of the summer season. The manner of making
fieemen is peculiar to this place, and indeed is as ridi¬
culous as singular. The persons who are to be made
free, or, as the phrase is, leap the well, assemble in
the market-place, very early in the morning, on the
25th of April, being St Mark’s day. They appear
on horseback, with every man his sword by his side,
dressed in white, and with white nightcaps, attended
by the four chamberlains and the castle bailiff, mount¬
ed and armed in the same manner j from hence they
proceed, with music playing before them, to a large
dirty pool, called Freeman''s-well, where they dis¬
mount, and draw up in a body, at some distance from
the water; and then rush into it all at once, and
scramble through the mud as fast as they can. As the
water is generally very foul, they come out in a dirty
condition ; but taking a dram, they put on dry clothes,
remount their horses, and ride full gallop round the
confines of the district ; then re-enter the town, sword
in hand, and are met by women dressed in ribbons
with bells and garlands, dancing and singing. These
are called timber-wasts. The houses of the new free¬
men are on this day distinguished by a great holly
bush, as a signal for their friends to assemble and make
merry with them after their return. This ceremony
is owing to King John, who was mired in this well,
and who, as a punishment for not mending the road,
made this a part of their charter. Alnwick is 310
miles north-by-west from London, 33 north of New¬
castle, and 29 south of Berwick. Long. 1. 10. Lat.
55. 24. Its population in 1811 was 5426.
ALOA, in Grecian antiquity, a festival kept in ho¬
nour of Ceres by the husbandmen, and supposed to re¬
semble our harvest-home.
ALOE, in Botany. See Botany Index.
American Aloe. See Agave, Botany Index.
ALOGIANS, in Church History, a sect of ancient
heretics, who denied that Jesus Christ was the Logos,
and consequently rejected the gospel of St John. The
word is compounded of the privative « and Xoy»f, q. d.
If ithout Logos or Word. Some ascribe the origin of
the name, as well as of the sect of Alogians, to Theo¬
dore of Byzantium, by trade a currier ; who having
apostatized under the persecution of the emperor Seve-
rus, to defend himself against those who reproached
him therewith, said, that it was not God he denied,
but only man. Whence his followers were called in
Greek uXtyot, because they rejected the Word. But
others, with more probability, suppose the name to
have been first given them by Epiphanius in the way of
reproach. They made their appearance toward the
close of the second century.
ALOGO I ROPHIA, among physicians, a term sig¬
nifying the unequal growth or nourishment of any part
of the body, as in the rickets.
ALOOF, has frequently been mentioned as a sea-
term : but whether justly or not, we shall not presume
to determine. It is known in common discourse to im¬
ply at a distance; and the resemblance of the phrases
keep aloof, and keep a luff, or keep the luff, in all proba¬
bility gave rise to the conjecture. If it was really a
ALP [ 720 ] ALP
*ioof sea-phrase originally, it seems to have referred to the
1! dangers of a lee-shore, in which situation the pilot
Alp Arslan. naturally apply it in the sense commonly under-
stood, viz. keep all off, or quite off: it is, however, ne¬
ver expressed in that manner by seamen now. See
Luff. It may not he improper to observe, that be¬
sides using this phrase in the same sense with us, the
French also call the weather-side of a ship, and the
weather-clue of a course, le lof.
ALOPECE, Alopecia, in Ancient Geography, an
island placed by Ptolemy at the mouth of the Tanais,
and called the island Tanais, now Plsle ties Renards.
(Baudrand). Also an island of the Bosphorus Cim-
nierius (Pliny) $ and another in the iEgean sea, over
against Smyrna.
ALOPECIA, a term used among physicians to de¬
note a total falling off of the hair from certain parts,
occasioned either by the defect of nutritious juice, or
by its vicious quality corroding the roots of it, and leav¬
ing the skin rough and colourless.
The word is formed from aXa/Tml;, wipes, “ a fox
whose urine, it is said, will occasion baldness, or be¬
cause it is a disease which is common to that creature.
It is directed to wash the head every night at going to
bed with a ley prepared by boiling the ashes of vine
branches in red wine. A powder made by reducing
hermodactyls to fine flour is also recommended for the
same purpose.
In cases where the baldness is total, a quantity of
the finest burdock roots are to be bruised in a marble
mortar, and then boiled in white wine until there re¬
mains only as much as will cover them. This liquor,
carefully strained off, is said to cure baldness, by wash¬
ing the head every night with some of it warm. A
ley made by boiling ashes of vine branches in common
water is also recommended with this intention. A
fresh cut onion, rubbed on the part until it be red and
itch, is likewise said to cure baldness.
A multitude of such remedies are everywhere to be
found in the works of Valescus de Taranta, Rondele-
tius, Hallerius, Trincavellius, Celsus, Senertay, and
other practical physicians.
ALOPECURUS, or Foxtail-grass. See Bo¬
tany Index.
ALOPEX, in Zoology, a species of the canis, with
a straight tail and black tip. It is commonly called the
fieldfox.
ALOSA, the shad, or mother of herrings, a species
of the clupea. See Clupea, Ichthyology Index.
ALOST, a town in Handers, and in the kingdom
of the Netherlands, situated on the river Dender, in the
midway between Brussels and Ghent. Here was for¬
merly a convent ot Carmelites, another of Capuchines,
another of barefooted Carmelites, three nunneries, an
hospital, and a convent of Guillemins, in which is the
tomb of Iheodore Martin, who brought the art of
printing out of Germany into the Low Countries. Alost
was taken and dismantled by Marshal Turenne in 1667 j
and after the battle of Ramillies in 1706, was abandon¬
ed to the allies, ffhe population by the last census
amounted to 10,926, a great proportion of whom trade
in corn and hops, or are engaged in brewing. E. Long.
3. 56. N. Lat. 49. 55.
ALP ARSLAN, the second sultan of the dynasty
ef Seljuk in Persia, was the son of David, and great
grandson of Seljuk the founder of the dynasty. He Alp I M
was born in the year 1030, of the Hegira 421. In ' „ J
place of Israel, which was his original name, he assu¬
med that of Mohammed, when he embraced the Mus¬
sulman faith, and he obtained the surname Alp Ars¬
lan, which in the Turkish language signifies a valiant
lion, on account of his military prowess. Having held
the chief command in Khorasan for ten years as lieu¬
tenant of his uncle Togrul Beg, he succeeded him in
the year 1063, and at the commencement of his reign
saw himself sole monarch of Persia, from the river Amu
to the Tigris. When he assumed the reins of govern¬
ment, faction and open rebellion prevailed in his domi¬
nions, in subduing of which he was ably assisted by
Nadham al Molk his visir, one of the most distinguish¬
ed characters of his time, whose prudence and integrity
in the administration of the affairs of the kingdom pro¬
ved of most essential service to this prince and to his
successor. Peace and security being established in his
dominions, he convoked an assembly of the states 5 and
having declared his son Malek Shaw his heir and sue-
cessor, seated him on a throne of gold, and exacted an
oath of fidelity to him from the principal officers of the
empire. With the hope of acquiring immense booty in
the rich temple of St Basil in Caesarea, the capital of
Cappadocia, he placed himself at the head of the Turk¬
ish cavalry, crossed the Euphrates, and entered and plun¬
dered that city. He then marched into Armenia and
Georgia, which in the year 1065 he finally conquered.
In the former country, the very name of a kingdom
and the spirit of a nation were totally extinguished.
But the native Georgians, who had retired to the
woods and valleys of Mount Caucasus, made a more vi¬
gorous resisistance. They too, however, overpowered
by the arms of the sultan and his son Malek, were for¬
ced to submission, and reduced to slavery. To punish
them for the brave defence which they had made, and
as a badge of their humiliating condition, Alp Arslan
obliged them to wear at their ears horse shoes of iron.
Some, to escape this mark of cruelty and ignominy,
professed to embrace the religion of Mahomet.
In the year 1068 Alp Arslan invaded the Roman
empire, the seat of which was then at Constantinople.
Eudocia, the reigning empress, saw and dreaded the
progress of his arms. To avert the threatened dan¬
ger, she married Romanus Diogenes, a brave soldier,
who was accordingly associated with her in the go¬
vernment, and raised to the imperial dignity. The
new emperor, during the exhausted state of their re¬
sources, sustained the Roman power with surprising va¬
lour and invincible courage. His spirit and success
animated his soldiers in the field to act with fortitude
and firmness, inspired his subjects with hope, and struck
terror in his enemies. In three severe campaigns his
arms cvere victorious 5 and the Turks were forced to
retreat beyond the Euphrates. In the fourth he ad¬
vanced with an armv of 100,000 men into the Arme¬
nian territory for the relief of that country. Here be
was met by Alp Arslan with 40,000 cavalry, or ac¬
cording to some authors, a much smaller number j and
the sultan having proposed terms of peace, which were
insultingly rejected by the emperor, a bloody and de¬
cisive engagement took place. Alp Arslan, it is said,
when he saw that a battle was inevitable, wept at the
thought that so many of his faithful followers must fall
ViCT-r’
ALP
irslan. tne struggle ; and after offering up a devout prayer,
‘-—v ' granted free permission to all who chose it to retire
from the field. Then with his own hand he tied up
his horse s tail, exchanged his bow and arrows for a
mace and scymitar, and robing himself in a white gar¬
ment periumed with musk, resolved to perish on the
spot unless he came off victorious. The skilful move¬
ments of the I urkish cavalry soon made an impression
on the superior numbers of the Greeks, who were
thrown into great disorder, and after a terrible slaugh¬
ter, rvere totally routed. Romanus, deserted by the
main body of his army, with unshaken courage kept
bis station, till he was recognised by a slave, taken pri¬
soner, and conducted into the presence of Alp Ars¬
lan. In the I urkish divan, the captive emperor was
commanded to kiss the ground as a degrading mark of
submission to the power and authority of the sultan,
who, it is said, leapt from his throne and set his foot
on his neck. But this is scarcely probable or consis¬
tent with the generous and respectful treatment which
he otherwise experienced. For the sultan instantly
raised him from the ground, embraced him tenderly,
and assured him that his life and dignity should remain
inviolate under the protection of a prince who had not
forgotten the respect due to the majesty of his equals,
and the vicissitudes of fortune. When the terms of
his ransom were about to be settled, Romanus was ask¬
ed by Alp Arslan what treatment he expected to re¬
ceive. To this question the emperor, with seeming in-
^ difference, replied, “ If you are cruel, you will take
my life j if you follow the dictates of pride, you will
drag me at your chariot wheels: if you consult your
interest, you will accept a ransom, and restore me to
my country.” “ But what,” says the sultan, “ would
you have done in such circumstances ?” “ Had I been
victorious,” said the insolent Romanus, <t I would have
inflicted on thy body many a stripe.” The conqueror
smiled at the fierce and unsubdued spirt of his captive;
observed that the Christian precepts strongly inculca¬
ted the love of enemies and the forgiveness of injuriesj
and, with a noble greatness of mind, declared that he
would never imitate an example which he disapproved.
A ransom of a million, an annual tribute of 3000 pieces
of gold, an intermarriage between the families, and
the deliverance of all the captive Mussulmans in the
power of the Greeks, were at last agreed to as the
terms of peace and the liberty of the emperor. Ro¬
manus was now dismissed loaded with presents, and re¬
spectfully attended by a military guard. But the dis¬
tracted state of his dominions, the consequence of a re¬
volt of his subjects, precluded him from fulfilling the
terms of the treaty, and remitting the stipulated price
of his ransom. The sultan seemed disposed to favour
and support the declining fortunes of his ally 5 but the
defeat, imprisonment, and death of Romanus interrupt¬
ed the accomplishment of his generous, or rather am¬
bitious, design. .
At this time the dominion of Alp Arslan extended
over the fairest part of Asia ; 1200 princes, or sons of
princes, surrounded his throne ; and 200,000 soldiers
were ready to execute his commands. He now medi¬
tated a greater enterprise, and declared his purpose of
attempting the conquest of Turkestan, the original seat
of his ancestors. After great preparations for the ex¬
pedition, he marched with a powerful armv, and arrived
Vol. I. Part II. ' f
[ 721 ]
A L P
at the banks of the Oxus. Before he could pass the ri-Alp Arslan
vei with safety, it was necessary to gain possession of Al, ha.
some fortresses in its vicinity ; one of which was for v 
several days vigorously defended by the governor, Jo¬
seph Cothual, a Carizmian. He was, however, obli¬
gee to surrender, and was carried a prisoner before the
sultan, who, being enraged at his obstinacy and pre¬
sumption, addressed him in very reproachful terms.
Joseph replied with so much spirit, that he roused the
resentment of Alp Arslan, and was commanded in¬
stantly to be fastened by the hands and feet to four
stakes, to suffer a painful and cruel death. Joseph, on
hearing this sentence, became furious and desperate :
and drawing a dagger which he had concealed in his
boots, rushed towards the throne to stab the sultan;
the guards raised their battle-axes, and moved forward
to defend their sovereign; but Alp Arslan, the most
expert archer of his age, checking their zeal, forbade
them to advance, and drew his bow : his foot slipped,
and the arrow missed Joseph, who rushed forward, and
plunging his dagger in the breast of the sultan, was
himself instantly cut in pieces. The wound proved
mortal, and the sultan expired in a few hours after he
received it, in the year 1072. When he found his
end approaching, he addressed himself in these words
to his attendants ; “In my youth,” said he, “I was
advised by a wise man to humble myself before God,
never to confide in my own strength, or to despise the
most contemptible enemy. These lessons I have ne¬
glected, for which I have now met deserved punish¬
ment. Testerday, when I. beheld from an eminence
the number and discipline of my troops, I said in the
confidence of my heart, ‘ What power on earth can
oppose me ? what man dares to attack me ?’ To day,
vainly trusting to my own strength and dexterity, I
foolishly checked the prompt zeal and alacrity of my
guards for my safety, and now I have fallen by the
hand of an assassin ? But I perceive that no force or
address can resist fate.” He died in the 10th year of
his reign, at the age of 44. He was buried at Maru,
one of the four cities of Khorasan, the tomb of the
Seljukian dynasty. On his tomb was inscribed the fol¬
lowing epitaph ; “ All you who have beheld the gran¬
deur of Alp Arslan exalted to the heavens, come to
Maru, and you will see it buried in the dust.”
Ibis prince was distinguished tor his valour, libera-
lity, piety. He 'was patient, just, and sincere.
His stature, aspect, and voice, commanded the respect
of all who approached him. He had long whiskers,
and usually wore a high turban in the form of a crown.
He was succeeded by his son Malek Shah, who had
been proclaimed and acknowledged sultan of the Turks
during bis life. (Mod. Univ. Hist. Gibbon's Hist.)
ALPHA, the name of the first letter of the Greek
alphabet, answering to our A. As a numeral, it stands
for one, or the first of any thing. It is particularly
used, among ancient writers, to denote the chief or
first man of bis class or rank. In this sense, the word
stands contradistinguished from beta, which denotes
the second person. Plato was called the Alpha of the
wits : Eratosthenes, keeper of the Alexandrian library,
whom some called a Second Plato, is frequently named
Beta.
Alpha is also used to denote the beginning of any
thing. In which sense it stands opposed to omega,
4 Y which
ALP [ 72
Hlp’ia which denotes the end. And these two letters were
Alphabet, made the symbol of Christianity; and accordingly were
——y--—1 engraven on the tombs of the ancient Christians, to di¬
stinguish them from those of idolaters. Moralez, a
Spanish writer, imagined that this custom only com¬
menced since the rise of Arianism ; and that it was pe¬
culiar to the orthodox, who hereby made confession of
the eternity of Christ: but there are tombs prior to the
age of Constantine whereon the two letters were found,
besides that the emperor just mentioned bore them on
bis labarum before Arius appeared.
ALPHABET, the natural or customary series of
the several letters of a language (see Language and
Writing). The word is formed from alpha and beta,
the first and second letters of the Greek alphabet. The
number of letters is different in the alphabets of difl'er-
ent languages. The English alphabet contains 24 let¬
ters ; to which if we add^* and v consonant, the sum
will be 26 : the French contains 23 ; the Hebrew,
Chaldee, Syriac, and Samaritan, 22 each j the Arabic
28 ; the Persian 31 •, the Turkish 33 j the Georgian
365 the Coptic 32; the Muscovite 43 ; the Greek 24 j
the Latin 22 j the Sclavonic 27-, the Dutch 265 the
Spanish 27 ; the Italian 20 $ the Ethiopic and Tarta¬
rian, each 202 j the Indians of Bengal 21 j the Bara-
mese 19. The Chinese have, properly speaking, no
alphabet, except we call their whole language by that
name ; their letters are words, or rather hieroglyphics,
amounting to about 80,000.
It has been a matter of considerable dispute whether
the method of expressing our ideas by visible symbols
called letters be really a human invention ; or whether
we ought to attribute an art so exceedingly useful to
an immediate revelation from the Deity.—In favour of
the latter opinion it has been urged,
kirguments i. The five books of Moses are universally acknow-
ie? writing ]e(lge<i t0 the most ancient compositions, as well as
■ " the most early specimens of alphabetical writing' we
lation. have. It, therefore, we suppose writing to be the re¬
sult of human ingenuity, it must be different from all
other arts, having been brought to perfection at once;
as it seems impossible to make any real improvement
on the Hebrew al|habet. It may indeed be replied,
that alphabetical characters perhaps have existed many
ages before the writings of Moses, though the more
ancient specimens have perished. This, however, be¬
ing a mere unsupported assertion, without any histori¬
cal testimony to corroborate it, cannot be admitted as
a proof. Again, Setting aside the evidence to be de¬
rived from Scripture on this subject, the simplicity of
manners predominant in the early ages, the small ex¬
tent of the intellectual powers of mankind, and the
little intercourse which nations had with one another,
which would seem more particularly to render writing
necessary, can scarcely allow us to suppose that such a
complex and curious contrivance as alphabetical writing
could be invented by a race ol men whose wants were
so few, their advantages so circumscribed, and their
ideas so limited.
2. If alphabetical writing were a mere human in¬
vention, it might be expected that different nations
would have fallen upon the same expedient independent
of each other during the compass of so many ages.
But no such thing has taken place ; and the writing of
■every people on earth may be referred to one common
2 ] ALP
original. If this can be proved, the argument from Alphabet,
successive derivation, without a single instance of hide-
pendent discovery, must be allowed to amount to the
very highest degree of probability in favour of our hy¬
pothesis, which will now rest on the evidence for or
against this fact; and which may be summed up in the
following manner.
Among the European nations we find none who can
pretend any right to the discovery of letters. All of
them derived the art from the Romans, excepting only
the Turks, who had it from the Arabians. The Ro¬
mans never laid claim to the discovery ; but confessed
that they derived their knowledge from the Greeks,
and the latter owned that they had it from the Phoeni¬
cians ; who, as wrell as their colonists the Carthagini¬
ans, spoke a dialect of the Hebrew scarcely varying
from the original. The Coptic, or Egyptian, resembles
the Greek in most of its characters, and is therefore to
be referred to the same original. The Chaldee, Sy¬
riac, and latter Samaritan, are dialects of the Hebrew,
W'ithout any considerable deviation, or many additional
words. The Ethiopic differs more from the Hebrew,
but less than the Arabic; yet these languages have all
issued from the same stock, as the similarity of their
formation, and the numberless words common to them,
all sufficiently evince : and the Persic is very nearly
allied to the Arabic. Alterations indeed would natu¬
rally be produced, in proportion to the civilization of
the several nations, and their intercourse with others ;
which will account for the superior copiousness of some
above the rest. It appears then, that all the languages
in use amongst men that have been conveyed in al¬
phabetical characters, have been the languages of
people connected ultimately or immediately with the
Hebrews, who have handed down the earliest speci¬
mens of writing to posterity : and wTe have therefore
the greatest reason to believe, that their method of
writing, as w'ell as their language, was derived from
the same source.
This proposition will be farther confirmed from con¬
sidering the sameness of the artificial denominations
ot the letters in the Oriental, Greek, and Latin lan¬
guages, accompanied also by a similar arrangement,
as alpha, beta, &c. It may still be objected, how¬
ever, that the characters employed by the ancients to
discriminate their letters are entirely dissimilar. Why
should not one nation, it may be urged, adopt from the
other the mode of expressing the art as well as the art
itself? To what purpose did they take the trouble of
inventing other characters ? To this objection it may
be replied, 1. From the instance of our own language,
w’e know what diversities may be introduced in this
respect merely by length of time and an intercourse
with neighbouring nations. And such an effect would
. be more likely to take place before the art of printing
had contributed to establish an uniformity of character:
For when every work was transcribed by the hand,
we may easily imagine how many variations would a-
rise from the fancy of the scribe, and the mode of
writing so constantly different in individuals. 2. This
diversity might sometimes arise from vanitv. When
an individual of another community had become ac¬
quainted with this wonderful art, he might endeavour
to recommend himself as the inventbr; and, to avoid
detection, might invent other characters. 3. The cha¬
racters
ALP
A.lpliabet. racters of the alphabet might sometimes be accommo-
 *  dated as much as possible to the symbolical marks al¬
ready in use amongst a particular people. These hav¬
ing acquired a high degree of sanctity by the use of
many generations, would net easily be superseded with¬
out the aid of some such contrivance. 4. This is sup¬
ported by the testimony of Herodotus j who informs
us, “ that those Phoenicians who came with Cadmus
introduced many improvements among the Greeks,
and alphabetical writing too, not known among them
before that period. At first they used the Phoenician
character; but in process of time, as the pronounciation
altered, the standard of the letters was also changed.
The Ionian Greeks inhabited at the time the parts
adjacent to Phoenicia : who having received the art of
alphabetical writing from the Phoenicians, used it, with
an alteration of some few characters, and confessed
ingenuously, that it was called Phoenician from the in¬
troducers of it.” He tells us that he had himself seen
the characters of Cadmus in the temple of Ismenian
Apollo at Thebes in Boeotia, engraven upon tripods,
and very much resembling the Ionian characters.
5. The old Samaritan is precisely the same as the He¬
brew language: and the Samaritan Pentateuch does
not vary by a single letter in twenty words from the
Hebrew : but the characters are widely different: for
the Jews adopted the Chaldaic letters during their cap¬
tivity at Babylon instead of the characters of their fore¬
fathers.
3. What we know of those nations who have con¬
tinued for many centuries unconnected with the rest of
the world, strongly militates against the hypothesis of
the human invention of alphabetical writing. The ex¬
periment has been fairly made upon the ingenuity of
mankind for a longer period than that which is sup¬
posed to have produced alphabetical writing by regu¬
lar gradations; and this experiment determines pe¬
remptorily in their favour. The Chinese, a people fa¬
mous for their discoveries and mechanical turn of ge¬
nius, have made some advances towards the delineation
of their ideas by arbitrary signs, but have nevertheless
been unable to accomplish this exquisite device; and
after so long a trial to no purpose, we may reasonably
infer, that their mode of writing, which is growing
more intricate and voluminous every day, would never
terminate in so clear, so comparatively simple, an ex¬
pedient as that of alphabetical characters. The Mexi¬
cans, too, had made some rude attempts of the same
kind ; but with less success than the Chinese. We
know also, that hieroglyphics were in use among the
Egyptians posterior to the practice of alphabetical writ¬
ing by the Jews; but whether the epistolography, as it
is called, of the former people, which was in vogue du¬
ring the continuance of the hieroglyphics, might not
possibly be another name for alphabetical writing, can¬
not be decided.
4. We shall consider the argument on which the
commonly received supposition entirely depends: that
is, the natural gradation, through the several species of
symbols acknowledged to have been in use with various
people, terminating at last, by an easy transition, in the
detection of alphabetical characters. The strength of
this argument will be best understood from the follow¬
ing representation.
“ i. The first method of embodying ideas would
[ 723 ]
ALP
be by drawing a representation of the objects them- Alphabet.
selves. J he imperfection of this method is very obvi- v <
ous, both ot) account of its tediousness and its inability
of going beyond external appearances to the abstract
ideas of the mind.
“ 2. Ihe next method would be somewhat more ge¬
neral, and would substitute two or three principal cir¬
cumstances for the whole transaction. So two kings,
for example, engaging each other with military wea¬
pons, might serve to convey the idea of a war between
the two nations. 'Ibis abbreviated method would be
more expeditious than the former ; but what it gained
in conciseness would be lost in perspicuity. It is a de¬
scription more compendious indeed, but still a descrip¬
tion of outward objects alone, by drawing their resem¬
blance. To this head may be referred the picture¬
writing of the Mexicans.
“ 3* next advance would be to the use of sym¬
bols : the incorporation, as it were, of abstract and
complex ideas in figures more or less generalized, in
proportion to the improvement of it. Thus, in the
earlier stages of this device, a circle might serve to ex¬
press the sun, a semicircle the moon ; which is only a
contraction of the foregoing method. This symbol
writing in its advanced state would become more re¬
fined, but enigmatical and mysterious in proportion to
its refinement. Hence it would become less fit for com¬
mon use, and therefore more particularly appropriated
to the mysteries of philosophy and religion. Thus, two
feet standing upon water served to express an impos¬
sibility ; a serpent denoted the oblique trajectories of
the heavenly bodies: and the beetle, on account of
some supposed properties of that insect, served to repre¬
sent the sun. The Egyptian hieroglyphics were of this
kind.
“ 4. This method being still too subtle and com¬
plicated for common use, the only plan to be pursued
was a reduction of the first stage of the preceding me¬
thod. Thus a dot, instead of a circle, might stand for
the sun ; and a similar abbreviation might be extend¬
ed to all the symbols. On this scheme every object
and idea would have its appropriated mark: these
marks, therefore, would have a multiplicity propor¬
tionable to the works of nature and the operations of
the mind. This method was likewise practised by
the Egyptians ; but has been carried to a greater per¬
fection by the Chinese. The vocabulary of the latter
is therefore infinite, or at least capable of being ex¬
tended to any imaginable length. But if we compare
this tedious and awkward contrivance with the astonish*
ing brevity and perspicuity of alphabetical writing,
we must be persuaded that no two things can be more
dissimilar ; and that the transition from a scheme con¬
stantly enlarging itself, and growing daily more intri¬
cate, to the expression of every possible idea by the
modified arrangement of four-and-twenty marks, is not
so very easy and perceptible as some have imagined.
Indeed this seems still to be rather an expression of
things in a manner similar to the second stage of sym¬
bol writing than the notification of ideas by arbitrary
signs.”
To all this we shall subjoin the following remarks, AddiboaxI
which seem to give additional force to the foregoing remarks in.
reasoning. tio'nofthe
“ 2. Pliny asserts the use of letters to have been eter- argU(n#Rtfc
4 Y 2 nal j
ALP [ 7H ] ALP
Alphabet. nal j which shows the antiquity of the practice to ex-
*——v—tend beyond the era of authentic history.
“ 2. The cabalistical doctors of the Jevrs maintain,
that alphabetical writing was one of the ten things
which God created on the evening of the Sabbath.
“ 3. Most of the profane authors of antiquity ascribe
the first use of alphabetical characters to the Egyptians,
who, according to some, received them from Mercury $
and, according to others, from their god Tenth.
“ 4. There is very little reason to suppose that even
language itself is the effect of human ingenuity and in¬
vention.”
Answers to Thus we have stated the arguments in favour of the
the abore revelation of alphabetical writing j which are answered,
arguments. |jy those who take the contrary side, in the following
manner.
1. Moses nowhere says that the alphabet was a new
thing in his time j nor does he give the least hint of
his being the inventor of it. The first mention we
find of writing is in the 17th chapter of Exodus $
where Moses is commanded to write in a book ; and
which took place before the arrival of the Israelites at
Sinai. This shows that writing did not commence
with the delivery of the two tables of the law, as some
have supposed. Neither are we to conclude that the
invention had taken place only a short time before 5
for the writing in a book is commanded as a thing com¬
monly understood, and with which Moses was well
acquainted. It is plain, from the command to engrave
the names of the twelve tribes of Israel upon stones
like the engravings of a signet, that writing had been
known and practised among them, as well as other
nations, long before. We must also remember, that
the people were commanded to write the lawr on their
door posts, &c. so that the art seems not only to have
been known, but universally practised among them.
But had writing been a new discovery in the time of
Moses, he would probably have commemorated it as
well as the other inventions of music, &c. : Nor is
there any reason to suppose that God was the immediate
revealer of the art; for Moses would never have omit¬
ted to record a circumstance of such importance, as the
memory of it would have been one of the strongest bar¬
riers against idolatry.
Again, Though several profane writers attribute the
origin of letters to the gods, or to some divine person,
yet this is no proof of its being actually revealed ; but
only that the original inventor was unknown. The
learned bishop of Gloucester observes, that the ancients
gave nothing to the gods of whose original they had
any records j but where the memory of the invention
was lost, as of seed-corn, wine, writing, civil society,
cic. the gods seized the property, by that kind of right
which gives strays to the lord of the manor.
As neither the sacred nor profane historians, there¬
fore, have determined any thing concerning the inven¬
tion of letters, we are at liberty to form what conjec¬
tures we think most plausible concerning the origin of
them $ and this, it is thought, might have taken place
m the following manner.
“ Men» in their rude uncultivated state, would
have neither leisure, inclination, nor inducement, to
cultivate the powers of the mind to a degree sufficient
for the formation of an alphabet • but when a people
arrived at such a pitch of civilization as required them
2
to represent the conceptions of the mind, which have ., , .
no corporeal forms, necessity would occasion further ex- *,
ertions, and urge them to find out a more expeditious
manner of transacting their business than by picture¬
writing.
“ 2. These exertions would take place whenever a
nation began to improve in arts, manufactures, and com¬
merce j and the greater genius such a nation had, the
more improvements wrould be made in the notation of
their language; whilst those people who had made less
progress in civilization and science, would have a less
perfect system of elementary characters ; and perhaps
advance no farther for many ages than the marks or
characters of the Chinese. Hence we may see, that the
business of princes, as well as the manufactures and com¬
merce of each country, would produce the necessity of
devising some expeditious manner of communicating in¬
formation to one another.”
The art of writing, however, is of so great anti¬
quity, and the early history of most nations so full of
fable, that it must be extremely difficult to determine
what nation or people may justly claim the honour of
the invention. But as it is probable that letters were
the produce of a certain degree of civilization among
mankind, we must therefore have recourse to the histo¬
ry of those nations who seem to have been first civi¬
lized.
The Egyptians have an undoubted title to a very Claim of
early civilization; and many learned men have attri-f]16 Egyp-
buted the invention of letters to them. The late bishop ®
of Gloucester contends, that Egypt was the parent of0f ]€ttWv
all the learning of Greece, and was resorted to by all
the Grecian legislators, naturalists, and philosophers; and
endeavours to prove that it was one of the first civilized
countries on the globe. Their writing was of four
kinds: 1. Hieroglyphic; 2. Symbolic; 3. Epistolic ;
and, 4. Hierogrammatic. In the most early ages they
wrote, like all other infant nations, by pictures; of
which some traces yet remain among the hieroglyphics
of Horapollo, who informs us, that they represented a
fuller by a man’s two feet in water; fire, by smoke
ascending, &c. But to render this rude invention less
incommodious, they soon devised the method of putting
one thing of similar qualities for another.
The former was called the curiologic, the latter the
fro/nco/hieroglyphic; which last was a gradual improve¬
ment on the former. These alterations in the man¬
ner of delineating hieroglyphic figures produced and
perfected another character, called the running-hand of
the hieroglyphics, resembling the Chinese writing; which
having been first formed by the outlines of each figure,
became at length a kind of marks ; the natural effects
of which were, that the constant use of them would
take off the attention from the symbol and fix it on
the thing signified. Thus the study of symbolic writ¬
ing would be much abbreviated ; because the writer
or decypherer would have then little to do but to re¬
member the power of the symbolic mark ; whereas be¬
fore, the properties of the thing or animal delineated
were to be learned. This, together with the other
marks by institution, to denote mental conceptions,
would reduce the characters to a similar state with the
present Chinese ; and these were properly what the an¬
cients called hieroglyphica/. We are informed by Dr
Bobert Huntingdon, in his account of the Porphyry
pillars.
Letters not
invented in
Kjypt.
ALP [ 725
Alphabet, pillars, that there are some ancient monuments of this
L^-> kind yet remaining in Egypt.
f he sacred book or ritual of the Egyptians, accord¬
ing to Apuleius, was written partly in symbolic, and
partly in these hieroglyphic characters, in the following
manner : “ He (the hierophant) drew out certain books
from the secret repositories of the sanctuary', written in
unknown characters, which contained the w’ords of the
sacred formula compendiously expressed, partly by fi¬
gures of animals, and partly by certain marks or notes
intricately knotted, revolving in the manner of a wheel,
crowded together, and curled inward like the tendrils
of a vine, so as to hide the meaning from the curiosity
of the profane.”
But though letters were of great antiquity in Egypt,
there is reason to believe that they were not first in¬
vented in that country. Mr Jackson, in his Chrono¬
logical Antiquities, has endeavoured to prove, that they
were not invented or carried into Egypt by Taaut or
Thoth, the first Hermes, and son of Misraim, who lived
about 500 years after the deluge j but that they were
introduced into that country by the second Hermes,
who lived about 400 years after the former. This se¬
cond Hermes, according to Diodorus, was the inventor
of grammar and music, and added many words to the
Egyptian language. According to the same author
also, he invented letters, rhythm, and the harmony of
sounds. This was the Hermes so much celebrated by
the Greeks, who knew no other than himself. On the
other hand, Mr Wise asserts that Moses and Cadmus
could not learn the alphabet in Egypt j and that the
Egyptians had no alphabet in their time. He adduces
several reasons to prove that they had none till they
received what was called the Coptic, which was intro¬
duced either in the time of the Ptolemies or under
Psammitichus or Amasis; and the oldest alphabetic let¬
ters which can be produced as Egyptian, appear plain¬
ly to have been derived from the Greek. Herodotus
confesses, that all he relates before the reign of Psam¬
mitichus is uncertain ; and that he reports the early
transactions of that nation on the credit of the Egyptian
priests, on which he did not greatly depend $ and Dio¬
dorus Siculus is said to have been greatly imposed upon
by them. Manetho, the oldest Egyptian historian,
translated the sacred registers out of Egyptian into
Greek, which are said by Syncellus to have been writ¬
ten in the sacred letters, and to have been laid up by
the second Mercury in the Egyptian temples. He al¬
lows the Egyptian gods to have been mortal men j but
his history was very much corrupted by the Greeks,
and hath been called in question by several writers from
the account which he himself gave of it. After Cam-
byses had carried away the Egyptian records, the priests,
to supply their loss, and to keep up their pretensions to
antiquity, began to write new records ; wherein they
not only unavoidably made great mistakes, but added
much of their own invention, especially as to distant
times.
The Phoenicians have likewise been supposed the
inventors of letters j and we have the strongest proofs
]
ALP
51aim of
he Phoeni-
ians,
of the early civilization of this people. Their most an- Alphabet:
cient historian, Sanchoniatho, lived in the time of Abi- t
alus, father of Hiram king of Tyre. He informs us,
that letters were invented by Taaut, who lived in
Phoenicia in the 12th and 13th generations after the
creation. “ Misor (says he) was the son of Hamyn ;
the son of Misor was Taaut, who invented the first
letters for writing.” The Egyptians call him Thoth ;
the Alexandrians Thoyth: and the Greeks Hermes, or
Mercury. In the time of this Taaut or Mercury, (the
grandson of Ham the son of Noah), Phoenicia and the
adjacent country was governed by Uranus, and after
him by his son Saturn or Cronus. He invented letters
either in the reign of Uranus or Cronus ; and staid in
Phoenicia with Cronus till the 3^d year of his reign.
Cionus, after the death of his father Uranus, made
several settlements of his family, and travelled into
other parts; and wdien he came to the south country,
he gave all Egypt to the god Taautus, that it should
be his kingdom. Sanchoniatho began his history with
the creation, and ended it with placing Taautus on the
throne of Egypt. He does not mention the deluge,
but makes two more generations in Cain’s line from
Protagonus to Agrovenus (or from Adam to Noah)
than Moses. As Sanchoniatho has not told us
whether Taaut invented letters either in the reign of
Uranus or Cronus, “ we cannot err much (says Mr
Jackson) it we place his invention of them 550 years
after the flood, or 20 years after the dispersion, and
2619 years before the Christian era, and six, or perhaps
ten years, before he went into Egypt. This prince and
his posterity reigned at Thebes iii Upper Egypt for 15
generations.
Several Roman authors attribute the invention of
letters to the Phoenicians. Pliny says (a), the Phoeni¬
cians were famed for the invention of letters, as well
as for astronomical observations and novel and martial
arts. Curtius informs us, that the Tyrian nation are
related to be the first who either taught or learned let¬
ters : and Lucan says, that they were the first who at¬
tempted to express sounds or wmrds by letters. Eu¬
sebius also tells us from Porphyry, that “ Sanchonia¬
tho studied with great application the writings of
Taaut, knowing that he was the first who invented let¬
ters.”
The Greeks, as we have already observed, knew no
older Hermes than the second, who lived about 400 .
years after the Mezrite Taaut or Hermes. This se¬
cond Hermes is called by Plato Theuth, and counsellor
or sacred scribe to King Thanius $ but it is not said
that he ever reigned in Egypt: but the former Taaut,
or Athothes, as Manetho calls him, was the immedi¬
ate successor of Menes the first king of Egypt. This
second Mercury, if we may believe Manetho, compos¬
ed several books of the Egyptian history, and having
improved both the language and letters of that nation,
the Egyptians attributed the arts and inventions of the
former to the latter. The Phoenician language is ge¬
nerally allowed to have been a dialect of the Hebrew 5
and though their alphabet does not entirely agree with
the i
(a) He says in another place, that the knowledge of letters is eternal. What dependence can we put in th«
opinion of a writer who thus contradicts himself?
ALP [ 726 ] ALP
Alphabet, the Samaritan, yet there is a great similarity between
. Lv. j them. Astronomy and arithmetic were much cultivat¬
ed among them in the most early ages ; their fine linen,
purple, and glass, were much superior to those of other
nations •, and their extraordinary skill in architecture
and other arts was such, that whatever was great, ele¬
gant, or pleasing, whether in buildings, apparel, or toys,
was distinguished by the epithet of Tyrian or Sidonian j
these being the chief cities of Phoenicia. Their great
proficiency in learning and arts of all kinds, together
with their engrossing all the commerce of the western
world, are likewise thought to give them a just claim to
the invention of letters.
Of the The Chaldeans also have laid claim to the invention
Chaldeans. 0f letters ; and with regard to this, there is a tradition
among the Jews, Indians, and Arabians, that the E-
gyptians derived their knowledge from Abraham, who
was a Chaldean. This tradition is in some degree con¬
firmed by most of the western writers, who ascribe the
inventions of arithmetic and astronomy to the Chal¬
deans. Josephus positively asserts, that the Egyptians
were ignorant of the sciences of arithmetic and astro¬
nomy before they were instructed by Abraham ; and Sir
Isaac Newton admits, that letters were known in the
line of that patriarch for many centuries before Moses.
The Chaldaic letters appear to have been derived from
the Hebrew or Samaritan $ which are the same, or near¬
ly so, with the old Phcecician. Ezra is supposed to
have exchanged the old Hebrew characters for the more
beautiful and commodious Chaldee, which are still in
use. Berosus, the most ancient Chaldean historian, who
was born in the minority of Alexander the Great, does
not say that he believed his countrymen to have been
the inventors of letters.
OftheSy. The Syrians have also laid claim to the invention of
riaRs. letters. It is certain indeed, that they yielded to no
nation in knowledge and skill in the fine arts. Their
language is said to have been the vernacular of all the
oriental tongues, and was divided into three dialects.
X. The Aramean, used in Mesopotamia, and by the in¬
habitants of Roha and Edesa of Harram, and the Outer
Syria. 2. The dialect of Palestine ; spoken by the in¬
habitants of Damascus, Mount Libanus, and the Inner
Syria. 3. The Chaldee or Nabathean dialect, the most
unpolished of the three 5 and spoken in the mountainous
parts of Assyria, and the villages of Irac or Babylonia.
It has been generally believed, that no nation of equal
antiquity had a more considerable trade than the Syri¬
ans : they are supposed to have first brought the com¬
modities of Persia and India into the west of Asia ; and
they seem to have carried on an inland trade by en¬
grossing the navigation of the Euphrates, whilst the
Phcenicians traded to the most distant countries. Not¬
withstanding these circumstances, however, which might
seem to favour the claim of the Syrians, the oldest cha¬
racters they have are but about three centuries before
Christ. Their letters are of two sorts. 1. The Es-
trangelo, which is the more ancient; and, 2. The Fshi-
to, the simple or common character, which is the more
expeditious and beautiful.
Of the In- We must next examine the claims of the Indians,
dians. whose pretensions to antiquity yield to no other nation
on earth. Mr Halhed, wdio has written a grammar of
the Shanscrit language, informs us, that it is not only
the grand source of Indian literature, but the parent.
of almost every dialect from the Persian gulf to the Alphabet
Chinese seas, and which is said to he a language of the —v—^
most venerable antiquity. At present it is appropriated
to religious records of the Bramins, and therefore shut
up in their libraries $ but formerly it appears to have
been current over the greatest part of the eastern world,
as traces of its extent may be found in almost every di¬
strict of A sia.
Mr Halhed informs us, that “ there is a great simi¬
larity between the Shanscrit words and those of the
Persian and Arabic, and even of Latin and Greek *,
and these not in technical or metaphorical terms, but
in the main ground-works of language j in monosylla¬
bles, the names of numbers, and the appellations of such
things as would be first discriminated on the immediate
dawn of civilization. The resemblance which may be
seen of the characters on the medals and signets of dif¬
ferent parts of Asia, the light they reciprocally throw
upon one another, and the general analogy which they
all bear to the grand prototype, affords another ample
field for curiosity. The coins of Assam, Napaul, Cash-
miria, and many other kingdoms, are all stamped with
Shanscrit letters, and mostly contain allusions to the ;®rs^
old Shanscrit mythology. The same conformity may
be observed in the impressions of seals from Boutan and
Thibet.”
The country between the Indus and Ganges still pre¬
serves the Shanscrit language in its original purity, and
oilers a great number of books to the perusal of the cu¬
rious ; many of which have been handed down from the
earliest periods of human civilization.
There are seven different sorts of Indian hand-writ¬
ings, all comprised under the general term of Naagoree,
which may be interpreted ■writing. The Bramins say
that letters were of divine original ; and the elegant
Shanscrit is styled Daeb-naagoree^ or the writings of
the Immortals, which might not improbably be a refine¬
ment from the more simple Naagoree of former ages.
The Bengal letters are another branch of the same
stock. The Bramins of Bengal have all their Shan¬
scrit books copied in their national alphabet, and they
transpose into them all the Daeb-naagoree manuscripts
for their own perusal. The Moorish dialect is that
species of Hindostanic which we owe to the conquest#
of the Mahometans.
The Shanscrit language contains about 700 radical
words 5 the fundamental part being divided into three
classes, viz. 1. Dhaat, or roots of verbs; 2. Shubd,
or original nouns ; 3. Evya, or particles. Their al¬
phabet contains 50 letters ; viz. 34 consonants and 16
vowels. They assert that they were in possession of I "tytlJ
letters before any other nation in the world ; and Mr ^oi
Halhed conjectures, that the long-boasted original ci¬
vilization of the Egyptians may still be a matter of dis¬
pute. The rajah of Kishinagur affirms, that he has in
his possession Shanscrit books, where the Egyptians
are constantly described as disciples, not as instructors;
and as seeking in Hindostan that liberal education, and
those sciences, which none of their own countrymen
had sufficient knowledge to impart. Mr Halhed hints
also, that the learning of Hindostan might have been
transplanted into Egypt, and thus have become fami¬
liar to Moses. Several authors, however, are of opi¬
nion, that the ancient Egyptians possessed themselves
of the trade of the East by the Red sea, and that they
carried
A!lj(bal)et
etters not
yenled in
Tsia;
f by tlie
abians.
ALP [7
carried on a considerable traffic with the Indian nations
j helore the time oi besostris j whom they suppose to have
been cotemporary with Abraham, though Sir Isaac
Newton conjectures him to have been the Shishak who
took Jerusalem in the time of Ilehoboam.
In the year 1769* one the sacred books of the
Gentoos, called Bagavadam, translated by Meridas
1 oule, a learned man ot Indian origin, and chief in¬
terpreter to the supreme council of Pondicherry, was
sent by him to M. Berten in France. In his preface
he says, that it was composed by Viassar the son of
Brahma, and is of sacred authority among the worship¬
pers of Vischnow. This book claims an antiquity of
5000 years j but M. de Guines has shown, that its pre¬
tensions to such extravagant antiquity are entirely in¬
conclusive and unsatisfactory : whence we may con¬
clude, says Mr Astle, that though a farther inquiry in¬
to the literature of the Indian nations may be laudable,
yet we must by no means give too easy credit to their
relations concerning the high antiquity of their manu¬
scripts and early civilization.
It is not pretended that the Persians had any great
learning among them till the time of Hystaspes the
father of Darius. The former, we are told, travelled
into India, and was instructed by the Bramins in the
sciences for which they were famed at that time. The
ancient Persians despised riches and commerce, nor had
they any money among them till after the conquest of
Lydia. It appears by several incriptions taken from
the ruins of the palace of Persepolis, which was built
near 700 years before the Christian era, that the Per¬
sians sometimes wrote in perpendicular columns like
tiie Chinese. This mode of writing was first made use
ol on the stems of trees, pillars, or obelisks. As 1'or
those simple characters found on the west side of the
staircase of Persepolis, some have supposed them to be
alphabetic, some hieroglyphic, and others antediluvian.
Dr Hyde pronounces them to have been mere whim¬
sical ornaments, though the author of Conjectural Ob¬
servations on Alphabetic Writing supposes them to be
fragments of Egyptian antiquity brought by Cambyses
from the spoils of Thebes. The learned are generally
agreed, that the Persians were later in civilization than
many of their neighbours; and they are not supposed
to have any pretensions to the invention of letters.
As the Arabians have been in possession of the coun¬
try they now inhabit for upwards of 3700 years, with¬
out being intermixed with foreign nations, or subjugat¬
ed by any other power, their language must be very
ancient. The two principal dialects of it were that
spoken by the Hamyarites and other genuine Arabs ;
and that of the Koreish, in which Mahomet wrote the
Alcoran. The former is named by oriental writers,
the Arabic of Hamyar ; the latter, the pure or defecated
Arabic. Mr Richardson observes, as a proof of tlie
richness of this language, that it consists of 2000 radi¬
cal words.
The old Arabic characters are said to have been of
very high antiquity ; for Ebn Hashem relates, that an
inscription in it was found in Yaman as old as the days
of Joseph. Hence some have supposed, that the Ara¬
bians were the inventors of letters ; and Sir Isaac New¬
ton is of opinion, that Moses learned the alphabet from
the Midianites, who were Arabians.
The alphabet of the Arabs consists of 28 letters
3
2 7 ] ALP
similar to the ancient Cufic, in which the first copies of Alphabet,
t lie Alcoran were written. The present Arabic cha- —v—~.
racters were formed by Ebn Moklah, a learned Ara¬
bian, who lived about 300 years after Mahomet. The
Arabian writers themselves inform us that their alpha¬
bet is not very ancient, and that they received it only a
short time before the introduction of Islamism.
On this account of the pretensions of different na¬
tions to the invention of letters, Mr Astle makes the
following reflections: “ The vanity of each nation in¬
duces them to pretend to the most early civilization :
but sue,; is the uncertainty of ancient history, that it
is difficult to determine to whom the honour is due. It
should eem, however, that the contest may be confined
to the Egyptians, the Phoenicians, and the Chaldeans,
T he Greek writers, and most of those who have copied
them, decide in favour of Egypt, because their infor¬
mation is derived from the Egyptians themselves. The Letters
positive claim of the Phoenicians does not depend en-most P™"
tirely upon the testimony of Sanchoniatho ; the credit^ntedlu
of his history is also well supported by Philo of Byblus phoenici*..
his translator, Porphyry, Pliny, Curtius, Lucan, and
other ancient writers, who might have seen his works
entire, and whose relations deserve at least as much
credit as those of the Egyptian and Greek writers. It
must be alloyved, that Sanchoniatho’s history contains
many fabulous accounts; but does not the ancient hi¬
story of the Egyptians, the Greeks, and most other na¬
tions, abound with them to a much greater degree ?
I he fragments which yve have of this most ancient hi¬
storian are chiefly furnished by Eusebius, who took all
possible advantages to represent the Pagan writers in
the worst light, and to render their theology absurd
and ridiculous.
“ 1 he Phoenician and Egyptian languages are very
similar; hut the latter is said to be more large and
full, which is an indication of its being of a later date.
I he opinion of Mr Wise, however, that the ancient
Egyptians had not the knowledge of letters, seems to
be erroneous; as they had commercial intercourse
with their neighbours the Phoenicians, they probably
had the knowledge of letters, if their policy, like that
of the Chinese at this day, did not prohibit the use of
them.
“ The Chaldeans, who cultivated astronomy in the
most remote ages, used symbols or arbitrary marks in
their calculations; and we have shewn that these were
the parents of letters. This circumstance greatly fa¬
vours their claim to the invention : because Chaldea,
and the countries adjacent, are alloyved by all authors,
both sacred and profane, to have been peopled before
Egypt ; and it is certain, that many nations said to
be descended from Shem and Japheth, had their let¬
ters from the Phoenicians, who were descended from
Ham.
“ It is observable that the Chaldeans, the Syrians,
Phoenicians, and Egyptians, all bordered upon each
other ; and as the Phoenicians were the greatest as well
as the most ancient commercial nation, it is very pro¬
bable that they communicated letters to the Egyptians,
the ports of Tyre and Sidon being not far distant from
each other.
“ Mr Jackson is evidently mistaken wjjen he says
that letters were invented 2619 years before the birth
of Christ. The deluge recorded by Moses was 2349
years
ALP { 7
Alphabet, years before that event; and if letters were not invent-
; iiv  < ed till 550 years after, as be asserts, we must date their
discovery only 1799 years before the Christian era,
which is 410 years after the reign of Menes, the first
king of Egypt, who, according to Syncellus and others,
is said to have been the same person with the Misor of
Sanchoniatho, the Mizraim of the Scriptures, and the
Osiris of the Egyptians 5 but whether this be true or
not, Egypt is frequently called in Scripture the land of
Mix r aim.
“ This Mizraim, the second son of Amyn or Ham,
seated himself near the entrance of Egypt at Zoan, in
the year before Christ 2188, and 160 years after the
flood. He afterwards built Thebes, and some say
Memphis. Before the time that he went into Egypt,
his son Taaut had invented letters in Phoenicia j and
if this invention took place ten years before the migra¬
tion of his father into Egypt, as Mr Jackson supposes,
we may trace letters as far back as the year 2178 be¬
fore Christ, or 150 years after the deluge recorded by
Moses j and beyond this period, the written annals of
mankind, which have been hitherto transmitted to us,
will not enable us to trace the knowledge of them }
though this want of materials is no proof that letters
were not known until a century and a half after the de¬
luge. As for the pretensions of the Indian nations, we
must be better acquainted with their records before we
can admit of their claim to the first use of letters ; es¬
pecially as none of their manuscripts of any great anti¬
quity have as yet appeared in Europe. That the Ara¬
bians were not the inventors of letters, has appeared by
their own confession. Plato somewhere mentions Hy¬
perborean letters very different from the Greek; these
might have been the characters used by the Tartars, or
ancient Scythians.
Of antedi- “ It may be expected that something should be said
hmanw'rit-concerning those books mentioned by some authors to
inff* have been written before the deluge. Amongst others,
Hr Parsons, in his Remains of Japheth, p. 346, 359,
supposes letters to have been known to Adam ; and
the Sabeans produce a book, which they pretend was
written by Adam. But concerning these we have no
guide to direct us any more than concerning the sup¬
posed books of Enoch ; some of which, Origen tells
us, were found in Arabia Felix, in the dominions of
the queen of Saba. Tertullian affirms, that he saw and
read several pages of them : and, in his treatise De Ha-
bitu Mulierum, he places those books among the cano¬
nical : but St Jerome and St Austin look upon them to
be apocryphal. William Postellus pretended to com¬
pile his book. Tie Originibus, from the book of Enoch ;
and Thomas Bangius published at Copenhagen, in 1657,
a work which contains many singular relations concern¬
ing the manner of writing among the Antediluvians,
which contains several pleasant stories concerning the
books of Enoch.
“ With regard to this patriarch, indeed, St Jude
informs us that he prophesied, but he does not say that
be wrote. The writings, therefore, attributed to the
Antediluvians, must appear quite uncertain; though it
>8 ] ALP
might be improper to assert that letters were unknown Alphabet, jlpW
before the deluge recorded by Moses.” ^
Our author proceeds to show, that all the alphabets All the al- |
in the world cannot be derived from one original ; be- phabets in
cause there are a variety of alphabets used in different^!e wor^
parts ot Asia, which vary in name, number, hgure, or-.)rove(j to
der, and power, from the Phoenician, ancient Hebrew, arise from
or Samaritan. In several of these alphabets also, there one origi.
are marks for sounds peculiar to the languages of the113**
East, which are not necessary to be employed in the
notation of the languages of Europe.
None of the alphabets to the east of Persia have any
connexion with the Phoenician or its derivatives, ex¬
cept where the Arabic letters have been introduced by
the conquests of the Mahometans. The foundation of
all the Indian characters are those called Shanscrit or
Sungscrit. This signifies something brought to perfec¬
tion, in contradistinction to Prakrit, which signifies vul¬
gar or unpolished. Hence the refined and religious lan¬
guage and characters of India are called Sungscrit, and
the more vulgar mode of writing and expression Prakrit.
From this Shanscrit are derived the sacred characters of
Thibet, the Cashmirian, Bengalese, Malabaric, and
Tamoul; the Cingalese, Siamese, Mahrattan, Conca-
nee, &c. From the same source we may derive the
Tangutic or Tartar characters, which are similar in
their great outlines to the Shanscrit; though it is not
easily determined which is derived from the other. The
common Tartar is generally read, like the Chinese,
from top to bottom.
There are, however, several alphabets used in differ¬
ent parts of Asia, entirely different not only from the
Shanscrit and all those derived from it, but also from
the Phoenician and those which proceed from it. Some
of these are the alphabet of Pegu, the Batta characters
used in the island of Sumatra, and the Barman or Bo-
man characters used in some parts of Pegu. The
names and powers of the letters of which these alpha¬
bets are composed, difl’er entirely from the Phoenician,
or those derived from them. It is impossible to assimi¬
late their forms ; and indeed it is by no means easy to
conceive how the 50 letters of the Shanscrit language
could he derived from the Phoenician alphabet, which
consisted originally only of 13 ; though it is certain,
that by far the greater number of alphabets now in
use are derived from the ancient Hebrew, Phoenician,
or Samaritan.
Mr Astle next proceeds to consider what alphabets Alphabets
are derived from the Phoenician. These he supposes toj?er*T®jje
have been immediately the ancient Hebrew or Samari-p^^^j^
tan ; the Chaldaic ; the Bastulian (a) or Spanish Phoe¬
nician ; the Punic, Carthaginian, or Sicilian ; and the
Pelaegian. From the ancient Hebrew proceeded the
Chaldaic or square Hebrew ; the round Hebrew ; and
what is called the running hand of the Bobbins. The
Pelasgian gave birth to the Etruscan, Eugubian or
Umbrian, Oscan, Samnic, and Ionic Greek, written
from the left. From the Chaldaic or square Hebrew
are derived the Syriac, and the ancient and modern
Arabic. The Syriac is divided into the Estrangelo
(A) Bastuli are said to have been a Canaanitish or Phoenician people who fled from Joshua, and settled
afterwards in Spain.j
ALP [ 729 l ALP
llphabet. Mendaean, and the modern Arabic has given rise language was a dialect of the Etruscan j their charac- Alphabet
"v Efiisi&n and l uikish. b rom tlie ancient Arabic ters are nearer the Ionic or Roman than the Etruscan.v   -y— 1 <
are derived the Cufic or Oriental, the Mauritanic or
Occidental, the African or Saracen, and the Moorish.
The Ionic Greek gave rise to the Arcadian, Latin, an¬
cient Gaulish, ancient Spanish, ancient Gothic, Coptic,
Ethiopic, Russian, Illyrian or Sclavonic, Bulgarian,
and Armenian. From the Roman are derived the
Lombardic, Visigothic, Saxon, Galilean, Franco-Gal¬
lic or Merovingian, German, Caroline, Capetian, and
modern Gothic.
The Punic letters are also called Tyrian, and were
much the same with the Carthaginian or Sicilian. The
Punic language was at first the same with the Phoeni¬
cian ; it is nearly allied to the Hebrew, and has an af¬
finity with the Chaldee and Syriac. Some remains of
it are to be met with in the Maltese. To make a com¬
plete Punic, Carthaginian, or Sicilian alphabet, we must
admit several pure Phoenician letters.
The Pelasgi were likewise of Phoenician original j
and, according to Sanchoniatho, the Dioscuri and Ca¬
bin wrote the first annals of the Phoenician history, by
order of Taaut, the inventor of letters. They made
ships of burthen ; and being cast upon the coast near
Mount Casius, about 40 miles from Pelusium, where
they built a temple in tbe second generation after the
deluge related by Moses, they were called Pelasgi, from
their passing by sea, and wandering from one country
to another. Herodotus informs us, that the Pelasgi
were descendants of the Phoenician Cabin", and that the
Samothracians received and practised the Cabiric my¬
steries from them. The. Pelasgic alphabet prevailed in
Greece till tbe time of Deucalion, when the Pelasgi
were driven out of Thessaly or Oenotria by the Hel¬
lenes *, after which some of them settled at the mouth
of the Po, and others at Croton, now Cortona is Tus¬
cany. Their alphabet consisted of 16 letters, and the
Tyrrhenian alphabet, brought into Italy before the
reign of that prince, consisted of no more than 13. Deu¬
calion is said to have reigned about 820 years after the
deluge, and 1526 before the Christian era.
That the Tyrrheni, Tyrseni or Hetrusci, settled in
Italy long before this period, appears from the testi¬
mony of Herodotus, who informs us, that a colony
went by sea from Lydia into Italy under Tyrrhenus ;
and Dionysius of Halicarnassus proves that many au¬
thors called them Pelasgi. He then cites Hellanicus
Lesbicus, an author somewhat more ancient than He¬
rodotus, to prove, that they were first called Pelasgi
Tyrrheni; and when they passed into Italy, they set¬
tled in that part of it called Etruria. Their emigration
took place about the year of the world 2011, or 1993
years before the Christian era, which is 350 years be¬
fore the Pelasgi left Greece. Bishop Cumberland ad¬
duces many proofs to show that the Tyrrhenians origi¬
nally came out of Lydia into Italy. Several Roman
authors also speak of this Lydian colony j and Horace
compliments his patron Maecenas upon his Lydian
descent:
Lydorum quicquid Etruscos
Incolvit fines, nemo generosior est te.
The Etruscan letters are Pelasgic, and several of the
Etruscan inscriptions are written in the Pelasgic lan¬
guage. The Roman letters are Ionic. The Oscan
Vol. I. Part II. f
I here is also very little difference between the Pelas-
gian, Etruscan, and most ancient Greek letters, which
are placed from right to left. The Arcadians were an¬
cient Greeks, and used the Ionic letters 5 but at what
time they began to write from left to right is not
known, as their chronology is very uncertain. The
Etruscan, Oscan, and Samnite alphabets, are derived
from the Pelasgic : they differ from each other more in
name than in form $ but a far greater number are de¬
rived from the Ionic Greek, namely, the Arcadian,
the Latin or Roman, and the others already enume¬
rated.—-I he Runic is immediately derived from the
Gothic.
According to Dionysius of Halicarnassus, the first
Greek colony which came into Italy consisted of Arca¬
dians, under the conduct of Oenotrus, the son of Ly-
caon, and fifth in descent from Phoroneus, the first king
of Argos, who reigned about 599 years before the tak¬
ing of Troy, and 1750 years before the Christian era.
Ihese Oenotrians were called Aborigenes} and after
they had been engaged for many years in a war with
the Siculi, entered into an alliance with a colony of the
Pelasgi, who came out of Thessaly into Italy, after having
been driven from the former country. About 1476 B. C.
another colony of the Pelasgi, who had been driven out
of 1 hessaly by the Curetes and Leleges, arrived in Ita¬
ly, where they assisted the Aborigines to drive out the
Siculi, possessing themselves of the greatest part of the
country between the Tiber and the Liris, and building
several cities. Solinus and Pliny tell us, that the Pe¬
lasgi first carried letters into Italy 5 and the latter di¬
stinguishes between the Pelasgi and the Arcades j so
the letters first carried into Italy were not the Ionic
Greek, but those more ancient Pelasgic characters
which the Pelasgi carried with them before Deucalion
and Cadmus are said to have come into Boeotia and
rl hessaly. The story of Cadmus is much involved in
fable j but it is agreed by most of the ancients, that
the children of Agenor, viz. Cadmus, Europa, Phoenix,
and Cilix, carried with them a colony, composed of
Phoenicians and Syrians, into Asia Minor, Crete,
Greece, and Libya, where they introduced letters, mu¬
sic, poetry, and other arts, sciences, and customs, of the
Phoenicians.
Dionysius enumerates the following Greek colonies
which came into Italy : l.The Aborigines under Oe¬
notrus, from Arcadia. 2. The Pelasgic colony, which
came from Hoemonia or Thessaly. 3. Another Arca¬
dian colony which came with Evander from Palantium.
4. Those who came from Peloponnesus with Hercules j
and, 5. Those who came with ^Eneas from Troy. It
is not easy to discover when the Ionic way of writing
from left to right was introduced into Italy j but it is
certain, that it did not universally prevail even in
Greece till several ages after it was found out. The
Athenians did not comply with it till the year of Rome
350 ; nor was it practised by the Samnites even in the
6th century of that city, er 230 years before Christ:
for M. Gobelin, vol. vi. PI. 2. gives us the Samnite
alphabet of that century, wherein the letters are placed
from right to left; although the Ionic way of writing
prevailed in some parts of Italy in the third century of
Rome. “ In time ^says Pliny) the tacit consent of all
4 Z nations
ALP [ 73° ] ALP
Alphabet.
See Plate!
XV. and
XVI. for
specimens
of the an¬
cient al¬
phabets
here emi-
wierated.
Alphabet*
rferired
from the
nations agreed to use the Ionic letters. The Komans
consented to this mode about the time of Tarquinius
Priscus, their fifth king.” The letters brought by
Demaratus the Corinthian, the father of Tarquin, Mr
Wise thinks, must have been the new or Ionic alpha¬
bet, and not. the same with that brought by Evander
5OD years before. After the Romans had established
the use of the Ionic letters, they seem not to have ac¬
knowledged the Pelasgian and Etruscan to have been
Greek alphabets: the most learned of them knew none
older than the Tonic, as appears from the Greek Farnese
inscriptions of Herodes Atticus. This learned man,
out of a regard to antiquity, caused the old ortho¬
graphy to be observed in the writing, and the letters to
be delineated after the most antique forms that could
be found ; and they are plainly no other than the Ionic
or right-handed characters.
The ancient Gaulish letters are derived from the
Greek, and their writing approaches more nearly to
the Gothic than that of the Romans : this appears by
the monumental inscription of Gordian, messenger of
the Gauls, who suffered martyrdom in the third cen¬
tury, with all his family. These ancient Gaulish cha¬
racters were generally used by the people before the
conquest of Gaul by Caesar j but after that time the
Roman letters were gradually introduced. The ancient
Spaniards used letters nearly Greek before their inter¬
course with the Romans. The ancient Gothic alpha¬
bet was very similar to the Greek, and is attributed to
Ulphilas, bishop of the Goths, who lived in Maesia
about 370 years after Christ. He translated the Bible
into the Gothic tongue. This circumstance might have
occasioned the tradition of his having invented these
letters ; but it is probable that these characters were in
use long before this time. The Runic alphabet is de¬
rived from the ancient Gothic.
The Coptic letters are derived immediately from the
Greek. Some have confounded them with the ancient
Egyptian j but there is a very material difi’erence be¬
tween them. The Ethiopic alphabet is derived from
the Coptic.
The alphabet proceeding from that of the Scythians
established in Europe, is the same with what St Cyril
calls the Servien. The Russian, Illyrian or Sclavonic,
and the Bulgarian, are all derived from the Greek.
The Armenian letters differ very much from the Greek,
trom which they are derived, as well as from the
Latin.
With regard to the alphabets derived from the La¬
tin, the Lombardic relates to the manuscripts of Italy ;
the Visigothic to those of Spain ; the Saxon to those
of England j the Gallican and Franco-Gallic or Me¬
rovingian to the manuscripts of France ; the German
those of that country ; and the Caroline, Capetian,
and modern Gothic, to all the countries of Europe
who read Latin. The first six of these alphabets are
before the age of Charlemagne, the last three posterior
to it. They are more distinguished by their names
than the forms of their characters j and the former in¬
dicate all of them to have been of Roman extraction.
Each nation, in adopting the letters of the Ro¬
mans, added a taste and manner peculiar to itself;
which obviously distinguished it from the writings of
all other people ; whence arose the differences between
the writings of the Lombards, Spaniards, French, Alphahet
Saxons, Germans, and Goths, and all the strange terms 1
observable in the writings of the Francic Gauls or Me¬
rovingians ; and those of the Carlovingians, their suc¬
cessors may be traced from the same source. From
these distinctions the name of national writing was de¬
rived.
The writing of Italy was uniform till the irruption
of the Goths, who disfigured it by their barbarous
taste. In 569, the Lombards, having possessed them¬
selves of all Italy, excepting Rome and Ravenna, in¬
troduced that form of writing which goes under their
name; and as the popes used the Lombardic manner
in their hulls, the name of Rotnan was sometimes given
to it in the nth century; and though the dominion
of the Lombards continued no longer than 206 years,
the name of their writing continued in Italy from the
7th to the 13th century, and then ceased ; when learn¬
ing having declined in that as well as in other coun¬
tries, the manner of writing degenerated into the mo¬
dern Gothic.
The Visigoths introduced their form of writing into
Spain, after having overrun that country ; but it was
abolished in a provincial synod, held at Leon in 1091,
when the Latin characters were established for all pub¬
lic instruments, though the Visigothic were used in pri¬
vate writings for three centuries afterwards.
The Gauls, on being subjected by the Romans, a-
dopted their manner of writing ; hut by subsequent ad¬
ditions of their own, their characters were changed into
what is called the Gallican or Roman Gallic mode. This
was changed by the Franks into the Franco-Gallic or
Merovingian mode of writing, being practised under
the kings of the Merovingian race. It took place to¬
wards the close of the sixth century, and continued till
the beginning of the ninth.
The German mode of writing was improved by Char¬
lemagne ; and this improvement occasioned another di¬
stinction in writing, by introducing the alphabet named
Caroline, which declined in the 12th century, and was
succeeded in the 13th by the modern Gothic. In
France it had degenerated by the middle of the 10th
century, but was restored in 987 by Hugh Capet,
whence it obtained the name of Capetian. It was used
in England, as well as Germany and France.
The modern Gothic, which spread itself all over Eu¬
rope in the 12th and 13th centuries, is improperly
named, as not deriving its origin from the writing an¬
ciently used by the Goths. It is, however, the worst
and most barbarous way of writing, and originated
among the schoolmen in the decline of the arts; being
indeed nothing else than Latin writing degenerated.
It began in the 12th century, and was in general use,
especially among monks and schoolmen, in all parts of
Europe, till the restoration of arts in the 15th century,
and continued longer in Germany and the northern
nations. Our statute books are still printed in Gothic
letters. The most barbarous writing of the seventh,
eighth, and ninth centuries, was preferable to the mo¬
dern Gothic. It is diversified in such a manner as can
scarce admit of description ; and the abbreviations used
by the writers were so numerous, that it became very
difficult to read it; which was one of the great causes
of the ignorance of those times. Along with this,
however,
ALP
A.lpi»abet. however, the Lomhardic, Gothic, Roman, Caroline, and
- v”11 Capetian modes of writing, were occasionally used by
individuals.
The idea that all the alphabets above mentioned are
derived from the Roman, tends to prove the distinction
of national writing, and is of great use in discovering
the age of manuscripts : for though we may not be able
exactly to determine the time when a manuscript was
written, we may be able nearly to ascertain its age. For
example, if a writing is Merovingian, it may be decla¬
red not to be posterior to the 9th, nor prior to the 5th,
century. If another be Lombardic, it may be affirmed
to be posterior to the middle of the 9th, and prior to the
13th. Should it be Saxon, it cannot be of an earlier
date than the 7th, nor later than about the middle of
the 12th.
,etter* Having considered whence the alphabets now in use
add not throughout the various nations of the world are deriv-
iTfroma e^’ ^ rema*ns 1:0 say something concerning them as the
(composi- elements of words, or how far they are capable of ex¬
on of lan-pressing those sounds which, by proper combination
and arrangement, constitute articulate language. The
number of simple sounds in any language cannot be very
numerous; and it is plainly these simple sounds alone
that we have occasion to represent by alphabetical cha¬
racters. Hence the person who first invented letters
must have been capable of analyzing language in a man¬
ner which seems by no means easy to do, and concern¬
ing which even the learned among ourselves are not yet
agreed. It is this difficulty which has produced the
great diversity in the number of alphabetical characters
used by different nations^ and where we see a vast num¬
ber of them used, we may account the writing not the
better, but much the worse for it; and whoever the pre¬
tended inventor was, it is more reasonable to suppose
that he disfigured an alphabet already invented, by un¬
necessary additions, than that he was the author of one
himself.
M»bably When we consider alphabetical characters as thus re-
>t the re- suiting from an analysis of language, it will by no means
It of a appear probable that it was derived from a gradual and
progressive operation of the human mind through many
e human ages* There is not the least affinity betwixt represent-
w«rs. ing any object by a picture and finding out the sounds
which compose the word by which it is expressed: nor,
though a nation had been in use to represent things
either in this method, or by any kind of arbitrary
marks, for thousands of years, could the one ever have
led to the other. Arbitrary marks must always be the
lame with' pictures in this respect, that they must al¬
ways be fixed to particular objects, and thus be in¬
creased ad infinitum. Letters, on the other hand, are
indifferent to all objects; and therefore, by their com¬
binations, which are more numerous than as many ar¬
bitrary marks as we could remember, may express all
the objects in nature. This might furnish an argument
of some strength for the divine revelation of writing,
were it not that other arts, seemingly as useful, and as
difficult to be invented, had not been expressly ascrib¬
ed tp particular persons whom we cannot suppose to
have been divinely inspired. Thus metallurgy, music,
the keeping of cattle, and use of tents, are all ascrib-
«d to a single family-} and though writing be not ex-
ALP
pressly mentioned as an invention in Scripture, there is Alphabet.
no reason to have recourse to a revelation for it, as long —“v 
as the human faculties are known to have been suffi¬
cient for the invention of it. Nevertheless, if we take a
review of the different arts which mankind have in¬
vented, we shall find, that few of them resulted from
any gradual progress or evolution of the powers of the
human mind, but rather by some sudden and almost
unaccountable turn of thought in an individual. Thus,
the art of printing, little inferior in its utility to that
of writing, lay hid for ages, and was at last invented
we scarce know how } so that if one inclined to sup¬
pose this a divine revelation, he could be at little loss
for arguments to support his hypothesis. This was what
all the inventions and evolutions of human powers since
the creation had never been able to accomplish ; yet
nobody believes that it required supernatural abilities
to be the author of this art, because we see plainly that
it might have occurred to the human mind from various
sources, and are surprised that it did not occur long
before. In like manner, the method of accounting for
the celestial motions by the united forces of projection
and gravitation, was no result of the progress that
mankind had made in science, but luckily occurred to
Mr Horrox, without any thing that we know to di¬
rect him, or perhaps from causes almost unknown to
himself. Thus, also, the steam engine, aerostation, &c.
were suddenly invented only by a slight review of prin¬
ciples well known before, and which had been a thou¬
sand times overlooked by those who might have invent¬
ed both. Alphabetic writing, therefore, might have
been no deduction from hieroglyphic or picture writ¬
ing, from which it is essentially different} and it seems
to he some confirmation of this, that all nations who
ever pretended to the invention of letters, have ascribed
it to the labours of one particular person, without taking
notice of the progress made towards it in preceding
ages.
The learned author of Hermes informs us, that to Of the ek-
about 20 plain elementary sounds we owe that variety mcntaO'
of articulate voices which have been sufficient to ex- 0t
plain the sentiments of such an innumerable multitude
as all the past and present generations of men. Mr
Sheridan says, that the number of simple sounds in our
tongue is 28 } while Dr Kenrick says, that we have
only II distinct species of articulate sounds, which even
by contraction, prolongation, and composition, are in¬
creased only to the number of 16; every syllable or ar¬
ticulate sound in our language being one of the number.
Bishop Wilkins and Dr William Holder speak of 33
distinct sounds.
After the analysis or decomposition of language in¬
to the elementary sounds, the next step towards the nota¬
tion of it by alphabetical characters, would be the de¬
lineation of a separate mark or letter to represent each
sound j which marks, though few in number, would
admit of such a variety of arrangements and combina¬
tions, as might be capable of producing that infinity
of articulate sounds which compose language. The
ingenious Wachter, in his Natureset Scriptures Concur-
dia, p. 64. endeavours to show, that ten marks or cha¬
racters are sufficient, for this purpose. His scheme is as
follows :
[ 731 ]
4 Z 2
Genus,
ALP
Alphabet.
Genus.
Vocal.
Guttural.
Lingual.
Lingual.
Lingual.
Dental.
Labial.
Labial.
Labial.
Nasal.
Figura.
O
3 *
nn
Potestas.
a. e. i. o. u.
k. c. ch.
q. g. h.
1.
d. t.
b. p.
s. ph. v. w.
[ 732 ] ALP
Consonants divided into Mutes and Semivowels.
6 Mutes, eb ed eg ek ep et.
3 Pure Mutes, ek ep et.
3 Impure, eb ed eg.
13 Semivowels, § ef el em en ess ev ez etlf eth
or liquids, \ esh ezh ing.
9 Vocal, el em en er ev ez eth ezh ing.
4 Aspirated,
AlpfeebaL
ef ess etll esh.
different
alphabets.
If this is the case, then the most simple alphabet,
which consisted only of 13 letters, must have been abun¬
dantly sufficient to answer all the purposes of mankind,
and much of our twenty-four letter alphabet may ap¬
pear superfluous. That able mathematician Tacquet
has calculated the various combinations of the 24 let¬
ters, even without any repetition, to amount to no
fewer than 620,448,401,733,239,439,360,000; while
Clavius makes them only 5,852,616,738,497,664,000.
Either of these numbers, however, is infinite to the hu¬
man conceptions, and much more than sufficient to ex¬
press all the sounds that ever were articulated by man.
As there are more sounds in some languages than in
Kumber of others, it follows of course that the number of elemen-
fetters in tary characters or letters must vary in the alphabets of
different languages. The Hebrew, Samaritan, and Sy¬
riac alphabets, have 22 letters; the Arabic 28; the
Persian, and Egyptian or Coptic, 32; the present Rus¬
sian 41 ; the Shanscrit 50; while the Cashmirian and
Malabaric are still more numerous. The following is
the scheme of the English alphabet, as given by Mr
Sheridan in his Rhetorical Grammar, p. 9.
Number of simple sounds in our tongue 28.
312 32 3111
9 r owels, aaaeo oeiu
hall hat hate beer note noose bet sit but
W y
short 00 short ee
19 Consonants,^eh ef eS e[en} en, 9 cr es
' et ev ez eth eth esh ezh ing.
3 Superfittous, c, which has the power of ek or ess :
q, that of ek before u.
3 Compound, j, which stands for edz/i;
x, for ks or g‘z.
I No letter, h9 merely a mark of aspiration.
3
Divided again into
4 Labial, eb ep ev ef.
8 Dental, ed et etli eth ez ess ezh esh.
4 Palatine, eg ek el er.
3 Nasal, em en ing.
^ r
Mr Sheridan observes, that our alphabet is ill cal-lmpe»f«e~
culated for the notation of the P'.nglish tongue, as there tion in tJi«
are many sounds for which we have no letters orEns'bkal-
marks : and there ought to be nine more characters
or letters to make a complete alphabet, in which
every simple sound ought to have a mark peculiar to
itself. The reason of the deficiency is, that the Ro¬
man alphabet was formerly adopted for the notation of
the English language, though by no means suited to
the purpose.
It now remains only to take some notice of the forms Of tic
of the different letters; some knowledge of which
absolutely necessary for ascertaining the age and au-
thenticity of inscriptions, manuscripts, charters, and
ancient records. Many authors are of opinion, that
letters derive their forms from the positions of the or¬
gans of speech in their pronunciation. Van Helmont
has taken great pains to prove, that the Chaldaic cha¬
racters are the genuine alphabet of nature ; because,
according to him, no letter can be rightly sounded
without disposing the organs of speech into an uniform
position with the figure of each letter; and in support
of this system, he has anatomized the organs of articu¬
lation.
Mr Nelme has endeavoured to show, that all elemen¬
tary characters or letters derive their forms from the
line and the circle. His alphabet consists of 13 radical
letters, four diminished and four augmented.—The
radicals are L, O, S, A, B, C, D, N, U, I, E, M, R.
—H, according to him, is derived from A; P from
B ; T from D ; and F from U : these are called di¬
minished letters. The augmented ones are, Z from S ;
G from C; W from U; and Y from I. He proves
that his characters are very similar to those of the an¬
cient Etruscans : but all characters are composed either
of lines and circles of the former, or parts of the
latter.—Mr Gebelin deduces them from hieroglyphic
representations ; and has given several delineations ef
human figures, trees, &c. in confirmation of his hypo¬
thesis.
One of the most simple alphabets has been formed
by making two perpendicular and two horizontal lines :
a|b|c
Thus, d|o|f. From which may be
g!hli-
deduced nine different characters or letters : Thus,
J y B E'ii iM F
Nine
Pl.'fle XV.
117 T/ vm t * \WtIp (
Ts
Q
k
isaj
T
Y
Plate XVI.
Ttnuawi.
IVtorman
A
13
Gk
D
E
V
Z
H
ThJ
I
K
E
M
E
S
o
p
Ts
Q
:r
ScE
T
V
4
1c
5 9/
9
□
2
>;
tin n
j j <3
bs
/ I
© o
£
prr
y
2 7^
3 3 ^
V V
d
6> ©
©
\ \
)( >l ^
w
l/l K
1^2
0 10
I
11^1
O'i'csrzi.
Aj'cadian
R
a
CH »
C >
3
p 8
□ □
^ i
4
HI
M
A A
6 D
E /T
V V
H
n
C
V A
At A\
X AA
ss
p p
X 1
2
T
r o
Q2
^ A
rx
7 X
&zT/i (nifty:
A
B
C
E
E
P
Gh.
Tk
I
K
L
M
A"
O
P
Q
R
S
T
V
Y
A/5 A.
CC 6
6 (T
CG g
rv.?
00
II H
K
M KA
rr p
CO CO
TJ T'
'l
pp
A ^
1 TT
yvv'
y
fhemrium /fd’/f-
an/nj: Yre Sainaz'itarnmi.
t F y<A, A X J t
aiJ>y -^g
yrg.o-J^s'm
141 g A 1-y
O'X ^ 3
^ x
s^4 g b
*^(7 G>
A^ © ^ V v A A A
I L Xn/V2\-=r/ Z
g yj H-j eg uf uf
-9 g y g A ^itf y y
SA®G<>Q^^Oo
A
R
Gk
I)
E
vi
rvF\
z
H
E
Tk
I
E
;l
M
X"
S
o
p
01 j J4 a Zc>3 4
|jj T) 04 ^3 jxs
^ 'T Y^V§fpp|Q
\'l'\ '1 M<!-/.Vl<| I!
^vew -• HUM W 'S. !.j
0' A • \ Vv-'X/ -I
yfn/'ratYtni* rrtri vn/t
A
B
GK
D
E
F
V
Z
H
Tli
T
K
E
M
A
a
l,^5'ai^)»
<3 -lad ddd
\'\Vi^drri
ita/y4\
vyy v <iyy
? *3 S cf cf
p 6 e G offlS
® © <3 004^
i\ i if )n \
>1 XXH I IH
3 J7 9 v 4 A ■>
(Mid: f JJ
w\ w A1 m
n TTT HI m y
w id n ^ i-ih
l 1 tf 24 3
X X 3 JSioo
?g
41 ’» r-,:>n
Pi! 0 0$too©
1 8 <S O SJC^
Ts! ^ / 3 y ri
Q! XQ9 ydv
n | q 3 3a <f
’ /OX-t U -G
xy^Tti-r
Sri,
■p
o
FAX
HCTrain Sculp?
; Aiph
Yew 1;
ftiifei
Tiateil
JkDo
A L p r 733 T ALP
Alphabet Nine more may be made by adding a point to each,
Aipherr. ^ | ] | 'V
n | 0 | P j and as many more as may be sufficient for the
q | r I f
notation of any language, by adding two or more points
to each character. Though these square characters are
not calculated for despatch j yet they may be made as
expeditiously, or more so, than the Tartar, the Bramin,
the Cashmirian, or many others. Writing composed of
these characters, is at first sight somewhat like the He-
New Ian- brew.—Mr Dow, author of the History of Indostan,
jpiage in- lately formed a new language and alphabet. This lan-
rented by guage, and the characters formed for its notation, were
Dow. go eaSy^ t[iat a fema]e 0f hjg acquaintance acquired the
knowledge of them in three weeks, and corresponded
with him therein during their intimacy.
ALPH^ENIX, white barley-sugar, to which is giv¬
en an extraordinary name, to render it more valuable.
This sugar, which is thought good for colds, is made
of common sugar, which is boiled until it becomes
easy to crack, when they pour it upon a marble table,
greased with oil of sweet almonds, and mould it into
various figures with a brass crotchet. It is easily falsi¬
fied with starch.
ALPHERY, Mikipher, an English divine, was
born in Russia, and of the imperial line. When that
country was distracted by intestine commotions, in the
latter end of the 16th century, and the royal house
particularly was so severely persecuted by impostors,
this gentleman and his two brothers were sent over to
England, and recommended to the care of Mr Joseph
Bidell a Russia merchant. Mr Bidell, when they were
of age fit for the university, sent them to Oxford,
where the smallpox unhappily prevailing, two of them
died of it. We know not whether this surviving bro¬
ther took any degrees or not, but it is very probable
he did, since he entered into holy orders $ and in the
year 1618, was presented to the rectory of Wooley in
Huntingdonshire, a living of no very considerable va¬
lue, being rated under lol. in the king’s books. Here
he did his duty with great cheerfulness and alacrity 5
and although he was twice invited back to his native
country by some who would have ventured their ut¬
most to have set him on the throne of his ancestors, he
chose rather to remain with his flock, and to serve
God in the humble station of a parish priest. Yet in
1643, l,e underwent the severest trials from the rage
of the fanatics j who, not satisfied with depriving him
of his living, insulted him in the most barbarous man¬
ner j for, having procured a file of musqueteers to
pull him out of his pulpit, as he was preaching on a
Sunday, they turned his wife and small children into
the street, into which they also threw his goods. The
poor man in this distress raised a tent under some trees
in the churchyard, over against his house, where he
and his family lived for a week. One day having got¬
ten a few eggs, he picked up some rotten wood and
dry sticks, and with these made a fire in the church-
porch, in order to boil them ; but some of his adversa¬
ries, to show how far they could carry their rage against
the church (for this poor man was so harmless they
could have none against him), came and kicked about
hie fire, threw down his skillet, and broke his eggs.
After this, having still a little money, he made a small Alpfrery
purchase in that neighbourhood, built a house, and lived [j
there some years. He was encouraged to this by the AlphonsiK.
Presbyterian minister, who came in his room, who ho- * 1""‘'
nestly paid him the fifth part of the annual income of
the living, which was the allowance made by parliament
to ejected ministers, treated him with great humanity,
and did him all the services in his power. It is a great
misfortune that this gentleman’s name is not preserved,
his conduct in this respect being the more laudable, be¬
cause it was not a little singular. Afterwards, proba¬
bly on the death or removal of this gentleman, Mr Al-
phery left Huntingdonshire, and came and resided at
Hammersmith till the Restoration put him in possession
of his living again. He returned on this occasion to
Huntingdonshire, where he did not stay long j for be¬
ing upwards of 80, and withal very infirm, he could
not perform the duties of his function. Having, there¬
fore, settled a curate, he retired to his eldest son’s house
at Hammersmith, where soon after he died, much ho¬
noured and respected, and affording a remarkable in- <
stance of the vicissitudes of the world.
ALPHEUS, (Strabo) j Alpheius, (Ptolemy) ; a
noted and large river of the Peloponnesus; which, rising
m, and after several windings running through, Arca»r
dia, and by Olympia in Elis, with a south-west course,
falls into the Sinus Chelonites, about ten miles to the
south of Olympia. It has a common spring with the
Eurotas, at the foot of Mount Parthenius, near the vil¬
lage Asea, (Strabo). The Alpheus and Eurotas mix
and run together for 20 stadia j after which, they enter
asubterraneous passage atMantinea j then again emerge,
the Eurotas in Laconia, and the Alpheus in the terri¬
tory of Megalopolis, (Pausanias). The poets fable
strange things of this river, particularly, that out of
love to the nymph Ai'ethusa, it runs under the sea to Si¬
cily, and bursts out at the fountain of that name in Sy¬
racuse, (Virgil). Its waters were reckoned good in the
leprosy, which is called by the Greeks $ and
hence the name Alpheus. On the banks of this river
the Olympic games were celebrated, to which Pindar
alludes.
Li-
“ Alpheus, thy immortal flood,
On his lord’s triumphant brows
The Olympic wreath bestow’d.”
West’s Pindar.
Pausanias adds, that the Eleans had a law, which con¬
demned any woman to death that should either appear
at the Olympic games, or even cross this river during
that solemnity : and the Eleans add, that the only wo¬
man who transgressed it, had disguised herself in the
habit of a master or keeper of these games, and con¬
ducted her son thither ; but when she saw him come oft’
victorious, her joy made her forget her disguise, so that
her sex was discovered. She was pardoned $ but from
that time a law was made that the keepers should ap¬
pear there naked.
ALPHONSIN, in Surgery, an instrument for ex¬
tracting bullets out of gunshot wounds. This instru¬
ment derives its name from the inventor Alphonsus
Ferrier, a physician of Naples. Its consists of three
branches, which are closed by a ring. When closed
and introduced into the wound, the operator draws
back the ring towards the handle, upon which the
branches .
ALP [ 734 ] ALP
AlpiiouMii, branches opening take hold of the ball j and then the
Alpbonso. ring is pushed from the halt, by which means the branch-
■' v"n l—' es grasp the ball so firmly as to extract it Irom the wound.
ALPHONSO I. king of Portugal, son of Henry of
Burgundy, count of Portugal, grandson of Don Alon¬
so king of Leon and Castile, who, as the dowry of his
wife Theresa, received part of the kingdom of Portu¬
gal. One Egas Munitz had the charge of his edu¬
cation from his father, the duties of which he executed
with fidelity and success. In the year III2 his father
died, leaving him a hoy only three years of age,
when the reins of government and the care of the
infant son fell to his mother Theresa. At the age of
l8 he assumed the sovereign authoi’ity by the advice of
the nobles of Portugal, who were highly offended at
the growing partiality of his mother for Hon Ferdinand
Perez, count of Trastemara j for it was suspected that
she intended to marry him. But Theresa was little
disposed to resign the reins of government. Her party
raised an army, which took the field to oppose the no¬
bility who supported Alphonso} but her adherents
were defeated, herself taken prisoner, and kept in
confinement during the remainder of her life. Not
long after his accession to the throne, his abilities both
to govern and to conquer received a severe trial, in
several arduous enterprises, as well against the king of
Leon and Castile as against the Moorish princes, who
then possessed great part of Spain and Portugal. The
Moorish emperor in Barbary having sent a strong rein¬
forcement to the princes, they were enabled to take the
field with an army far superior to that of Alphonso;
yet he valiantly met them in the plains of Ourique,
and totally defeated their forces. Thus Providence
conferred such a signal favour on the Christian arms as
procured a residence for Christianity in those parts.
The ambitious king of Leon and Castile assumed the
title of emperor of the Spaniards, and entered Portu¬
gal to waste and destroy; but after the emperor had
received a temporary check, the matter was ac¬
commodated, and he withdrew his army. In conse¬
quence of the victory obtained on the plains of Ou¬
rique, Alphonso was instantly proclaimed king j but
the form and constitution of the monarchy was not
settled until the nobility, prelates, and commons had
assembled at Lamago for that purpose in the year
1145. The conquest of Santaren preceded this event,
and was sanctioned by the unanimous concurrence of
the states. The. honour of crowning the king was
conferred upon the archbishop of Braga j and it was
legally provided, that the regal succession should de¬
scend with an uninterrupted succession to the heirs
male of Alphonso. The prelates and nobility, with
the concurrence of the people, instituted a code of laws
consisting of 18 statutes, for the government of the
kingdom. It being proposed whether it was their plea¬
sure that the king should go to Leon and do homage to
that prince or to any other, every man drawing his
sword, exclaimed, “ We are free, and our king is free,
and we owe our liberty to our courage.; and if he shall
at any time submit to such an act, he deserves death,
and shall not either reign over us or among us.’* The
year after his coronation he was married to Matilda,
daughter of Amadeus, count of Maurienne and Savoy ;
*ad lie recovered Lisbon from the hands of the Moors,
3
in the year 1147* A multitude of adventurers being Alpb*#**.
assembled at the mouth of the Tagus in their progress 1 . . j
to the Holy Land, greatly assisted him in this conquest.
After having added six other provinces to his domi¬
nions, he wisely began with industrious activity to re¬
gulate the affairs of his kingdom. In all his great and
benevolent designs he was vigorously seconded by
Matilda, a princess equally celebrated for her great
beauty, mental vigour, and singular piety- With
the prudence of the statesman, and the benevolence
of the man, he laboured as much for the popula¬
tion of his acquired territories as for their increase.
The conjugal felicity of this prince and princess was
greatly enhanced by a numerous offspring, which ena¬
bled him, by great alliances, to strengthen his interests.
His second daughter was married to Don Ferdinand,
king of Leon, who notwithstanding of this alliance, un¬
generously made war on his father-in-law, and took
him prisoner in the field of battle $ but released him,
on the humiliating condition of coming in person to
do homage for his dominions at Leon. In the latter
part of his reign, his son Don Sancho, who inherited
all his father’s military talents, took the lead on seve¬
ral occasions; and in the year 1180, Joseph, king of
Morocco, and emperor of the Almohedes, advancing-
with an army as far as Santaren, he there gained a
glorious victory over him. Such was the consterna¬
tion of the infidels, in consequence of this defeat, that
they left the Portuguese at liberty to improve the in¬
terior part of the country, and to fortify their frontier^
during the whole of the next vear. Worn out with:
care and intense application, Alphonso needed repose,
and had retired to Coimbra, where, after a reign of 57
years, and in the 76th year of his age, he died. In
the church of the holy cross at Coimbra his remains were'
deposited with great funeral solemnity. He was ntv
less than seven feet high ; and his gigantic size and}
his martial ardour have given occasion to many absurdi
and incredible stories concerning his military achiever
ments, so that, in the annals of chivalry, as well as
the records of martial exertions, he sustains a very high,
rank. Two orders of knighthood, that of the Wings,
and that of the Avis, were instituted by him ; and they,
still continue to flourish in that kingdom. At the age-
of 51, when all the faculties of the human mind are it*
full vigour, Don Sancho, his son, succeeded him. {Mod,
Univ. Hist.),
Alphonso U. distinguished by the surname of the?
fiat, was the third king of Portugal, and succeeded
his father at the age of 27 years, in 1212. His ac¬
complished education, and his military and political
talents, were tarnished by his great neglect and ha¬
tred of his brothers and sisters, which involved hint
in many troubles. He, however, commenced hi#
reign with two very popular actions. The one was1
sending a body of infantry to the assistance of the king
of Castile, who fought with uncommon bravery in the
renowned battle of Navas de Tolosa. The other was,
his donation of the castle of Avis to the knightsi of
that order, when the grand-master removed from Evqt
ra, and took up his habitation in that castle. During
the life of his father, he discovered his aversion to the
rest of the family, which induced him to secure the
right of his children from the effects of his resentment
as
ALP [ 735 ] ALP
as much as in his power, by conferring upon them
1—lafge sums of money and jewels, and some of the best
parts of the kingdom. After the death of his father,
however, Alphonso strenuously laboured to convince
them that it was not in the power of his father to se¬
parate or give away any part of his dominions; but all
his urgent eloquence proving unsuccessful, he had re¬
course to arms. The two princesses, his sisters, who
had received by the grant of their father very exten¬
sive and valuable property, upon being attacked by
their brother, implored the interference of the pope,
and also applied to the king of Leon, to grant his pro¬
tection, so that they made a very vigorous defence.
The pope granted the request of the young princesses,
and threatened to excommunicate Alphonso j and from
Galicia, Don Ferdinand entered the dominions of Por¬
tugal to ravage and destroy j but the king prepared to
defend himself against the arms of the king of Leon,
and by specious pretences to evade the excommunica¬
tion of the pope.
Authors are not agreed with respect to the success of
this war, but it is generally supposed that, by the inter¬
ference of these two powerful persons, the domestic af¬
fairs of that house were restored to a certain degree of
tranquillity j however, the departure of the infant Don
Ferdinand to the court of Castile, and of Don Pedro to
another place, strongly indicate that the reconciliation
was far from being perfect. The conduct of the king,
however, produced much diversity of opinion among
the common people of Portugal. Some were induced,
by the arguments of the king, to conclude that it was
not in the power of Don Sancho, the late king, to dis¬
member his kingdom $ and others very properly sus¬
pected the kindness of a prince to his people who dis¬
played such uncommon and such unjustifiable hatred to
his own relations; at the same time, those nobles whom
the father had solemnly sworn to carry his will into ex¬
ecution, regarded the sacred nature of their oaths to
such a degree as induced them to operate against the
reigning prince.
The displeasure of the pope, however, was not to he
endured. The mind of Alphonso seemed indeed to he
of that quality which little regarded the displeasure or
thunders of his holiness-, hut the effects of his threaten-
ings were very different upon the public mind, conse¬
quently the king was constrained to seek the favour of
the pope, to retain the obedience of his subjects. The
king therefore sent deputies to Rome, who argued, that
the crown his father wore was the purchase of the blood
and valour of the Portuguese nation, and therefore not
in his power to alienate ; that it was a dangerous pre¬
cedent, and obviously tended to subvert the sovereignty
of a state ; that the disuniting of the kingdom would
tend to promote the cause of the infidels ; and, in fine,
that his disputes with his sisters had no connexion with
ecclesiastical matters. The pope, however, was as well
qualified to discern the nature of these specious argu¬
ments as the prince was qualified to urge them, conse¬
quently he remained unmoved 5 and Alphonso, in order
to have the sentence of excommunication removed which
had been pronounced upon him, was reluctantly induced
to be reconciled to his sisters. His holiness informed
of the reconciliation, with great ceremony revoked his
curse and excommunication from the king and his sub¬
jects.
But the reign of this prince was destined to troubles j Alphonse.
for no sooner was this domestic broil terminated, than  -
the Moors rushed into the plain country in such prodi¬
gious numbers, that the king found it very difficult to
repel them, or to drive them back to their own coun¬
try. A favourable occurrence, however, enabled him
to complete his object, by the taking of a fortress seat¬
ed on a rock which was deemed impregnable, in the
following manner. The Germans and Flemings had
equipped an immense fleet destined for the Holy Land,
consisting of 300 sail, with a numerous army on board.
In consequence of tempestuous weather, their fleet was
so disabled, that they were forced to put into the
harbour of Lisbon to refit, just at the time when Al¬
phonso was preparing an army to attack the Moors.
The king instantly sent some of the most respecta¬
ble men of his court to solicit their aid against
the Moors, alleging, that it was perfectly consistent
with their vows to fight against the Moors in Portu¬
gal, as well as in the Holy Land. William earl of
Holland, and many other generals, were convinced by
this argument, and cheerfully engaged to join him
against the infidels ; but about a third part of the
fleet refused to join, and proceeded on their voy¬
age. It happened, however, that they were driven
by a violent storm into Italy, where they wintered.
The greater part of the nobility and gentry landed
under the conduct of William earl of Holland ; and
it was resolved that they should proceed by sea, and
block up Alca^ar-do-Sal, the fortress already men¬
tioned, while the army of Alphonso, reinforced by
a considerable number, should march by land $ and
thus attack the place both by land and sea at once.
The Moors, convinced of the importance of this place,
brought an army into the field consisting of 50,000
men ; but the Christians raised the siege, gave them
battle, and routed them with great slaughter; and some
of the chiefs of the Moors fell in the field. The for¬
tress surrendered on the 2ist of October 1217, and was
conferred upon the order of St James ; but notwith¬
standing of very urgent entreaties, the pope would not
permit the army to winter in Portugal. He was desi¬
rous of having these troops and their general removed
to a greater distance. The writers of that nation affirm
that the soldiers experienced supernatural aid in this
battle, and that the banner of the cross was actually
displayed by angels.
But civil animosity succeeded to infidel war. The
archbishop of Braga was highly offended that the clergy
were forced to pay money and furnish troops to carrv
ou the war against the infidels; and the people severe¬
ly complained of the strictness of the laws. To chas¬
tise the rebellious clergy, the king seized upon the re¬
venues of the bishop, and forced him to fly from bis
dominions. Enraged at this impious conduct, the
pope excommunicated the king, and laid his kingdom
under an interdict. The natural consequence was,
that all things were thrown into confusion, and conster¬
nation and perplexity universally prevailed ; so that
Alphonso was obliged to consult measures to quell
the rising discontent. It happened, however, that in
the midst of these negociations he was removed by
death, and not only died under the papal maledidiction,
but left his kingdom under the same curse. He was
interred without royal honours in the conventual
church
ALP [ 736 ] ALP
Alplionso. church of Alcoba^a. His person was above the com-
   naon size he was brave and strong, but not devoid of
many qualities worthy of blame. (Mod. Umv. Hist.)
Alphonso III. Don, king of Portugal, succeeded
his brother Don Sancho II. in the year 1248. In the
course of a war with the Moors, which he engaged in
at the beginning of his reign, he considerably extended
the Portuguese dominions. He took possession of the
city of Para, the capital of the Moorish kingdom, in
the province of Algarve. Loula, another Moorish
town, which was carried by storm, also fell into his
hands. His power was thus extended abroad by the
success of his arms, and the administration of his aflairs
at home became prosperous and popular by his wisdom
and prudence. But the tranquillity and prosperity ot
the kingdom was somewhat disturbed by an interdict
which it was put under by Pope Alexander IV. whose
displeasure he had incurred by marrying Donna Bea¬
trix, the natural daughter of Don Alonso the Wise,
king of Castile, while his first wife was living. In 1262,
when bis first queen died, the interdict was removed by
Pope Urban, a dispensation was granted, and the chil¬
dren of Donna Beatrix were legitimated. Hitherto
frequentdisputes had occurred between the kings of Por¬
tugal and Castile relating to the boundaries of the two
kingdoms. To terminate all differences on this subject,
and to prevent them in future, commissioners were ap¬
pointed to define and settle the limits of their respec¬
tive dominions ; and these were agreed to and ac¬
knowledged by a solemn deed.
Encouraged by the prosperity of his kingdom, and
by the success which had attended his enterprises, Al¬
phonso made an attempt to extend the influence of the
crown, by obliging the clergy to contribute to the wel¬
fare of the state. But this measure, as might have been
expected, was not quietly submitted to. It occasioned
the revival of old disputes, the pope interfered, and in
1268 the kingdom was again laid under an interdict.
He succeeded, by the wisdom of his negociations, in
obtaining from Castile an exemption of all claims upon
the crown of Portugal, and in procuring an acknow¬
ledgement that its rnonarchs were entirely relieved from
the performance of every kind of homage. He died
in the year 1279, *n ^ie 69th year of his age, and in
the 31st of his reign. Before his death, he was recon¬
ciled to the pope and clergy, having made a full and
ample submission. This prince was tall in stature, of a
prepossessing aspect, and of engaging manners. Alike
removed from a disposition to extravagant expence or
sordid avarice, in times of peace and prosperity he could
indulge in magnificence •, but when his affairs required
it, he failed not to regulate them by frugality and eco¬
nomy. I o the poor he was a sincere friend. In a time
of scarcity he pawned his crown to provide them with
bread. His steady and vigorous administration secured
to him the respect of the nobles and the obedience
of the clergy. (Mod. XJniv. Hist.)
Alphonso IV. king of Portugal, surnamed the
Brave, was the son of King Denis. Instigated, it
is said, by the queen dowager of Castile, and moved
with jealousy against his natural brother Alphonso
Sanchez, he revolted against his father, and com¬
menced a civil war. In this unnatural and base war,
he was justly unsuccessful; but although he was re¬
duced to subjection, yet his haughty and ungovernable
temper broke out in many occurrences, until he sue- Alphons®,
ceeded his father in 1324. Hunting was his favourite
amusement at the time when he ascended the throne •,
and one day entertaining his counsellors with a narra¬
tive of his sporting adventures during a month, one of
them ventured to remonstrate against his conduct, and
even proceeded to threaten, that if the grievances of
his subjects were not speedily redressed, they would
be forced to look out for a better king. Alphonso
was greatly enraged j but suddenly recollecting him¬
self, he said “ 1 perceive the truth of your remark;
he cannot long have subjects who will not be a king.
Remember that from this day you have nothing to do
with Alphonso the sportsman, but with Alphonso the
king of Portugal.” To this resolution he strictly ad¬
hered, and exercising the power of a despot, he over¬
awed his subjects, without conciliating their favour or
procuring their esteem. He displayed a conduct very
singular in a young man, regarding those who had so
vigorously opposed him when at war with his father, as
friends to the crown, although enemies to the young
ambitious prince. He commenced his reign with de¬
vising plans for the security of his family in the govern¬
ment, and the good of the kingdom ; he likewise ma¬
nifested a strong benevolence of heart, in his affection
for his consort Queen Beatrix, and his dutiful conduct
towards his mother. Notwithstanding all those amiable
qualities, he persecuted his brother Alonzo Sanchez,
and wished to inflict the punishment due to him as a
proscribed traitor j which drove the desperate Alon¬
zo to open rebellion. But, however, the natural
good qualities of the heart of the king rose superior 5
so that his persecuted brother was again received into
favour. Not long after he engaged in war with Alon¬
zo XI. king of Castile, and which, after several severe
struggles with various success on both sides, terminated
in an alliance, and in effectual assistance against the
Moors. The artful and cruel part which he acted to¬
wards Donna Agnes de Castro, the mistress and con¬
cealed wife of his son, reflected the greatest disgrace
upon his character. It is proper, however, to remark,
that he was instigated to the murder of this princess by
his' courtiers. It was not therefore to be wondered at
if his son was induced by this act to rise up in open re¬
bellion against him, but the arms of his father were
too formidable ; and after his submission, his father
treated him with particular marks of attention. In¬
structed by the growing infirmities of years, he saw
the termination of his reign and his life approaching.
He began to compensate for his past errors and faults,
by establishing acts of piety and benevolence, by re¬
dressing grievances, by restraining immorality through
the establishment of pious laws, by dictating salutary
maxims for the government of the state, by removing
those from the seats of power, who were the most likely
to become the objects of resentment after his death : he
thus laboured to efface from the remembrance of his
son the insult which he had received. While concert¬
ing these conciliatory measures, he died in May 1357,
in the 33d year of his reign, and the 67th of his
age, “ with the character of an undntiful son, an un¬
natural brother, and a cruel father.” But in many re¬
spects he deserves the character of a great man and
a great king, brave and fortunate in war, but artful
and indirect in his political measures, attached to his
subjects,
*
.. . . A L p t ;
AiplioHsa. subjects, strict in the administration of justice, attentive
‘ public welfare, and assiduous in encouraging in¬
dustry, and enriching his people.” But after all, it must
be acknowledged, that though be was feared, and even
esteemed, he was not much honoured nor beloved, but
was rather reverenced for a proper use of power, than
relied upon as a public parent. His character is per¬
haps exjiressed in his device, which was an eagle on the
wing, with the following motto, Altiora peto, “ laim at
higher things.”
Alphonso \. Don, king of Portugal, was born in
I432> ‘ind, on account of his heroic deeds, obtained
the surname of the. AJvican. At the age of six years
he succeeded his father King Edward. The admini¬
stration of the affairs of the kingdom during his mino¬
rity, was entrusted to his uncle Hon Pedro, who al¬
though his public conduct met with general approba¬
tion, was persecuted as a traitor at the expiration of his
regency, and with several persons who were attached
to his interest, and involved in his misfortunes, was
put to death. Hie young king had married the daugh¬
ter of the regent 5 but even his influence, which was
overpowered by the regent’s enemies, could not save
him from persecution. Afterwards indeed he did ju¬
stice to his memory, and discovered an unusual mark
of respect and attachment to his queen, by abstaining
from all connection with the sex after her death, which
happened in 1455* ani^ has been supposed, was oc¬
casioned by poison, administered by the enemies of her
father.
Alphono aspired to the acquisition of military glory.
In the year 1458, he made great preparations to at¬
tack the Moors in Barbary. He assembled an army
of 20,000 men, and equipped a fleet of 200 sail. He
first directed his arms against Alcazer, which soon fell
into his hands £ and to maintain the footing which he
had gained, he furnished this place with a strong gar¬
rison. For 12 years he prosecuted the war in Barba¬
ry with various success, in that time reduced Arzila
and Tangier, and in 1740 returned to Portugal load¬
ed with honours. It was then he obtained the sur¬
name of African, and to the titles which he derived
From his ancestors, added that of lord of the coasts of
both seas. And with a view to perpetuate the memo¬
ry of these exploits and conquests, he caused a repre¬
sentation of them to be wrought in tapestry, a monu¬
ment surely constructed of very frail materials, but
not less durable than many which have been erected
fey ambition and vanity. During the war in Africa, a
military order denominated the knights of the sword
was founded.
Alphonso was less successful in supporting the claim
of his niece Donna Joanna to the crown of Castile
against Ferdinand and Isabella. Finding his own re¬
sources unequal to the contest in which he was en¬
gaged, he took a journey to France to solicit the aid
of Eewis XI. But his solicitations proved fruitless ;
and the mortification which he experienced from this
faithless monarch, filled him with melancholy, and in¬
duced him to resign his crown for the purpose of mak¬
ing a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. The administra¬
tion of affairs during his absence, was committed to
the hands of his son Don Juan, who governed the king¬
dom with great ability. When the king returned, he
was joyfully received by the prince, and reinstated in
Vol. I. Part II. +
'37 ] ALP
his authority. But the mind of Alphonso had lost its
wonted vigour, and was unfit to resume the arduous
duties of government. Oppressed still with a deep me¬
lancholy, he determined at length to withdraw from
the cares of a kingdom, and to end his days in the re¬
pose and quiet of a monastery. But on his journey to
the place of his retirement, he was seized with the
plague at Cintra, where he died in the year 1481,
in the 43d year of his reign, and the 49th of his
age. 1 he moderation, the prqdence and wisdom, which
this prince exhibited in his public conduct, were not
moie powerful in conciliating thepoveand veneration
of 1ns subjects, and of all good men, than were the
amiable virtues of his private character. He was dE
stinguished for his affability and condescension, his be¬
nignity and bounty, and especially for his unbounded
charity. In the exercise of this latter virtue, he was
honoured with the title of redeemer of the captives, in
consequence of his having procured the freedom of
many prisoners, whose ransom he cheerfully paid.
Nor was he less eminent for his chastity and temper¬
ance, his attachment to letters, and his love and en¬
couragement of learning. The first library in the pa¬
lace of the kings of Portugal was founded in his time*
He established and vindicated against the pretensions
and hostile attempts of the Spaniards, a very profitable
trade on the coast of Guinea, which country, was dis¬
covered during his reign, under the auspices of his uncle
Don Henry, a celebrated character of that age. (Mod.
Univ. Hist.}.
Alphonso VI. Don Enriquez,, king of Portugal,
ascended the throne when only a child of thirteen years
of age. It is not easy to conceive a kingdom in a
more perilous situation than this at the death of Don
John. The young king was remarkable for weakness
of body, and imbecility of mind ; the regency in the
hands of a woman, and that woman a Castilian ; the
nation involved in war, and this respecting the title to
the crown 5 many of the nobility engaged in feuds
and contentions with each otherj and some of them se¬
cretly disaffected to the reigning family $ so that the
queen scarcely knew to whom she could trust, or by
whom she was to be obeyed. A very indecent joy
was manifested by the people on the king’s death, as if
his death was the dissolution of government : but the
great abilities of the queen, and the vigorous measures
which she adopted, soon changed the face of affairs.
For her own safety, and the prosperity of the king¬
dom, she appointed Don Francisco de Faro, count of
Odemira, of the house of Braganza, governor to the
king, and one of her principal ministers of state $
and she made choice of Don Antonio de Meneses,
count de Castenheda, to be his coadjutor. The former
was a person in high repute among the nobility, in
great favour with the people, entirely devoted to the
interests of the queen, possessed of a large estate, and
far advanced in years j the latter was also an aged
man of great talents, and equally capable to preside in
the cabinet, and to command in the field. As might
naturally be expected, these men sometimes differed in
opinion 5 but this difference never hurt the cause of the
queen. Seconded, protected, and counselled by such
able men, the nation began to feel the effects of the
queen’s firmness and superior talents.
The first important exertion of the queen was, to
j A send
Aiplioflso.
4?
ALP [ 738 ] ALP
Alpbonsft. send express orders to the count de San Ijorenzo, who
..I.y-,..,, i commanded on the frontiers, to act offensively j but
the measure, though prudent in itself, was not attend¬
ed with the desired success. About this time, how¬
ever, the duke de St Germain, an Italian officer in the
service of Spain, entered Portugal, besieged and took
Olivenza and the castle of Moran. In consequence of
this, the general was dismissed, and his place was filled
by Juan Mendez Vasconcelles, a man in great favour
with the troops, and universally popular. He engaged
to act also upon the offensive, but being unsuccessful,
he was only saved from punishment, by his simple and
candid defence *, in which he says, “ that he had under¬
taken the siege in obedience to the order of the queen,
and for the honour of the nation ; and that he had rai¬
sed it without orders, for the preservation of the army j
that he knew the hazard he run when he did it, but
that it gave him pleasure to think, that at the hazard,
or even the loss, of his reputation and life, the troops
of Portugal had been saved.” He was declared inno¬
cent and worthy of the queen’s favour, by the coun¬
cil of war who presided. Hon Sancho Manuel, who
commanded in Elvas, and defended it with equal bra¬
very and conduct, showed himself to be an officer of
a considerable degree of judgment, by his hazarding
nothing more when he had performed his service, upon
which the very being of the state depended j but it
was the count de Castanheda who raised that siege,
and forced the army of Spain in their lines. After
some other political measures, some of them more and
some of them less important •, the queen regent finished
in a manner, her administration, with the marriage of
her only daughter, the princess Catharine, once in¬
tended for Lewis XIV. with Charles II. king of Great
Britain, one of the most fortunate events that ever
happened for Portugal j since it immediately procured
them the protection of the English fleets, reinforcements
of some thousands of horse and foot ; besides adding
much reputation to their affairs throughout Europe j
which wras the reason that the Spanish court opposed it
with so much heat, or rather passion By the vigorous
exertions and fortunate victories of Montesclaros, the
war was soon terminated to the honour of Portugal.
The sixth and last victory in the course of 28 years,
was obtained by the marquis de Marialva, which was
chiefly owing to unforeseen accidents, and the deter¬
mined courage of foreign troops, and to the great abi¬
lities of Schomberg. This victory determined the fate
ftf the kingdom, though not of the sovereign $ and it
was easy to be seen by the more intelligent sort of peo-
le in Portugal, that the king would sooner or later be
eposed.
Alphonso being struck with the palsy while a child,
rendered it necessary to treat him with indulgence, on
account of his weak state of health ; consequently, as he
*ose to maturity, his want of parts, and the defects in
fois education, were very perceptible. It is alleged
that a greater aflection was shown by the queen his
mother, to the infant Don Pedro, and that she endea¬
voured, at the time of their father’s decease, to insi¬
nuate into the nobles an idea of preferring him 5 but
ihey universally declined to make a breach in the suc¬
cession, declaring it was difficult to make an estimate
«f the powers of a king who was then only a child.
The queen yielded, and endeavoured by every pro¬
per means to make him worthy of a crown, which, by Alpbeas*,
birth, he was entitled to wear. The count de Ode- ' "v immJ
mira, whb was charged with his education, found it a
very difficult task to manage the young prince, who
forgetful of his birth and destination, was prone only
to those amusements which the youth of his age were
accustomed to. His guardian and preceptor struggled
with this disposition, and even ventured to take some
pretty severe measures 5 but to his great mortification,
it proved entirely abortive. Education can only im¬
prove, but can never confer mental abilities. Yet he
was quick enough to perceive he was a king, which
proved very fatal to him. Those who approached his
person complied with his follies, and even commend¬
ed the most absurd actions ; and those who were inde¬
pendent of the court inveighed against him in the
strongest terms, and, because guilty of some childish
actions, they ascribed to him all the cruel and foolish
accidents which happened in Lisbon. Unfortunately,
however, for his adversaries, many of these actions,
such as fighting of dogs, scouring the streets, encoun¬
tering three men alone, running at a bull, and such
like, indicate no want of strength or courage. A
variety of facts that might be mentioned, are sufficient
evidence that his natural dispositions were weak, wild,
refractory, and unteachable; and that although he was
born to reign, yet he was destitute of the qualities ab¬
solutely necessary in a prince. The direful conse¬
quences of this having been for some time experi¬
enced by the nation, the nobles at last were driven to
the resolution of deposing the king, and exalting Don
Pedro to the regency. In the morning of the next
day after the determination, the marquis de Cascaes,
at the head of the council, went to the ]>alace to pro¬
pose the resignation to the king. The king was in
bed and fast asleep: the marquis ordered him to be
awakened, arid knocked violently at the door for that
purpose ; and when he had obtained admission, he is
said to have upbraided him in very coarse terms for his
laziness and inattention to public affairs at so critical a
conjuncture ; adding, that since he must be sensible o£
his want of abilities to govern a kingdom, the wisest
method he could adopt was, to resign it in favour of
his brother. The king absolutely refuse^ to consent:
but not long after, Don Pedro coming to the palace,
ordered him to be confined in his apartment, where one
of his favourites persuaded him, in the hope of being
set at liberty, to make a short renunciation of the
crown in favour of his brother Don Pedro, and his
lawful issue, reserving the house of Braganza and its
dependencies, together with 100,000 crowns out of
the revenue of the crown. Nor was this deemed suf¬
ficient : for a paper was presented to him, making him
avow, that for want of consummation, his marriage was
null. This he at first declined $ but, by the advice of
some divines, he was prevailed on to subscribe the
deed. When evening drew on, the unhappy king then
perceived he was a prisoner $ upon which he sent to
request his brother to let him have John, who mana¬
ged his dog-kennel, to keep him company. When
Don Pedro heard it, losing his usual calmness, he burst
into a violent fit of passion, and instantly gave or¬
ders, that those who were the most agreeable to him,
should remain in his apartment. Such was the situ¬
ation of affairs until the meeting of the states. But
I
ALP [ •739 ] ALP
41phens». in the mean time, the unfortunate Don Alphonso died,
t—--v— > after he had been a prisoner near fifteen years,
suddenly in the castle of Cintra, on the 12th of Sep¬
tember, when he had borne the title of king al¬
most twenty-seven, and had lived about forty years.
It is reported, that he said in his last agonies, “ I am
now going; but it will not be long before the queen
shall follow me, to give an account at the most awful
tribunal, of the wrongs she has done me.” {Mod.
Univ. Hist.)
Alphonso III. the Great, king of Asturias, was
born in 847, and succeeded his father Ordogno in 865.
In consequence of the rebellion of Don Frolia, not long
after his accession to the throne, he was forced to leave
his kingdom; but that usurper being assassinated, with
universal applause he returned to his throne. In many
successful enterprises against the Moors, in which he
greatly enlarged his territories, he soon displayed the
talents of a warlike and able prince. He formed a
powerful alliance against the Moors, by marrying Xi-
mene or Chimene, descended from the house of Na¬
varre, which paved the way fora long series of victories.
The great attention which he paid to the comfort and
welfare of the common people, greatly disgusted his
haughty nobles j which excited them to revolt against
him in the advanced part of his life. Enjoying a small
interval of tranquillity from the distraction and tumults
•f war, he called a general council of the clergy and
nobility, enacted some useful regulations, and directed
their attention to several other subjects, which contribu¬
ted to the honour and happiness of his kingdom. Whilst
he was busily occupied in repairing some of those towns
which he had taken from the Moors, he was suddenly
interrupted by them, and was under the necessity of
defending himself with a considerable army, which he
did with such success, that they were defeated with
great loss. The unnatural rebellion of his son Don
Garcias, at this time, greatly disturbed his government j
but by the diligence of the father, this unnatural rebel¬
lion was soon quelled. The confinement of Garcias, and
the new imposition of taxes, produced general murmurs
among the people j which induced Alphonso, now worn
out with years and incessant contentions, to assemble
the states, and resign the reins of government into the
hands of his son Don Garcias. He gave to his other
son Don Ordogno the province of Galicia. The ambi¬
tious and military spirit which Don Garcias discovered
in his father’s reign, soon displayed itself in an attack
on the Moors. By the advice of his father, to which
he prudently listened, he was taught that these new
conquests tended more to enrich the soldiers, than to
the advantage of the crown. Alphonso, although far
advanced in years, took upon himself the command of
the army raised for new operations, and returned to
Zamora loaded with spoils, and with increased reputa¬
tion and fame, in the year 912. He died December
2.0. 912, two years after his abdication, 46 years
from the time of his being associated with his father in
the government, and when he was about 64 or 65 years
of age. His great learning, and the patronage he gave
to literature, his distinguished piety and virtue, and other
princely qualities, raised this king high in the estima¬
tion of mankind. Some writers affirm that he com¬
posed a chronicle of the Spanish affairs, from the death
of ilecesuintho, to that of his own father Don Ordog¬
no, which has been incorrectly published by Sandovel, Alpbons*.
and the later editions have sustained considerable in---y-—.
jury. The bishop of Orensa, at whose request it was
originally composed, published it in his own name to
the world. {Gen. Biog.)
Alphonso X. the Wise, king of Leon and Castile,
succeeded his father Ferdinand in the year 1252. He
obtained the appellation of wise, not for his political
knowledge as a king, but his erudition as a philosopher.
In consequence of the general opinion of his princely
qualities, and his uncommon generosity, he ascended
the throne with universa1 approbation. The ill-con¬
certed projects of his ambition, however, disturbed the
prosperity of his reign. Pretending a better right than
Henry HI. of England to that territory, he directed
his first attempt against Gascony. The arms of Eng¬
land, however, proved too formidable; and he was
compelled to renounce his claim, on condition that
Henry’s son, afterwards King Edward I. should marry
his sister Eleonora. At an expence which drained his
treasures, and obliged him to debase his coin, he pre¬
pared for an expedition against the Moors in Barbary;
but his maternal right to the duchy of Swabia, which
he was called to defend, diverted him from it. Thus
he formed a connexion with the German princes $ and
became a competitor, with Richard earl of Cornwall,
for the imperial crown, in quest of which they both ex¬
pended immense sums of money. The claims of several
of the princes of the blood, gave exercise to his mili¬
tary talents ; and he was successful both in opposing
and defeating them. He formed the romantic design
of visiting Italy in the year 1268 ; but the states firm¬
ly remonstrating, he was obliged to relinquish it. But,
although he abandoned the design, yet it produced
such discontents both among the common people and
conspiracy among the nobles, that it required consider¬
able exertion before the king could allay the ferment.
Alphonso, still anxious of ascending the imperial throne,
attempted it after the death of Richard earl ol Corn¬
wall, and even after Rodolph ofHapsburg was actually
elected emperor of Germany, and for that purpose took
a journey to Beaucaire to obtain an interview with the
pope, in order to prevent him from confirming the elec¬
tion. The Moors, ever ready to draw the sword a-
gainst him, took this opportunity of entering his domi¬
nions for the purpose of ravaging them. This ambi¬
tious journey, undertaken at so vast an expence, and
productive of so much confusion in his kingdom, prov¬
ed unsuccessful j for the pope would not realize his claim,
or alter the former election. But his excessive ambi¬
tion was soon punished by domestic calamity j for his
eldest son died in this interval, and his second son Don
Sanchez, having obtained great reputation in opposing
the infidels, to the prejudice of his brother’s children,
laid claim to the crown. This claim was admitted by
the states of the kingdom ; but Philip king of France,
supporting the cause of the children, whose mother was
his sister Blanche of France, involved Alphonso in a
warj and it occasioned the retreat of his own queen
Yolande or Violante to the court of her father, the king
of Arragon. While thus harassed with dissensions,
he proclaimed war against France, and by the autho¬
rity of the pope he renewed the war with the Moors,
which proved so unfortunate, that he reluctantly con¬
cluded a truce with them, and engaged in a contest
5 A 2 with
ALP
[
Alplionso. with the king of Granada. These various measures
exhausted his treasure j taxes were multiplied, and the
affairs of the kingdom were in such confusion, that he
was under the disagreeable necessity of calling an assem¬
bly of the states, which was held at Seville in the year
1281, where, on the king’s proposal, the states con¬
sented to give a currency to copper money. In conse¬
quence of the intrigues of Don Sanchez his son, an¬
other assembly of the states was held at Valladolid,
A. D. 1282, which deprived Alphonso of the regal
dignity, and appointed Sanchez regent. Reduced to
almost insurmountable difficulties, Alphonso solemnly
cursed and disinherited his son, and by his last will, in
the year 1283, confirmed the act of exclusion, and ap¬
pointed, for the succession, the infants de la Cerda,
and upon the failure of their heirs the kings of France j
and at the same time supplicated the assistance of the
king of Morocco against the power of his son. At the
commencement of the next year, when Alphonso re¬
ceived information from Salamanca, that Sanchez was
dangerously ill, his heart relented. He pardoned his
son, revoked his curses, and then died, on the 4th of
April 1284 in the 81st year of his age. His remains
were interred in the cathedral of Seville 5 and he left
behind him the character of a learned man, but a weak
king. Alphonso has been charged with irreligion and
impiety, chiefly on account of a well-known saying of
his, viz. “ if he had been of God’s privy-council when
he created the world, he could have advised him bet-
ter.” Ihe various contradictory accounts, given by
different writers, render the truth of this doubtful; but
if ever such a horrible saying dropt from his lips, it
must unquestionably be declared inconsistent with the
character of an enlightened philosopher, and that re¬
verence of the Creator which an enlarged contempla¬
tions of his works naturally inspires.
u -An indevout astronomer is mad.” Young.
74o ] ALP
Aben-Said 5 others, pretending to derive information
from the MSS. of Alphonso, refer it to Ahen-Ragee
and Alcabitius. The other astronomers who were em¬
ployed on this occasion were Aben-Musa Mohammed,
Joseph Ben-Ali, and Jacob Abuena, Arabians : if there
were any Christians, their names are unknown. The
30th of May 1232, which was the day of his accession
to the throne, was fixed as the epoch of these tables.
A book, entitled “ The Treasure,” is also ascribed to
him, containing treatises of rational philosophy, physics,
and ethics. He is likewise said to have been well ac¬
quainted with astrology and chemistry $ in which last
science, he is said to have compiled two volumes in ci¬
pher, which are extant, and to be found still in his Ca¬
tholic majesty’s library. But this work must be more
curious than useful, if we consider the state of this sci¬
ence at that period. (Gen. Bing.').
Alphonso V. king of Arragon and Naples, succeed¬
ed his father in the year 1416. As the father had for¬
merly been honoured with the appellation of Just, so
the son was honoured with that of Magnanimous. The
conspiracy of some of his own nobles against his life, to¬
gether with the insolence of Pope Benedict XIII. great¬
ly disturbed the tranquillity of his reign. Fortunately
this conspiracy was discovered just when it was about to
be carried into execution 5 and instead of proceeding
with rigour against the conspirators, he generously tore a
paper containing their names without reading, and add¬
ed, “ that he would at least force them to acknowledge,
that he bad a greater regard for their lives than they
had for his.” After quelling a disturbance in Sardinia,
he was just making preparations to advance to Sicily,
when Joan ot Naples oftered, if he would assist her
against the pope, the duke of Anjou, and the con¬
stable Sforza, who had formed a confederacy to depose
her, to adopt him as her son and heir. He readily ac¬
cepted the proposal, and with a powerful army soon
Alplionsefc
- JL *    ^ X* W M 4 OUUU
He wasan eminent profio^ in science and a pat™ ^
He concluded that book of laws, known bria. But as the queen waf unfaithful, and did not
iulfil her engagements, Alphonso took possession of
Naples, and expelled her from it; but when the duke
of Anjou again entered her territories, and made
himselt master of great part of them, she was obli¬
ged to renew jier solicitations to Alphonso j who, in the
year 1434, involved himself in a quarrel with the
duke of Milan and the republic of Genoa, by be-
sieging Gaeta in a second attempt to conquer Naples.
The Genoese fleet engaged Alphonso j and all his
ships were dispersed or destroyed, and himself taken pri¬
soner. But such was the address of this prince, that
when carried to Milan a prisoner, he there ingratiated
himself so much into the duke’s favour, that he became
his friend and ally, and soon rose to greater power than
formerly.
He got possession of Naples in 1443? and in an assem¬
bly of the states held at Beneventum, and then transfer¬
red to Naples, bis sovereignty was recognized, and
his son, Don lerdinand, declared successor to the
throne, and in consequence of this elevation he was
t eemed the sole arbiter of peace and war through all
of literature.
by the title of Las Partides, which his father ’had be¬
gun ; and m that work displayed the abilities of a po¬
litician as well as those of a legislator. By obliging
his subjects to use their own language, he redressed the
contusion in law proceedings occasioned by intermixino-
Latin with the vulgar tongue. Under his patronage
a general history of Spain was composed, which he
took great pains in polishing j he also corrected many
errors in the statutes of the university of Salamanca.
Astronomy being his favourite study, he chiefly direct¬
ed his attention to the improvement of that science :
S° ®v™d?ri"g the life of his father, he as¬
sembled at Toledo, a number of the most celebrated
astronomers of his time, Christians, Jews, and Arabi¬
ans, from all parts of Europe, for the purpose of ex¬
amining the astronomical tables of Ptolemy, and cor-
rec ing their errors. The completion of these tables
employed them about four years, and in 1252, the first
year of Alphonso s reign, they were completed ; and
hey were cMeA Alphomtne Tables from the name of
this prince, who encouraged the construction of them
by his unbounded liberality. It is reported that
400 000 ducats were expended on them, or, according
to others, 40,000.. Some have ascribed the princinal
management of this work to the Jewish Rabbi Isaac
. taly* Naples became the residence of Alphonso dur¬
ing the remainder of his life y but his declining year*
were much^ disquieted by political dissensions and in¬
ti igues, Ihe natural attendant of jealous old age at
last
Alphonso,
'Atphonsus.
A L p [ 741 J ALP
; and in consternatjon and dread, he- and at Cologne in 1612. Several of his pieces on ec
last seized him
was removed from one castle of Naples to another,
until he breathed his last on the 22d of June 1468, be¬
queathing to his natural son Ferdinand the kingdom of
Naples, and to his brother Don Juan, king of Navarre,
the kingdoms of Arragon, Valencia, Majorca, Sardinia,
Sicily, and the principality and dependencies of Cata¬
lonia. Alphonso was not only deemed the ablest states¬
man, and the most renowned military commander in
that age, but also the greatest prince that ever occupied
the throne of Arragon. He was a distinguished patron
of learning, and opened an asylum for the Greek lite¬
rati expelled from Constantinople. His device was an
open book. He frequently uttered this expression,
“ That an unlettered prince was but a crowned ass.”
He was brave and liberal 5 and in all his negociations
he disdained the mean artifices of intrigue and dissi¬
mulation. It is reported that his perusal of Quintus
Curtius cured him of a disorder with which he was at¬
tacked at Capua. Such was his familiar intercourse
with his subjects, and his affection towards them, that
he walked unarmed and unaccompanied in his capital 5
and was wont to say, “ that a father has nothing to
fear in the midst of his children.” While he was be¬
sieging Gaeta, he dismissed the women and children that
were turned out of the town without any injury, saying,
** That he had rather lose any city in his dominions
than lose the reputation of humanity.” He leaped
into a shallop for the relief of one of his galleys, which
with its whole crew and soldiers was just about to pe¬
rish, exclaiming, “ I had rather share than witness their
calamity.” Such was his generosity, that upon hear¬
ing an officer, who saw his treasurer bringing him
10,000 ducats, exclaiming, “ I should only wish that
sum to make me happy.” “ You shall be so,” said
Alphonso, and gave him the money in a present. He
deemed dancing a certain degree of madness ; but was
strongly addicted to women, whieh involved him in
many dishonourable intrigues, and justly entailed upon-
him the disgrace of an unfaithful husband to a kind and
affectionate queen. (Mod. Univ. Hist.)
ALPHONSUS TOSTATUS, bishop of Avila, a
learned and voluminous Spanish writer. He flourished
about the middle of the 15th century, and by his un¬
common abilities rose to the highest offices both in the
civil and ecclesiastical departments of the state. At the
age of 22 years he finished his studies at the university
of Salamanca, having made great progress in every branch
of learning then in estimation. He was present at the
council of Basil, and was afterwards promoted to the
bishopric of Avila. He died at the age of 40 years, in
1454, and was buried in the church of Avila. The
following epitaph, expressive of his great erudition,
was inscribed on his tomb.
Hie stupor est mundi qui scibile discutit omne.
“ This is the wonder of the world who treated of every
thing that could be known.”
The numerous productions of Alphonsus are sufficient
proofs of his laborious industry : during his life he
wrote no less than 27 volumes in folio, of which 24
commentaries on the Scriptures j the rest are on
clesiastical liistory, science, and literature in general, Alpini!$
vvere separately printed at Salamanca in 1506, andu—y—
also his commentary upon the Chronicon of Eusebius.
Although high encomiums have been bestowed upon
ms Yvorks, they have nevertheless in the current cf
time and human improvement fallen into oblivion,
(ijupin.)
A LI INI, Prospero, in Latin, Prosper Alpinus, a
celebrated physician and botanist, was born at Maros-
tica in the republic of Venice in November 1553. In
his early years his inclination led him to the profession
of arms, and he served some time in the Milanese.
By the encouragement and persuasion of his father,
Yvho was a physician, he retired from the army, and
devoted his attention to literature. To prosecute his
studies with more advantage, he went to the university
of 1 adua, where he Yvas soon after elected deputy to
the rector and syndic to the students. But in the dis¬
charge of his official duties, which Yvas distinguished by
prudence and address, he was not prevented from pur¬
suing the study of physic which he had chosen. He
continued his medical studies with zeal and success j
and after having acquired the necessary qualifications,
he Yvas admitted to the degree of doctor of medicine in
1578. Soon after he left the university, and settled
as a physician in consequence of an invitation from the
citizens in Campo San Pietro, a small town in the Pa¬
duan territory.
In the course of his studies he had paid particular at¬
tention to plants, and had become an enthusiast in bo¬
tanical science. 1 he sphere of his present practice was
too limited to afford him much opportunity of prosecut¬
ing his favourite study. He wished particularly to ex¬
tend his kno wledge of exotic plants; and the only means
to attain this, he thought, Yvas to study their economy
and habits in their native soil. And to gratify this lau¬
dable curiosity an opportunity soon presented itself.
George Emo, the consul for the Venetian republic in
Egypt, appointed Alpini his physician. They sailed
from Venice in September 1580 ; and after having ex¬
perienced a tedious and dangerous voyage, arrived at
Grand Cairo in the beginning of July the following
year. Alpini spent three years in Egypt, and, by his
industry and assiduity, greatly improved his botanical
knowledge. With this view he travelled along the
banks of the Nile, visited every place, and consulted
every person from whom he expected any new informa¬
tion. From a practice in the management of date trees,
which he observed in this country, Alpini seems to have
deduced the doctrine of the sexual difference of plants,
which was adopted as the foundation of the celebrated
system of Linnaeus. He says, “ That the female date
trees, or palms, do not bear fruit, unless the branches
of the male and female plants are mixed together j or,
as is generally done, unless the dust found in the male
sheath, or male flowers, is sprinkled over the female
floYvers.”
When Alpini returned to Venice in 1586 he was
appointed physician to Andrea Doria prince of Melfi,
and during his residence at Genoa, acquired so great a
name as to be esteemed the first physician of his age*
The Venetians became jealous that the Genoese state
theological subjects. By the order of Cardinal Xime- should number among its citizens a person of such dL
aes they Yvere printed at ^ enice in I53°> an^ *n I59^? stinguished merit and reputation, whose services might
be..
ALP [ 742 ] ALP
Alpiai be essentially beneficial, and whose fame might be
11 highly honourable, to his native country. In the year
Alps. 1593, he was recalled to fill the botanical chair in the
university of Padua, with a salary of 200 florins, which
was afterwards augmented to 750. He discharged the
duties of his professorship for many years with great
reputation, till his declining health interrupted his la¬
bours. He died in the year 1617, in the 64th year of
his age, and was succeeded as botanical professor by
one of his sons. Alpini wrote the following works in
Latin: 1. De Medictna JEgijptiorum, libri iv. “ Of the
Physic of the Egyptians, in four booksprinted at
Venice, 1592, in 410. 1. De Plantis JEgypti liber:
“ A treatise concerning the plants of Egypt j” printed
at Venice, 1592, in 4to. 3. De Balsamo Dialogus: “ A
dialogue concerning the Balm of Gilead printed at
Venice, 1592, in 410. 4. De Prcesagienda vita et mor-
te cegrotanlium libri vii: “ Seven books concerning the
method of forming a judgment of the life or death of
patients j” printed at Venice, 1691, in 4to. 5. De
Mcdicina methodica, libri xiii: “ Thirteen books con¬
cerning Methodical Physic;” Padua, 1611, folio;
Leyden, 1719, in 410. 6. De Rhapontieo Disputatio :
M A disputation held in the school at Padua concerning
the Bbaponticum Padua, 1612, and 1629, in 410.
7. De Plantis Exoticis, libri ii: “ Of exotic plants, in
two books;” Venice, 1699, in 4to. He left several
other works, which have never been printed ; particu¬
larly, 8. The fif ji book concerning the physic of the
Egyptians. 9. Five books concerning the natural hi¬
story of things observed in Egypt, adorned with figures
of plants, stones, and animals. (Biog. Diet.')
ALPINIA. See Botany Index.
ALPINES. See Alpini.
ALPISTE, or Alpia, a sort of seed used to feed
birds with, especially when they are to be nourished
for breeding. The alpiste seed is of an oval figure, of
a pale yellow, inclining to an Isabel colour, bright and
glossy. It is an article of the corn chandlers and seeds¬
men’s trade.
ALPS, in Ancient Geography, a range of high moun¬
tains, separating Italy from Gaul and Germany, in the
form of a crescent. They take their rise from the Va-
da Sabatia, or Savona ; and reach to the Sinus Flana-
ticus (now Golfo di Carnaro of the Adriatic), and the
springs of the river Colapis (now the Kulpe) ; extend¬
ing, according to Livy, 2000 stadia in length, but in
reality about 550 miles : they are divided into several
parts, which have different names. From Savona to the
springs of the Varus, where the Alps lie against the sea
of Genoa, they are called Maritime, now le Montagne
di Benda. "I hese extend from south to north, between
Gaul to the west, and Genoa to the east, beginning at
Monaco on the Mediterranean ; then running out
through the east of the county of Nice, and between
that and the marquisate of Saluzzo, terminate at length
at Mount Viso, between Dauphine and Piedmont.
Hence to Susa run the Alpes Cottier (Sueton.) Cot-
tanee (Tacitus) ; mountains extremely high, separating
Dauphine from Piedmont, and extending from Mount
Viso to Mount Cenis, between the Alpes Maritimee to
the south, and the Graice to the north. The Alpes
Graice (Pliny), so called from the passage of Hercules,
begin from Mount Cenis, where the Cottice terminate ;
and run out between Savoy and the Tarentese to the
3
west, and Piedmont and the duche d’Aouste to the 4^
east, quite to the Great St Bernard, where the Alpes'—
Pennince begin. They are also called by some Graice
Alpes, and Grains Mans (Tacitus) ; which extend
from west to east, between St Bernard and the Adula,
or St Gothard ; and thus they run out between the
Valaise to the north, and the Milanese to the south.
With these are continued the Alpes Bheticee, to the
head of the river Piave ; apart of which are the Alpes
Tridentince, to the north of Trent. To these join the
Alpes Noricce, reaching to Doblach in Tyrol, to the
north of the river Tajamento : thence begin the Alpes
Carnicce, or of Carniola, extending to the springs of
the Save : and the last, called Alpes Pannonicce, and
Juliee, extend to the springs of the Kulpe. Some, how¬
ever, extend the Alps to the north of Dalmatia ; others,
again, to Thrace and the Euxine. But their termi¬
nation at the Kulpe, as above, is more generally
received. They were formerly called Albia, and Alpi-
oma (Strabo.) Through these mountains Hannibal for¬
ced his passage into Italy, by pouring vinegar on the
rocks, heated by burning large piles of wood on them,
by which means they became crumbled, (Livy). They
are covered with perpetual snow.
The Alps are the highest mountains in Europe.
Their highest summit, Mont Blanc, rises to the height
of 15,680 feet above the sea. They begin at the Medi¬
terranean ; and stretching northward, separate Piedmont
and Savoy from the adjacent countries ; whence direct¬
ing their course to the east, they form the boundary be¬
tween Switzerland and Italy, and terminate near the ex¬
tremity of the Adriatic sea, north-east of Venice. It
was over the western part of those mountains, towards
Piedmont, that Hannibal forced his passage into Italy.
Ihe prospect from many parts of this enormous
range of mountains is extremely romantic, especially
towards the north-west. One of the most celebrated
is the Grande Chartreuse, where is a monastery found¬
ed by St Bruno about the year 1084. From EchellesS,
a little village in the mountains of Savoy, to the top
of the Chartreuse, the distance is six miles. Along this
course, the road runs winding up, for the most part
not six feet broad. On one hand is the rock, with
woods of pine trees hanging over head ; on the other a
prodigious precipice almost perpendicular; at the bot¬
tom of which rolls a torrent, that, sometimes tumbling
among the fragments of stone which have fallen from
on high, and sometimes precipitating itself down vast
descents with a noise like thunder, rendered yet more
tremendous by the echo from the mountains on each
side, concurs to form one of the most solemn, the most
romantic, and most astonishing scenes in nature. To
this description may be added the strange views made by
the crags and cliffs, and the numerous cascades which
throw themselves from the very summit down into the
vale. On the top of the mountain is the convent of St
Bruno, which is the superior of the whole order. Tho
inhabitants consist of 100 fathers, with 300 servants,
who grind their corn, press their wine, and perform
every domestic office, even to the making of their
clothes. In the Album of the fathers is an admired al-
caic ode, written by the late ingenious Mr Gray when
he visited the Chartreuse, and which has since been
published among his works.
The glaciers of Savoy are also justly reckoned among
ike
A L p ' [ 743 ] ALP
Alp«. t^ie mos*: stupendous works of nature. Tliese are im-
mense masses ot ice, lodged upon the gentler declivities
amidst the Alps, and exhibiting representations be¬
yond conception fantastic and picturesque. In the ex¬
traordinary narrative of M. Bourrit’s journey hither,
we meet with the following account of the Prieur£, in
the valley of Chamouni. “ We had (says he) the mag¬
nificent prospect of a chain of mountains, equally in¬
accessible, and covered with ice : and above the rest
that of Mont Blanc, whose top seemed to reach, and
even pierce, the highest region of the clouds. The
chain upon which this mountain looks down like a
giant, is composed of masses of rock which terminate
in spikes or spires, called the Needles, and which are
ranged like tents in a camp. Their sides appear lighter
and more airy, from the ornament of several hollow
breaks and furrows fretted in the rock itself, as well
as from the different streaks and panes of ice and snow,
which, without changing the general character of their
form, or the majesty of their appearance, give them a
picturesque variety. Lower down, the eye surveys with
ravishment, the hills of ice, and the several glaciers, ex¬
tending almost into the plain, whilst this appears like
an artificial garden, embellished with the mixture of a
variety of colours. We have a picturesque opposition to
this chain, which is formed by innumerable mountains
at the distance of near 50 leagues, between whose tops
we have a glimpse of those several plains which they en¬
viron.”
M. de Saussure, who had visited those mountains
about two months before M. Bourrit, felt himself na¬
turally electrified in this place. This extraordinary
phenomenon seems not to have been experienced by
the latter or his company j but they heard a long con¬
tinued rumbling noise like that of thunder, which
was rendered more awful by the silence of the place
where they stood. This noise proceeded from the sub¬
sequent causes, viz., the avalanches of snow', which se-
- parated from the tops of the mountains, and rolled
down to the bottom, considerable fragments of the
rocks which followed them, overturning others in their
fall j and massy blocks of ice, which precipitated from
the summits.
The valley of Montanvert appears to be peculiarly
romantic. “ Here (says M. Bourrit) we beheld a spa¬
cious icy plain entirely level. Upon this there rose a
mountain all of ice, w'ith steps ascending to the top,
which seemed the throne of some divinity. It likewise
took the form of a grand cascade, whose figure was be¬
yond conception beautiful ; and the sun, which shone
upon it, gave a sparkling brilliance to the whole. The
valley on our right hand was ornamented with prodi¬
gious glaciers, that, shooting up to an immeasurable
height between the mountains, biend their colours with
the skies, which they appear to reach.”
Alps, besides its proper signification, by which it de¬
notes a certain chain of mountains which separate Italy
from France and Germany, is frequently used as an ap¬
pellative todenote any mountains of extraordinary height
or extensive range. In this sense, Ausonius and others
call the Pyrenean mountains Alps; and Gellius the
Spanish Alps, Alpini Htspani.
Hence also we say, the British Alps, the Asiatic Alps,
the Alps o f America.
The Scottish Alps terminate in a most sublime and
abrupt manner at the great promontory, the Alta Bipa
ot Ptolemy, theOrd or Air d, i. e.the Height of Caithness.
The upper part is covered with gloomy heath ; the lower
is a stupendous precipice, excavated into vast caverns,
the haunt ot seals and different sea fowl. On the eastern
side of the kingdom, this is the striking termination of
the vast mountains of Scotland which form its High¬
lands, the habitation of the original inhabitants, driven
from their ancient seats by the ancestors of Lowland
Scots, descendants of Saxons, French, and Normans $
congenerous with the English, yet absurdly and invi¬
diously distinguished from them. Language, as well as
striking natural boundaries, mark their place. Their
mountains face on the west the Atlantic ocean 5 wind
along the west ot Caithness 5 among which Morven and
Scaraben, Ben Hop, and Ben Lugal, arise pre-eminent.
Sutherland is entirely alpine, as are Boss-shire and In¬
verness-shire. fY\\<i\r Summce Alpes are, Meal Fourvou-
nich, the Coryarish, Benewich, and Benevish near Fort
William; the last of which is reported to be 1450 yards
in height. Great part of Aberdeenshire lies in this
tract. It boasts ot another Morven, soai'ing far be¬
yond the others. This is the centre of the Grampian
hills, and perhaps the highest from the sea of any in
Great Britain. They again comprehend the eastern
part of Perthshire, and finish on the magnificent shores
of Lochlomond ; on the western side of which Ben-
lomond rises, distinguished among its fellows. From
hence the rest of North Britain forms a chain of hum¬
bler hills; but in Cumberland, part of Westmorland,
Yorkshire, Lancashire, and Derbyshire, the Alps re¬
sume their former majesty. A long and tame interval
succeeds. The long sublime tract of Wales arises, the
ancient possession of the ancient British race. From the
Ord, the great mountains recede inland, and leave a vast
flat between their bases and the sea, fronting the waves
with a series of lofty rocky precipices, as far as the little
creek of Staxigo : the whole a bold, but most inhospi¬
table shore for shipping. Wick and Staxigo have in¬
deed their creeks, or rather chasms, which open between
the cliffs, and may accidentally prove a retreat, unless
in an eastern gale.
The Asiatic Alps are described under the articles
Altaic Chain and Werturian Mountains.
The American Alps are, the Andes or Cordilleras,
in South America; and the Afalachian or Allegany
mountains in North America.
The highest ground-in North America is placed by
Captain Carver in lat. 470, Long. W. from London
98°, between a lake from which the Oregon flows, and
another called White-Bear Lake, from which arises the
Mississippi.
This exalted situation is part of the Shining Moun¬
tains, which are branches of the vast chain which per¬
vades the whole continent of America. It may be
fairly taken from the southern extremity, where Staten
Land and Terra del Fuego rise out of the sea as insu¬
lated links to an immense height, black, rocky, and
marked with rugged spiry tops, frequently covered
with snow. New Georgia may be added as another
horribly congenial, rising detached farther to the east.
The mountains about the straits of Magellan soar to
an amazing height, and infinitely superior to those of
the northern hemisphere under the same degree of la¬
titude. From the north side of the straits of Magel-
lan* ,
f
ALP [ 744 ] ALP
Alps, lan, they form a continued chain through the king-
»—v-i doms of Chili and Peru, preserving a course not re¬
mote from the Pacific ocean. The summits, in many
places, are the highest in the world. There are not less
than 12, which are from 2400 toises high to above
3000. Pichincha, which impends over Quito, is about
35 leagues from the sea j and its summit is 2430 toises
above the surface of the water. Cayambe, immediately
under the equator, is above 3000 j and Chimborazo
higher than the last by 200. Most of them have been
volcanic, and in different ages marked with eruptions
far more horrible than have been known in other quar¬
ters of the globe. They extend from the equator
through Chili j in which kingdom is a range of volca¬
noes, from lat. 26. south, to 45. 30. and possibly from
thence into Terra del Fuego itself j which, forming the
straits of Magellan, may have been rent from the con¬
tinent by some great convulsion, occasioned by their
Jabourings, and New Georgia forced up from the same
cause. An unparalleled extent of plain appears on their
eastern side. The river of Amazons nans along a level
clothed with forests, after it bursts from its confinement
at the Pongo of Borjas, till it reaches its sea-like dis¬
charge into the Atlantic ocean.
In the northern hemisphere, the Andes pass through
the narrow isthmus of Darien into the kingdom of
Mexico, and preserve a majestic height and their vol¬
canic disposition. I he mountain Popocatepec made
a violent eruption during the expedition of Cortez,
which is most beautifully described by his historian An¬
tonio de Solis. This is probably the same with the
volcano observed by the Abbe d’Auteroche, in his way
from Vera Cruz to Mexico; which, from the naked¬
ness of the lavas, he conjectured to have been but late¬
ly extinguished. From the kingdom of Mexico, this
chain is continued northward, and to the east of Cali¬
fornia ; then verges so greatly towards the west, as to
leave a very inconsiderable space between it and the
Pacific ocean ; and frequently detached branches jut
into the sea and form promontories; which, with
parts of the chain itself, were often seen by our navi¬
gators in the course of their voyages. Some branches,
as we have before observed, extend towards the east,
but not to any great distance. A plain, rich in woods
and savannahs, swarming with bisons or buffaloes, stags,
and \ irginian deer, with bears, and a great variety of
game, occupies an amazing tract, from the great lakes
of Canada, as low as the gulf of Mexico ; and east¬
ward to the other great chain of mountains, the Apa-
lachian, which are the Alps of that side of northern
America. Its commencement is supposed to be about
Dake. Champlain and Lake George, with branches
pointing obliquely to the river St Lawrence eastward,
and rising on its opposite coasts; others extending
as far as Nova Scotia, but in their progress east-
ward dimmish in height. The main chain passes
through the province of New York, where it is distin¬
guished by the name of the Highlands, and lies within
40 miles of the Atlantic. From thence it recedes
irom the sea, m proportion as it advances southward ;
and near its extremity in South Carolina is 300 miles
distant from the water. It consists of several parallel
ridges divided by most enchanting valleys, and gene¬
rally clothed with variety of woods. These ridges
•rise gradually from the east, one above the other, to
2
the central ; from which they gradually fall to the Aipi,
west, into the vast plains of the Mississippi. The mid-A1Pusairas» S
die ridge is of an enormous bulk and height. The '“““"V—
whole extends in breadth about 70 miles ; and in many ^
places leaves great chasms for the discharge of the vast
and numerous rivers which rise in the bosoms of the
mountains, and empty themselves into the Atlantic
ocean, after yielding a matchless navigation to the pro¬
vinces they water.
Beyond the branch of the Apalachian mountains
called The Endless, is another of amazing extent,
nearly as high as the mountains themselves. This
plain (called the Upper Plain) is exceedingly rich
land ; begins at the Mohocks river; reaches to with¬
in a small distance of Lake Ontario ; and to the west¬
ward forms part of the extensive plains of the Ohio,
and reaches to an unknown distance beyond the Missis¬
sippi. Vast rivers take their rise, and fall to every
point of the compass ; into Lake Ontario, into Hud¬
son’s river, and into the Delaware and Susquehanna.
The tide of Hudson’s river flows through its deep-'
worn bed far up, even to within a small distance of
the head of the Delaware ; which, after a furious course
down a long descent, interrupted with rapids, meets the
tide not very remote from its discharge into the ocean.
Loiver Alps, Department of, in France. This de¬
partment is one of four into which the former Provence
is divided. It is bounded on the north by the de¬
partment of the Upper Alps ; on the east by Pied¬
mont, and the department of the Maritime Alps; on
the south by the department of the Var, and the north¬
east extremity of that of the Mouths of the Rhone ;
and on the west, by the departments of Vaucluse
and the Drome : the chief town is Digne. Its super¬
ficies is about 1,459,699 square acres; population
I47i910 individuals. It is divided into five communal
districts.
Upper Alps, Department of. This department makes
a part of Dauphine, which contains three. It is bound¬
ed on the north by the departments of Mont Blanc
and Isere ; on the east by Piedmont; on the south by
the department of the Lower Alps; on the west, by
that ol the Drome, and part of that of Isere. The soil
consists of enormous mountains and narrow valleys.
Two-thirds of the surface are useless for agricultural
purposes. The north wind, which generally prevails,
renders the climate cold, and the snow remains in some
of the valleys eight months of the year. The principal
river is the Durance, which is extremely rapid, and
commits great ravages by its inundations. Embrun
is the principal town. Its superficies is about 1,084,614
square acres ; population 121,523 individuals. It is
divided into three communal districts.
Maritime Alps, a department of France, formed
of the county of Nice, but which was separated from
that kingdom in 1814.
ALPUXARRAS, or Alpaxares, mountains of
Spain, in the province of Granada, on the coast of the
Mediterranean sea. They are about 17 leagues in
length and n in breadth, reaching from the city of
Velez to Almeria. They are inhabited by Moors, who
are the remains of the dispersion and ruin of their em¬
pire. They embraced the Christian religion ; but pre¬
serve their own manner of living and their language,
though much corrupted. Here is a rivulet between
Pitro*
A L s [ 74S 1 A L S
Alpuxarrai Pitros and 1 oitugos, whicli dyes linen that is dipped in 1 iiosc on the side of Switzerland are less high ; and
Alsace ^ black in an instant* Near this rivulet is a cavern, furnished with all sorts of wood, as well for fuel as
■ ^ which proceeds so malignant a steam, that it de- building. The country itself is diversified with rising
stroys such animals as come near it. ’Ihe Moriscos hills and fertile vales, besides large forests j but that
cultivate the soil extremely well, and plant fruit trees ; between the rivers 111, Hart, and the Rhine, as far as
some of which grow to a prodigious height and thick- Strasburg, is inferior to the rest, on account of the fre-
ness, and give the mountains a very agreeable as- quent overflowing of the Rhine. In High Alsace
pect. _ V there are mines of silver, copper, and lead. They
ALQUIER, a liquid measure used in Portugal to however work none but those of Giromany, from which
measure oil, two of which make an almond. See Al- are annually drawn 1600 marks of silver, each mark
M°a r r» # being eight ounces ; and 24,000 pounds of copper :
ALQLIFOU, or Arquifou, is a sort of lead ore, but the expence of working them is equal almost to
which, when broken, looks like antimony. It is used the profit. There are iron works in several parts of
by the potters to give a green varnish to their works, Alsace, and particularly at Retford. There is a mi-
and thence is called potters ore. It is met with in Corn- neral spring at Sultsbach, near Munster, in High Al-
wall, &c. The potters mix a small portion of manga- sace ; which is in great reputation for the palsy, weak-
nese with the alquifou, and then the varnish or glazing ness of the nerves, and the gravel.—The original in-
on their ware is of a blackish hue. habitants of Alsace are honest and good-natured, but
ALREDUS, Alured, or Aluredus, of Bever- wedded to their own manners and customs. The fruit-
ley, one of the most ancient English historians, was fulness of their country renders them indolent and in¬
born at Beverley in Yorkshire. He wrote in the reign active; for the Swiss make their hay and reap their
of Henry I. There are no circumstances of his life corn, as well as manage the vintage of High Alsace,
known with any degree of certainty. It is generally which sends a great deal of money out of the province,
believed that he was educated at Cambridge, and that The common language is the German ; but the better
he afterwards became one of the canons and treasurer sort of people in the towns speak French $ and, even in
of St John’s at Beverley. And we learn in a note of the country, they speak French well enough to be un-
Bishop Tanner’s, that, for the sake of improvement, derstood.
he travelled through I ranee and Italy; and at Rome The number of inhabitants since the peace in 1814,
became domestic chaplain to Cardinal Othoboni. He has been computed atpi^^pi, who aremostly Lutherans
died in the year 1128 or 1129, leaving behind him and Roman Catholics. • By the late division of France
the following works : 1. The Annals of Alured of Be- this province forms two departments, viz. those of the
verly ; which was published at Oxford in 1716, by Upper and Lower Rhine; the capital of the former being
Mr Hearne, from a manuscript which belonged to Colmar, and that of the latter Strasburg; but former-
Thomas Rawlinson, Esq, It contains an abridgement ly it was divided into Upper and Lower Alsace, the
of our history from Brutus to Henry I. written in former contained 32 large and small towns, and the lat-
Latin, and with great accuracy, elegance, and perspicui- ter 39, and in both there are upwards of 1000 market
ty. 2. Libertates ecclesice S. Johannisde Beverlac, &c. towns and villages. The Rauraci, Sequani, and Medio-
a manuscript in the Cottonian library. It is a collec- matrici, were the ancient inhabitants of this province,
tion of records relative to the church of Beverley, Under the Merovingian kings its name first occurs in the
translated from the Saxon language. These are the history of France, and it most probably is derived from
only works which were written by Alredus. (Biog. the river Ell or 111, the inhabitants on the borders of
Diet.) which were called Elsasson, from whom the country
ALRESFORD, a town of Hampshire, seated on the itself was afterwards denominated Elsas, in Latin Eli-
road from London to Southampton, close by the river satia, Alisatia, and Alsatia. The Romans wrested it
Itching, which feeds a great pond to the left of the from the Celtae ; from them it passed into the hands of
town. Part of a Roman highway runs from hence to the Germans ; and after the famous battle of Tolbiac,
Alton. It has one church, and two principal streets, gained by Clovis in 496, it passed into the possession of
which are large and broad ; and has a small manufac- the Franks. It was incorporated at a future period with
ture of linens. It is 57 miles distant from London, and the kingdom of Austrasia ; and, in 1732, it was subject-
contained 1429 inhabitants in 1811. ed, like the rest of the monarchy, to the laws of Pepin
ALSA, in Ancient Geography, a river of Carniola and his successors. Lotharius, the eldest son of Lewis
(Pliny), now the Ausa, running by Aquileia, with a Debonnaire, at the decease of his father in 840, obtain-
ahort course from north to south, into the Adriatic ; ed it, and united it to that part of the empire of the
where Constantine, the son of Constantine the Great, Franks which fell to him, and was generally known by
fighting against Constans his brother, lost his life. the name of Lotharingia, or Lorraine. Afterwards it
ALSACE, formerly a province of France, bound- fell to his youngest son Lotharius by inheritance, and
ed on the east by the Rhine, on the south by Switzer- after him, in 869, it became a province of Germany,
land, on the west by Lorraine, and on the north by the and was governed by dukes.
palatinate of the Rhine. It was formerly a part of About a century before the title of duke was abo-
Germany, but was given to France by the treaty of lished, the provincial counts who governed under them
Munster. It is one of the most fruitful and plentiful in Alsace, assumed the title of Landgraves, and the
provinces in Europe, abounding in corn, wine, wood, countries over which they presided, obtained the name
flax, tobacco, pulse, fruits, &c. The mountains of Lunclgravatcs, the one superior and the other infe-
which divide it from Lorraine are very high ; and ge- rior. The best part of the inferior was conveyed to
nerally covered with fir, beech, oak, and hornbeam, the bishops of Strasburg in 1375* assumed, the
Vol. I. Part II. f 5 B title
Alsace.
1
A L S - [ 746 ] A L S
title of Landgrave of Alsace. In after times, the go¬
vernment was given by the emperors to several families,
until at last Ferdinand I. bestowed it upon the German
line of his own family, and consequently it remained
in the house of Austria. The property of the town
of Brisac, the landgravate of the Upper and Lower
Alsace, Sundgau, and the districts of the ten united
imperial cities in Alsace, with the whole sovereignty
belonging to them, was for ever ceded by the emperor
to the crown of France, at the peace of Munster in
1648. Ths perpetual sovereignty of the city of Stras-
burg, together with all its dependencies on the left of
the Rhine, were ceded to France by the peace of Rys-
wick in 1697.
ALSEN, an island of Denmark, situated in the Les¬
ser Belt, or entrance into the Baltic sea, between Sles-
wick and Funen, 100 miles west of Copenhagen. It
extends in length six leagues, and about two in breadth.
The soil is fertile, producing abundance of fruit and va¬
riety of grain, with large crops of aniseeds, a carmina¬
tive much used in seasoning the food and mixing with
the bread all over the Danish dominions. E. Long.
9. 55. N. Lat. 55. 12.
ALSFIELD, a town of Germany, in the landgra¬
vate of Hesse Cassel, ten miles north-west of Marpurg,
c ontaining 3020 inhabitants. It is an ancient town, and
well built j and the inhabitants were the first of this
country who embraced the Reformation. E. Long.
9. 5. N. Lat. 50. 40.
ALSHASH, a very beautiful city in Buckharia,
supposed to be the same with that which is now called
Tashcanty the capital of the eastern part of Turkestan,
possessed by the Kassats. It is situated on the river
Sihuriy now Sir, and had a well watered garden for eve¬
ry house j but was ruined by Jenghiz Khan, who took
the city, and caused a great number of its inhabitants
to be massacred.
ALSHEDA, a parish in the province of Smaland,
in Sweden, where a gold mine was discovered in
1738.
ALSINA, in Botany, a synonyme of the theligo-
num. See Theligonum, Botany Index.
ALSINASTRUM, in Botany, the trivial name of
the elatine. See Elatine, Botany Index.
ALSINE, or Chickweed. See Botany Index.
The common chickweed affords a remarkable instance
of what is called the sleep of plants $ for, every night,
the leaves approach in pairs, so as to include within their
tpper surfaces the tender rudiments of the new shoots j
and the uppermost pair but one at the end of the stalk
are furn ished with longer leaf stalks than the others $ so
that they can close upon the terminating pair, and pro¬
tect the end of the branch.
ALSIRAl, in the Mahometan theology, denotes a
bridge laid over the middle of hell, finer than a hair,
and sharper than the edge of a sword, over which peo¬
ple are ^to pass, after their trial, on the day of judge¬
ment. To add to the difficulty of the passage, Maho¬
met assures, that the Alsirat, narrow as it is, is beset
with briars and thorns ^ none of which, however, will
be any impediment to the good, who shall fly over it
■iike the wind, Mahomet and his IVIussulmans leading
the way $ whereas the wicked, by the narrowness of
the path, the entangling of the thorns, and extinction
the light which directed the former to paradise,
3
will soon miss their footing, and tumble headlong into Alsirat
hell, which is gaping beneath to receive them. n
ALSIUM, in Ancient Geography, a city of ancient Alsep.
Etruria, occupying (according to Cluverius) the spot V—■
on which Pala now stands. We are told by Dionysius
Halicarnassensis, that Alsium was built by the Abori¬
gines, long before the Tyrrhenians invaded Italy. In
this case it must have been founded not long after the
dispersion in the days of Peleg. Its founder is said to
have been one Alcems, Alesus, or Alisa; whom some
conjecture to have been Alisah, or Elisha, the son of
Javan, mentioned in Scripture.
ALSOP, Anthony, an English divine and poet,
was educated at Westminster school, and from thence
elected to Christ-church, Oxford, where he took the
degree of M. A. in March 1696, and of B. D. in De¬
cember 1706. On his coming to the university, he
was very soon distinguished by Dean Aldrich, and pu¬
blished Fabularvm JEsopicarum Delectus, Oxon. 1698,
8vo, with a poetical dedication to Lord Viscount Scu¬
damore, and a preface in which he took part against
Dr Bentley in the famous dispute with Mr Boyle. He
passed through the usual offices in his college to that
of censor with considerable reputation j and for some
years had the principal noblemen and gentlemen be¬
longing to the society committed to his care. In this
employment he continued till his merit recommended
him to Sir Jonathan Trelawney, bishop of Winchester,
who appointed him his chaplain, and soon after gave
him a prebend in his own cathedral, together with the
rectory of Brightwell in the county of Berks, which
afforded him ample provision for a learned retirement,
from which he could not be drawn by the repeated so¬
licitations of those who thought him qualified for a
more public character and a higher station. In 1717
an action was brought against him by Mrs Elizabeth
Astrey of Oxford, for a breach of a marriage contract j
and a verdict obtained against him for 2000I. which
probably occasioned him to leave the kingdom for some
time. His death, which happened June 10. 1726,
was occasioned by his falling into a ditch that led to
his garden door. A quarto volume was published in
1752, under the title of Antonii Alsopi, JEdis Christi
olim Alumni, Odarum libri duo. Four English poems
of his are in Dodsley’s Collection, one in Pearch’s, se¬
veral in the early volumes of the Gentleman’s Maga¬
zine, and some in “ The Student.” Mr Alsop is re¬
spectfully mentioned by the facetious Dr King of the
Commons (Vol. i. p. 236), as having enriched the
commonwealth of learning, by “ Translations of Fables
from Greek, Hebrew, and Arabic and not less de-
tractingly by Dr Bentley, under the name of “ Tony
Alsop, a late editor of the iEsopean Fables.” (Biog.
Diet.)
Alsop, Vincent, an English nonconformist divine,
was born in Northamptonshire, and educated at St
John’s college, Cambridge, where be took the degree
of Master of Arts. When he received deacon’s or¬
ders, he went to Rutlandshire, and settled at Oakham,
where he was an assistant to the master of the free-
school. As he was a man of a sprightly turn, he fell
into indifferent company j but was reclaimed by the
frequent admonitions of the Reverend Mr Benjamin
King. He afterwards married that gentleman’s daugh¬
ter, and becoming a convert to his principles, receiv-
A L S
Alsop,
Alstedius.
ed ordination in the Presbyterian way, not being satis¬
fied with that which he had from the bishop. He was
* settled at Wilbee in the county of Northampton, whence
he was ejected in 1662, for nonconformity. After this
he ventured to preach sometimes at Oakham, and at
Wellingborough where he lived, and was once six
months in prison for praying by a sick person. A book
he wrote against Dr Sherlock in a humorous style, made
him well known to the world, and induced Mr Cawton,
an eminent nonconformist in Westminster, to recom¬
mend him to his congregation for his successor. On
receiving this call he quitted Northamptonshire, and
came to London, where he preached constantly, and
wrote several pieces which were extremely well receiv¬
ed by the public. His living in the neighbourhood of
the court exposed him to many inconveniences $ but
these ended with the reign of Charles II. or at least in
the beginning of the next reign, when Mr Alsop’s son
engaging in treasonable practices was freely pardoned
by King James. After this our divine went frequent¬
ly to court, and is generally supposed to have been
the person who drew the Presbyterians address to that
prince for his general indulgence. After the Revolu¬
tion, Mr Alsop gave public testimonies of his attach¬
ment to government j yet upon all occasions he spoke
very respectfully of King James, and retained a very
high sense of his clemency in sparing his only son.
The remainder of his life he spent in the exercise of
his ministry, preaching once every Lord’s day ; besides
which he had a Thursday lecture, and was one of the lec¬
turers at Pinners hall. He lived to a great age, and
preserving his spirits to the last, died in May 1703.
On grave subjects he wrote with a becoming seriousness:
but where wit might properly be shown, he displayed it
to great advantage. His funeral sermon was preached
by Mr Slater, and his memory will be always preserved
by his own learned and elegant writings. Of these the
most remarkable, besides his sermons, are, 1. Antiso%-
%o; in vindication of some great truths opposed by Dr
William Sherlock, 8vo, 1675. 2. Melius Inquiren¬
dum; in answer to Dr Goodman’s Compassionate In¬
quiry, 8vo, 1679. 3. The Mischief of Impositions j in
answer to Dr Stillingfleet’s Mischief of Separation,
1680. 4. A faithful Reproof to a False Report, with
reference to the Differences among the United Minis¬
ters in London, 8vo. {Biog. Bnti)
ALSTEDIUS, John Henry, a German Protes¬
tant divine, and one of the most indefatigable writers
of the 17th century. He was some time professor of
philosophy and divinity at Herborn in the county of
Nassau: From thence he went into Transylvania, to be
professor at Alba Julia j where he continued till his
death, which happened in 1638, in the 5°th year of
his age. His Encyclopcedia has been much esteemed
even by the Roman Catholics j it was printed at Lyons,
and sold very well throughout all France. His The-
saurus Chronologicus is by some considered as one of his
best works, and has gone through several editions. He
also wrote Triumphus Biblicus, to show that the prin¬
ciples of all arts and sciences are to be found in the
scriptures. He was a Millenarian ; and published, in
1627, a, treatise De tfiille annis, in which he asserted
that the reign of the saints on earth was to begin in
1694.
[ 747 1
A L S
ALSTON, Charles, M. D. a botanical and medi- Alston
cal writer, was born in the west of Scotland in the \\
year 1683. He began his studies at the university of Alstoma,
Glasgow, and about this time he had the good for- ^ "
tune to be taken under the patronage of the dnchess
of Hamilton, which afforded him an opportunity of
pursuing the bent of his inclination, by attaching himself
to the study of physic. About the age of 33, along
with his friend and companion the celebrated Alex¬
ander Munro, he went to Leyden, and studied three
years under Boerhaave. On their return to their na¬
tive country, they, in conjunction with Rutherford,
Sinclair, and Plummer, undertook departments in the
college of Edinburgh, and by their abilities and in¬
dustry, laid the foundation of that school of physic.
The branches of botany and materia medica were
long the favourite studies of his life, consequently he
undertook that department, and continued to lecture
on them with increasing reputation until his death,
which happened in November 1760, at the age of 77
years. His talents appear to have been naturally strong,
which he improved and strengthened with great assi¬
duity and industry, and employed them succesfully
in the service of science. In the year 1753, his dis¬
sertation on the sexes of plants, in which he combats
the doctrine of Linnaeus, was published in the first
volume of the Edinburgh Physical and Literary
Essays. The general plan of the work is conducted
with much ingenuity, supported by some strong ex¬
periments, and although in the opinion of the learned,
it has failed in its principal design, yet it must be ac¬
knowledged to be one of the best argued pieces on that
side of the question. An asperity of language is some¬
times used, very unsuitable to a scientific topic 5 but
however, it is proper to remark, that Linnaeus had
given some reasons for this conduct by the nature
of some of his descriptions. In the fifth volume of
the Edinburgh Medical Essays, we have a short
paper by Dr Alston on the efficacy of the powder of
tin, to destroy or expel worms from the bowels. He
informs us, that he received the prescription from an
empyric, who was renowned for his skill in curing
persons afflicted with that disease. The patient receiv¬
ed the first morning one ounce of tin reduced to pow¬
der, and half an ounce each of the two following
mornings, and was then purged with the infusion of
senna and manna. He speaks with great certainty
upon the efficacy of this medicine, which certainly has
considerable power in these cases, and may be given
to the most delicate subjects with perfect safety. Dr
Alston also engaged in a chemical controversy respecting
quicklime with Dr Whytt. But the most valuable of
all his works, are his lectures on the Materia Medica,
which were published in the year 1770, in two volumes
qto. The number of curious and useful facts contained
in this book will tend to secure its reputation, although
considerable additions and improvements have been
made, since that period, in this branch of science.
(Gen. Biogi).
ALSTON-MOOR, a town in Cumberland, seated
on a hill, at the bottom of which runs the river Tyne,
with a stone bridge over it. Near this place is plenty
of lead ore. W. Long. 2. 4. N. Lat. 54. 45.
ALSTONIA. See Botany Lidex.
5 B 2 ALSTROEMERIA.
ALT [ 748 ] ALT
Ahtroeme- ALSTROEMERIA. See Rotany Index.
jia ALT, in Music, a term applied to the high notes in
j! the scale.
. AI1'ir' , ALTAI MOUNTAINS, an extensive range of moun¬
tains In the northern parts of Asia. It begins at the
vast mountain Bogdo, passes above the head of the Ir-
tisch, and then takes a course, rugged, precipitous,
clothed with snow, and rich in minerals, between the
Irtisch and Oby j then proceeds by the lake Telezkoi,
the rise of the Oby; after which it retires, in order to
comprehend the great rivers which form the Jenesei,
and are locked up in these high mountains $ finally un¬
der the name of the Sainnes, it is uninterruptedly con¬
tinued to the lake of Baikal. A branch insinuates it¬
self between the sources of the rivers Onon and Ingo-
da, and those of Ichikoi, accompanied with very high
mountains, running without interruption to the north¬
east, and dividing the river Amur, which discharges
itself into the east, in the Chinese dominions, from the
river Lena and Lake Baikal. Another branch stretches
along the Glecma, crosses the Lena below Jakoutsk,
and is continued between the two rivers Tongouska to
the Jenesei, where it is lost in wooded and morassy
plains. The principal chain, rugged with sharp-point¬
ed rocks, approaches and keeps near the shores of the
sea of Ockhotz, and passing by the sources of the ri¬
vers Outh, Aldan, and Maia, is distributed in small
branches, which range between the eastern rivers which
fall into the Icy sea •, besides two principal branches,
one of which, turning south, runs through all Kamts-
chatka, and is broken, from the Cape Lopatka, into
the numerous Kurile isles, and to the east forms another
marine chain, in the Aleutian islands, which range from
Kamtschatka to America; most of them, as well as
Kamtschatka itself, distinguished by volcanoes, or the
traces of volcanic fires. The last chain forms chiefly
the great Cape Tschutski, with its promontories and
rocky broken shores.
The summits of the highest of the Altai mountains
are covered with perpetual snow. The loftiest range
of this extensive chain, is composed of granite. An¬
other range of inferior height consists of shistus, which
lies on the side of the granite mountains. Beside these
rocks, there are strata of chalkstone, limestone, and
marble. The Altai mountains abound in metallic ores.
Gold, silver, and lead mines, have been discovered in
them, with great abundance of copper and iron. The
two latter have been wrought to a considerable extent,
and have been found productive.
ALTAMONT, a very handsome town of Italy, in
the kingdom of Naples, and in Calabria Citerior, 15
miles north-west of Basigniano, E. Long. 16. 22.
N. Lat. 39. 40.
ALTAMURA, a town of Naples, in the territory
of Bari, with the title of a principality, seated on the
foot of the Apennine mountains. E. Long. 16. C4,
N. Lat. 41. o.
ALTAR, a place upon which sacrifices were ancient¬
ly offered to some deity.
The heathens at first made their altars only of turf j
afterwards they were made of stone, of marble, of wood,
and even of horn, as that of Apollo in Delos.
Altars differed in figure as well as in materials. Some
were round, others square, and others triangular. All
of them were turned towards the east, and stood lower
2
than the statues of the gods 5 and were generally adorn- Altar,
ed with sculpture, representing either the gods to whom ■
they were erected, or their symbols. See the Pagan
Altars represented on Plate XVII. Upon the sides
of fig. 1. a trident and two dolphins are exhibited,
which denote it to have been dedicated to Neptune.
Fig. 2. a four-square altar, was dedicated to theNymphs,
as the inscription imports. Fig. 3. exhibits a Bac¬
chanal holding a thyrsus in his hand, a mark of the
altar’s being built to Bacchus j it had two other sides,
which made it appear triangular. Of fig. 4. which
was also triangular, each face or side exhibited a genius,
one of whom (on the side represented) carries an oar
upon his neck, which seems to denote it an altar of
Neptune. Fig. 5. an altar of a round shape, is inscrib¬
ed Ara Neptuni: the god himself is there represented,
all naked, saving the pallium upon his shoulder ; and
holding in his left hand a trident, and in his right a
dolphin.
The height of altars also differed according to the
difi’erent gods to whom they sacrificed. According to
Servius, those altars set apart for the honour of the
celestial gods, and gods of the higher class, were placed
on some pretty tall pile of building •, and for that rea¬
son were called altaria, from the words alta and ara,
“ a high elevated altar.” Those appointed for the
terrestrial gods were laid on the surface of the earth,
and called arce. And, on the contrary, they dug into
the earth and opened a pit for those of the infernal
gods, which they called Codgaj XctKxat, scrobiculi. But
this distinction is not everywhere observed : the best
authors frequently use ara as a general word, under
which are included the altars of the celestial and in¬
fernal as well as those of the terrestrial gods. Witness
Virgil, Eel. 5.
———En quatuor aras,
where arce plainly includes altaria ; for whatever we
make of Daphnis, Phoebus was certainly a celestial
god. So Cicero, pro Quint. Aras delubraque Heca-
tes in Grcccia vidimus. The Greeks also distinguished
two sorts of altars ; that whereon they sacrificed to the
gods was called frvpot;, and was a real altar, different
from the other whereon they sacrificed to the heroes,
which was smaller, and called Pollux makes
this distinction of altars in his Onomasticon 5 he adds,
however, that some poets used the word i<r%x%x for the
altar whereon sacrifice was offered to the gods. The
Septuagint version does sometimes also use the word
i<r%x£x for a sort of little low altar, which may be ex¬
pressed in Latin by craticula ; being a hearth rather
than an altar.
Before temples were in use, altars were erected some¬
times in groves, sometimes in the highways, and some¬
times on the tops of mountains j and it was a custom to
engrave upon them the name, ensign, or character of
the deity to whom they were consecrated.
In the great temples of ancient Rome there were
ordinarily three altars: The first was placed in the
sanctuary, at the foot of the statue of the divinity, up¬
on which incense was burnt and libations offered; the
second was before the gate of the temple, and upon it
they sacrificed the victims $ and the third was a port¬
able altar, upon which were placed the offering and the
sacred vessels.
Besides
A I/PAR
Plate XVH
OF fJVCEJVS'E
Hi O'sIaV Ai: TAR s
E.M)/<•/„///?„//<
Aits
--Y
ALT [ 749 ] ALT
Altar. Besides these uses of altars, the ancients swore upon
—"v"—them, and swore by them, in making alliances, confirm¬
ing treaties of peace, and other solemn occasions. Al¬
tars also served as places of refuge to all those who fled
to them, whatever crime they had committed.
Altars are doubtless as ancient as sacrifices them¬
selves $ consequently their origin is not much later than
that of the world, Gen. ch. iv. Some attribute their
origin to the Egyptians j others to the Jews ; others to
the patriarchs before the flood. Some carry them as
far back as Adam, whose altar is much spoken of by
Jewish, and even Christian writers. Others are con¬
tented to make the patriarch Enoch the first who con¬
secrated a public altar. Be this as it will, the earliest
altars we find any express testimony of are those erected
by Abraham.
Altars, in the patriarchal times, were very rude. The
altar which Jacob set up at Bethel was nothing but a
stone, which served him instead of a bolster j that of
Gideon, a stone before his house : and the first which
God commanded Moses to erect was probably of earth
or unpolished stones, without any iron 5 for if any use
was made of that metal, the altar was declared impure.
The principal altars of the Jews were, The altar of
incense ; that of burnt-offering ; and the altar, or table,
for the shew bread.
The altar of incense was a small table of shittim
wood, covered with plates of gold, of one cubit in
length, another in width, and two in height. At the
four corners were four kinds of horns, and all round a
little border or crown over it. This was the altar hid¬
den by Jeremiah before the captivity j and upon it the
officiating priest offered, every morning and evening,
incense of a particular composition. See Plate XVII.
The altar of burnt-offerings was made of shittim
wood, and carried upon the shoulders of the priests by
staves of the same wood overlaid with brass. In the
time of Moses, this altar was five cubits square and
three high j but in Solomon’s temple it was much lar¬
ger, being 20 cubits square and 10 in height. It was
covered with brass \ and at each corner was a horn or
spire, wrought out of the same wood with the altar, to
which the sacrifices were tied. Within the hollow was
a grate of brass, on which the fire was made j through
it fell the ashes, which were received in a pan below.
At the four corners of the grate were four rings and
four chains, which kept it up at the horns. This altar
was placed in the open air, that the smoke of the burnt-
offerings might not sully the inside of the tabernacle.
See Plate XVII.
The altar or table for the shew-bread was likewise
of shittim wood, covered with plates of gold, having a
little border round it adorned with sculpture. It was
two cubits long, one wide, and one and a half in
height. Upon this table, which stood in the holy of
holies, were put, every Sabbath day, 12 loaves, with
salt and incense.
The Jewish altars, after their return from the capti¬
vity, and the building of the second temple, were in
some respects different from those described above.
That of burnt offerings was a large pile, built of un¬
hewn stone, 32 cubits square at the bottom, and 24
square at the top. The ascent was by a gentle rising,
32 cubits in length, and 16 in breadth.
Altar, is also used among Christians for the com- Aha?
munion-table. |)
In the primitive church, the altars were only of AHenberg-,
wood ; as being frequently to be removed from place '" ' v
to place. But the council of Paris, in 509, decreed
that no altar should be built but of stone. At first
there was but one altar in each church $ but the num¬
ber soon increased ; and from the writings of Gregory
the Great, who lived in the sixth century, we learn,
that there were sometimes in the same church twelve
or thirteen. In the cathedral of Magdeburg there are
no less than 49 altars.
The altar is sometimes sustained on a single column,
as in the subterraneous chapels of St Cecilia, at Rome,
&c. j and sometimes by four columns, as the altar of St
Sebastian of Crypta Arenaria 5 but the customary form
is, to be a massive of stone work, sustaining the altar
table. These altars bear a resemblance to tombs: to
this purpose, we read in church-history, that the primi¬
tive Christians chiefly held their meetings at the tombs
of the martyrs, and celebrated the mysteries of religion
upon them : for which reason, it is a standing rule to
this day in the church of Rome, never to build an altar,
without inclosing the relics of some saint in it.
ALTAR-thane, or Altarist, in old law-books,,
an appellation given to the priest or parson of a parish,
to whom the altarage belonged. See Altarage.
ALTARAGE, in Law, altars erected in virtue of
donations, before the Reformation, within a parochial .5
church, for the purpose of singing of mass for deceased
friends.
Altarage likewise signifies the profits arising to
the priest on account of the altar.
AL-TAYEFF, a town of Hejaz, a district of Ara¬
bia Felix. It is situated about 60 miles east of Mecca,
behind Mount Gazwan, where the cold is more intense
than in any other part of the district, but the air very
wholesome. Its territory abounds in fountains, and
produces excellent raisins. The town is surrounded with
a wall, but is not very large.
ALTDORF, a large handsome town in Swisser-
land, and the chief of the canton of Uri. It is situa¬
ted below the lake of the Four Cantons, in a plain, at
the foot of a mountain whose passages are difficult, and
serve instead of fortifications. It has four churches and
two convents 5 St Martin’s church and that of the Ho¬
ly Cross are the finest. The town-house and the ar¬
senal are also worth seeing. E. Long. 8. 30. N. Lat.
46. 50.
ALTEA, a sea-port town of Valencia in Spain. It
was taken in 1705, in favour of the archduke Charles y
but lost after the battle of Almanza. W. Long. o. 15.
N. Lat. 46. 34.
ALTEMBURG, a town of Transylvania, 17 miles
south-west of Wisemburg, and 35 south of Clausenbourg,.
E. Long. 23. 5. N. Lat. 46. 25.
ALTENA, or Altona, a sea-port town of Germa¬
ny, in the duchy of Holstein in Lower Saxony, It is a.
modern town, built by the king of Denmark, and was
burnt by the Swedes in 17125 but has since been beau¬
tifully rebuilt. The number of inhabitants is about
30,0005 and it has a considerable trade. E. Long,
10. o. N. Lat. 53. 51.
ALTENBERG, an ancient town of Germany,
situated
ALT [ 75° . ] ALT
AUeubarg situated on the river Pleiss, with a good castle placed on
II a rock, in Misnia, in the circle of Upper Saxony. It
Alternate. was formerly an imperial city, but at present belongs
w- ^ ^ jlouse Saxony. Here is a college which
has always been in a flourishing condition. In I7°5»
there was a nunnery founded for women of a high
rank, who are Protestants. E. Long. 15. 8. N. Lat.
5°* 59*
ALTENBURG, a small fortified town of Hungary,
in the territory of Moson, near the Danube, about
fifty miles from Vienna. E. Long. 17. 20. N. Lat.
48. 15.
Altenburg, or Owar, a small but strong town of
Hungary, seated in a marsh, with wide streets. It is
near the river Danube, and is surrounded with deep
ditches. It is 15 miles south of Presburg, 40 south¬
east of Vienna, and 65 south-west of Buda. E. Long.
17. 56. N. Lat. 46. 50.
ALTERANTS, or Alterative Medicines, such as
correct the bad qualities of the blood, and other hu¬
mours, without occasioning any sensible evacuation.
ALTERATION, in Physics, the act of changing
the circumstances and manner of a thing j its general
nature and appearance remaining the same. Or, it is
an accidental and partial change in a body 5 without
proceeding so far as to make the subject quite unknown,
or to take a new denomination thereupon. Or, it may
be defined, the acquisition or loss of such qualities as
are not essential to the form of the body. Thus, a
piece of iron, which before was cold, is said to be c/-
tered, when it is made hot j since it may still be per¬
ceived to be iron, is called by that name, and has all
the properties thereof. By this, altei'ation is distin¬
guished from generation and corruption ,• those terms
expressing an acquisition or loss of the essential quali¬
ties^ of a thing. The modern philosophers, after the
ancient chemists and corpuscularians, hold all alteration
to be effected by means of local motion. According
to them, it always consists either in the emission, ac¬
cession, union, separation, or transposition, of the com¬
ponent particles.
ALTERCATION, a debate or contest between two
friends or acquaintance. The word comes from alter-
can, which anciently signified to converse or hold dis¬
course together. Thus we say, They never come to an
open quarrel, but there is continually some little alter¬
cation or other.
ALTERN-BASE, in Trigonometry, a term used in
contradistinction to the true base. 1 hus in oblique tri¬
angles, the true base is either the sum of the sides, and
then the difference of the sides is called the altern-base{;
or the true base is the difference of the sides, and the
the sum of the sides is called the altern-base.
ALTERNATE, in a general sense, a term applied
to such persons or things as succeed each other by
turns. Thus, two who command each his day, are
said to have an alternate command, or to command al¬
ternately.
Alternate, in Heraldry, is said in respect of the
situation of the quarters. Thus the first and fourth
quarters, and the second and third, are usually of the
same nature, and are called alternate quarters.
Alternate, in Botany, when the leaves or branch¬
es of plants arise higher on opposite sides alternately.
ALTERNATION, in its primary sense, denotes a Alternation
succession by turns.
Alternation is sometimes used to express the dif- Alting.
ferent changes or alterations of orders in any number of^
things proposed. This is also called permutation, &c.
and is easily found by a continual multiplication of all
the numbers, beginning at unity. Thus, if it be re¬
quired to know how many changes or alternations can
be rung on six bells, multiply the numbers I, 2, 3, 4,
5, 6, continually into one another $ and the last product
gives the number of changes.
ALTERNATIVE, is particularly used for the
choice of two things proposed. In this sense we say, to
take the alternative of two propositions.
ALTHjEA, Marshmallow. See Botany Index.
Althea Frutex. See Hibiscus, Botany Index.
ALTIMETRY, the art of measuring altitudes or
heights, whether accessible or inaccessible. See Geo¬
metry.
ALTIN, a money of account in Muscovy, worth
three copecs : 100 of which make a ruble, worth about
4s. 6d. sterling.
Altin, a lake in Siberia, from whence issues the
river Ob, or Oby, in N. Lat. 52. o. E. Long. 85. 55.
This lake is called by the Russians Teloskoi Osero, from
the Telessi, a Tartarian nation, who inhabit the borders
of it, and who give it the name of Altin-Kul. By the
Cal mucks it is called Altinnor. It is near 90 miles long
and 50 broad, with a rocky bottom. The north part
of it is sometimes frozen so hard as to be passable on
foot, but the southern part is never covered with ice.
The water in the Altin lake, as well as in the rivers
which run through the adjacent places, only rises in the
middle of summer, when the snows on the mountains
are melted by the heat of the sun.
ALTINCAR, among mineralists, a species of facti¬
tious salt used in the fusion and purification of metals.
The altincar is a sort of flux powder. Divers ways
of preparing it are given by Libavius.
ALTING, Henry, a German divine, was born at
Embden, in 1583. H is father was minister of the
church of Embden, and early destined his son to the
same profession. In the year 1602, after a grammatical
course he was sent to the university of Herborn : there
he studied with so much assiduity and success, that he
soon had the honour of being a preceptor. Qualified
by the vigorous exertions of his talents, he was ap¬
pointed tutor to the three young counts of Nassau,
Solms, and Isenburg, who studied with the elector prince
palatine, first at Sedan, and afterwards at Heidelberg.
A proper discharge of the duties of a lower station
generally paves the way for a higher. For he was
appointed preceptor to the prince in 1608 : and in
consequence of his assiduity and success, he was cho¬
sen to accompany the elector into England. Among
the number of celebrated men to whose acquaintance
he was introduced in England, was the famous Dr Ab¬
bot, archbishop of Canterbury. In 1613, Alting re¬
turning to Heidelberg after the marriage of the elector
with the princess of England, received his degree of
doctor of divinity, and was appointed director of the
college of Wisdom. The increased knowledge and
invigorated talents of Alting, were always receiving
renewed opportunities of exertion ; thus his elo¬
quence
4
alt [ 751 ] ALT
Ahing. quence ami learning obtained full scope in the synod of
v 1 Dort, to which he had been deputed by the Palatinate,
along with two other divines.
It was but reasonable for Alting to expect high pre¬
ferment and high advantages from the avowed patro¬
nage of the elector j but in this he was greatly disap¬
pointed, and he had only to participate in his misfor¬
tunes. In 1622, County Tilly took the city of Heidel¬
berg, and devoted it to plunder. In order to escape the
fury of the soldiers, Alting endeavoured to pass by a
back door into the chancellor’s house, which was put
under a strong guard j but the officer who guarded the
house, as he was entering said to him } “ with this bat¬
tle-axe I. have to-day killed ten men, and Alting, if I
knew where to find him, should be the eleventh ; who
are you ?” Alting with a singular presence of mind re¬
turned an evasive answer, which saved his life. “ I am
(said he) a teacher in the college of Wisdom.” The of¬
ficer took him under his protection j but the Jesuits un¬
fortunately taking possession of the house, the next day,
left the generous officer no time at his departure to take
care of the teacher of the college of Wisdom.” Alting
evaded the hands of the Jesuits, by hiding himself in a
garret, and a cook of the electoral court supplied him
with food, who happened to be employed by Count Til¬
ly in the kitchen occupied by him in the chancellor’s
house. In this perilous situation he remained until an
opportunity offered of making his escape to Heilbron,
whither his family had been conducted before.
But ecclesiastical intolerance harassed Alting, as
much as he was formerly endangered by military hos¬
tility. With the permission of the duke of Wirtem-
berg he retired for a few months to Schorndorf after
the desolation of the Palatinate by the victorious forces
of Count Tilly. It was reasonable to expect that a
welcome and hospitable reception might have been giv¬
en, among Protestants, to one who had just escaped the
flames of a Popish war. But the doctrine of mutual
forbearance and candour seems to have been little at¬
tended to by the Protestants, at this period, whatever
was their progress in the knowledge of the other doc¬
trines of Christianity. The Palatinate being in the vi¬
cinity of the duchy of Wirtemberg, the professors of
Tubingen and Heidelberg frequently attacked each
other in polemic writings and theological disputations.
The natural consequence was, that a settled jealousy
and enmity existed between the two schools and their
respective vicinities. The injuries which Alting had
suffered from the common enemy were not sufficient to
secure him a friendly reception among the Lutheran
ministers of Schorndorf, who were involved in these
feuds, and therefore murmured at the permission which
the duke had given to a professor of Heidelberg to reside
there. The mischievous effects of religious dissensions
have been universally felt.
In 1623, Alting retired with his family to Embden,
and afterwards followed to the Hague bis late pupil,
now king of Bohemia. Such was the unfeigned at¬
tachment of his master to him, that he still retained him
as a preceptor to his eldest son*, and prevented him
from accepting the charge of the church at Embden,
and likewise of a professorship at the university of Fra-
neker. In 1627 bis importunity prevailed upon bis
patron, and he obtained leave to remove to Groningen,
and there ascended the divinity chair; and continued
to lecture with increasing reputation until the day of Ahhig.
his death. The ardent desire and repeated endeavours y—
of several universities to appropriate to themselves the
honour and benefit of his services, is the most unequivo¬
cal proof of the general esteem in which his character
was held. The states of Groningen positively refused
to give their consent to this removal, when the univer¬
sity of Leyden solicited him to come and labour among
them. But some time after, the prospect of extensive
usefulness in reestablishing the university of Heidelberg,
and restoring the churches of the Palatinate, determined
him to accept the office of professor of divinity and ec¬
clesiastical senator, presented to him by Prince Lewis
Philip. In the year 1634, ani'dst numerous hardships,
to which the existing war exposed him, he set out for
Heidelberg, and pursued his journey as far as Franc-
fort : when the battle of Norlingen, in which the im¬
perialists were victorious, rendered his farther progress
impracticable, and therefore with great difficulty he re¬
turned to Groningen.
Domestic affliction and personal sufferings embittered
the remaining years of this excellent man’s life. De¬
prived of his eldest daughter by death, such was his
great affection for her that it brought on a settled me¬
lancholy, attended with a bodily disease which was with
great difficulty removed; but after an interval of four
years a settled and irrecoverable melancholy seized him,
in consequence of the loss of an amiable and beloved
wife, which, together with a return of his bodily dis¬
ease, in a few months put a period to his useful life in
the year 1644.
Alting was a man of eminent talents and extensive
learning, possessed of amiable dispositions, which indu¬
ced him to be more solicitous to serve the public than to
benefit himself. The amiable character and extensive
learning of Alting, cannot fail deeply to interest every
reader, in consequence of his misfortunes. He was a-
verse to quarrels and disputes about trifles, although no
friend to the innovations introduced at this period by
the Socinians. According to his own judgment, ad¬
hering to the plain doctrine of Scripture, be was equal¬
ly desirous to avoid fanatical scrupulosity and sophisti¬
cal subtility. The productions of his pen are, Notes
in Decadem Problematum Jacobi Behm, Heidelbergse,
1618; “ Notes on a Decad of Jacob Behmen’s Pro¬
blems.” Loci Communes; “ Common Places.” Pro-
blemata ; “ Problems.” Explicatio Catacheseos Pa/a-
tinat.; “Explanation of the Palatine Catechism.”
Exegesis Augustame Confessinnis, &e. Amst. 1647 ;
“ Commentary on the Augustan Confession.” Metho-
dus Theologies Didacticee et Catacheticee, Amst. 1650 j
“ A Method of Didactic and Catechetic Theology.”
The Medulla Histories Prophance, “ Marrow of Pro¬
fane History,” published under the name of Parseus,
was written by Alting. (Gen. Biog.)
Alting, James, son of Henry Alting, was born
at Heidelberg in 1618. After the usual course of
grammatical studies, he became a student, and soon af¬
ter professor of divinity in the university of Groningen.
The Oriental languages were his favourite studies at
an early period of his life 5 and in 1638 he put him¬
self under the tuition of a Jewish rabbi at Embden.
Determining to take up his residence in England, he
arrived there in 1640, and was admitted to clerical
orders, by Dr Prideaux bishop of Worcester. By
an i
ALT [ 752 ] ALT
Akin?, an offer of the Hebrew professorship in the university
Altitude, of Groningen, he was soon induced to alter his plan of
life, and consequently again returned to Germany in
1643. His active assiduity in these languages, and his
knowledge in other sciences, procured him universal
esteem, and great reputation as a scholar. About
this time he received many academic honours $ he was
admitted doctor of philosophy, academic preacher, and
at last in conjunction with a colleague, Samuel des
Marets, was chosen professor of divinity. These pro¬
fessors followed different methods of teaching, and
adopted different systems. Des Marets was an admirer
and follower of the subtilities of the scholastics j and
by the ingenuity with which he pursued the scholastic
plan of instruction had acquired great reputation and
considerable influence. Alting spent his time in the
study of the Scriptures, and in the pursuit of Rabbini¬
cal learning j and he delivered a course of lectures on
divinity, which gained him great popularity. As it
might naturally be expected, a mutual jealousy arose
between the two professors: and their respective par¬
tisans in the university carried their animosity to an
undue height. Established opinion, and the weight
of authority, marshalled on the side of Des Marets.
By the permission of the curators of the university he
appeared as public accuser of Alting, and produced a
long list of erroneous propositions to the divines of
Leyden for their opinion. The judgment of the di¬
vines upon the dispute shows a great degree of modera¬
tion and good sense: they pronounced Alting innocent
of heresy, but imprudently fond of innovation j and they
•declared Des Marets deficient in modesty and can¬
dour. If the superiors had not prohibited the farther
discussion of these subjects in the consistories, classes,
and synods, they would have occasioned as much mis¬
chief as they had excited general attention. Such was
the protection given to Alting, that whenever any of
the order of ecclesiastics proposed any further mea-
-sures against him, they were immediately rejected by
the civil power j nay, the penalty of deprivation was
decreed against those clergy who should revive the
Maresio-Altingian controversy. Whatever might be
the advantages resulting to Alting from this protection,
the magistrates certainly did wrong in proceeding so
far in prohibiting a free discussion from the press, either
for or against the judgments of the divines of Leyden.
Although a kind of reconciliation was attempted by
their common friends while Des Marets lay upon his
death-bed, yet the breach between Des Marets and
Alting was never perfectly healed. Dr Alting died of
a fever in 1679. ^ie fondness which he shewed for
Rabbinical learning gave birth to the general report,
that he was inclined to become a Jew. His opinions,
which seem to have excited more general attention than
they deserve, may be seen at large in his writings, which
were collected a few years after his death, and publish¬
ed in five volumes folio, by his cousin Menso Alting,
who wrote a good description of the Low Countries,
under the title of Notitia Germanice Ivferioris. (Gen.
Biog.')
ALTITUDE, accessible and inaccessible. See Geo¬
metry.
The method of taking considerable terrestrial alti¬
tudes, of which those of mountains are the greatest, by
means of the barometer, is very easy and expeditious.
It is done by observing, on the top of the mountain, Altitadt I
how much the mercury has fallen below what it was at ||
the foot of the mountain. See Barometer. Altorf. Aj
Altitude oj the Eye, in Perspective, is a right line ’ 1 J
let fall from the eye, perpendicular to the geometrical
plane.
Altitude, in Astronomy, is the distance of a star,
or other point in the mundane sphere, from the ho¬
rizon.
This altitude may be either true or apparent. If it
be taken from the rational or real horizon, the altitude
is said to be true or real; if from the apparent or sen¬
sible horizon, the altitude is apparent. Or rather, the
apparent altitude is such as it appears to our observationj
and the true is that from which the refraction has been
subtracted.
The true altitudes of the sun, fixed stars, and planets,
differ but very little from their apparent altitudes ; be¬
cause of their great distance from the centre of the
earth, and the smallness of the earth’s semidiameter,
when compared thereto. But the difference between
the true and apparent altitude of the moon is about
52. This subject is further explained under Astro¬
nomy.
Altitude Instrument, or Equal Altitude Instrument,
is that used to observe a celestial object when it has the
same altitude on the east and west sides of the meri¬
dian. See Astronomy.
ALTKIRK, a town of France, in the department of
the Upper Rhine, situated on the river 111, in N. Lat.
47. 40. E. Long. 7. 15.
ALTMORE, a town of Ireland, in the county of
Tyrone, and province of Ulster, situated in N. Lat,
54. 34. W. Long. 7. 2.
ALTON, a town in Hampshire, seated on the river
Wey; W. Long. o. 46. N. Lat. 51. 5. It is govern¬
ed by a constable, is indifferently built, being chiefly
laid out in one pretty broad street, and contained 2316
inhabitants in 1811. It has one church, a Presbyte¬
rian and a Quaker meeting, a famous free school, a
large manufacture of plain and figured baragons, rib¬
bed druggets, and serges de Nismes $ and round the
town is a large plantation of hops.
Alton, or Avelton, a village in Staffordshire,
five miles north of Utoxeter. There are the ruins of
a castle here, which some would have to be built before
the Norman conquest $ but Dr Plott is pretty certain
that it was erected by Theobald de Verdun, in the be¬
ginning of the reign of Edward II. A great part of
the walls are still standing, but they are in a very ruin¬
ous condition.
ALTO Basso, or in Alto et in Basso, in Law,
signifies the absolute reference of all differences, small
and great, high and low, to some arbitrator or indiffer¬
ent person. Pateat universis per preesentes, quod Wil-
lielmus Tylar de Yetton, et Thomas Gower de Almestre,
posuerunt se in Alto et in Basso, in arbitrio quatuor ho-
minum ; viz. de quadam querela pendente inter eos in
curia. ISos et terram nostrum altc et basse ipsius domini
Regis supposuimus voluntati.
Alto-Relievo. See Relievo.
AhTO-Repieno, in Music, the tenor of the great cho¬
rus, which sings and plays only now and then in some
particular places.
ALTORF, a town of the circle of Franconia, in
Germany.
A L V [ 753 ] A L V
Alt-Rati- Germany. It has a botanical garden, with a great
stadt variety of plants, an anatomical theatre, a handsome
l1w A!vi library, and contained 2070 inhabitants in 1803. It is
1  \ ‘ subject to the house of Bavaria, and is 15 miles from
Nuremberg. E. Long. 11. 7. N. Lat. 49. 25.
ALT-BAN STADT, a town in Saxony, famous
for the treaty between Charles XII. king of Sweden
and Augustus elector of Saxony, in 1706, wherein the
latter resigned the kingdom of Poland.
ALTRINCHAM, a town of England, in Cheshire,
seven miles from Manchester, and containing 2032
inhabitants in 1811. W. Long. 1. 30. N. Lat. 53.
2i* ,
ALTZEG, a town of Germany, in the Lower Pa¬
latinate, the capital of a territory of the same name,
with an old castle. W. Long. 7. 25. N. Lat. 49. 44.
ALVA DE Tormes, a considerable town in Spain,
in the kingdom of Leon, and territory of Salamanca,
with a very handsome castle. It is seated on the north
bank of the river Tormes. W. Long. 6. 1. N. Lat.
41. o.
Alva, Ferdinand Alvare% of Toledo, duke of, was
born in 1508, and descended from one of the most il¬
lustrious families in Spain. His grandfather, Frederick
de Toledo, was his preceptor in the military and poli¬
tical arts, and he displayed his valour at the battle of
Pavia and at the siege of Tunis. The ambitious
Charles V. selected Alva as a proper instrument for
conducting his military enterprises, and he made him
his general in 1338 j and, after several operations, in
which he both displayed his valour and military know¬
ledge, in 1542 he successfully defended Perpignan a-
gainst the dauphin of France.
In 1546, Alva was made general in chief of the
army which marched against the German Protestants,
who were marshalled under the banners of the elector
of Saxony. Francis, the king of France, died at Ram-
bouillet, and by his death a considerable change was
made in the state of Europe. Instantly, therefore,
Charles began his march from Egra on the borders of
Bohemia, and entered the southern frontier of Saxony,
and attacked Altorf upon the Elster. Incessantly
pushing froward, he arrived the evening of the 23d of
April on the banks of the Elbe, opposite to Muhl-
berg. The river, at that place, was three hundred
paces in breadth, about four feet in depth j its current
rapid; and the bank possessed by the Saxons was high¬
er than that which he occupied. In opposition to the
opinion of the duke of Alva and his other officers,
Charles, with undaunted courage, and with inexpres¬
sible difficulties, led his army through the river and
engaged the Saxons. The elector displayed great per¬
sonal courage and military knowledge, but having re¬
ceived a wound in the face, he at last surrendered him¬
self prisoner. When he approached the emperor, he
said, “ The fortune of war has made me your prisoner,
most gracious emperor, and I hope to be treated” 
Here Charles harshly interrupted him, “ And am I
then at last acknowledged to be emperor , Charles of
Ghent was the only title you lately allowed me. You
shall be treated as you deserve.” The elector made
no reply; but, with an unaltered countenance, which
discovered neither astonishment nor dejection, accom¬
panied the Spanish soldiers appointed to guard him.
The emperor proceeded towards Wittemberg, whither
Vol. I. Fart II. f
the remains of the Saxon army had fled, carrying along A|va
vyith him the captive prince, as a spectacle ofconsterna-
tion and amazement to his own subjects. But when
he approached the town, he found it defended by the
vigorous eftorts of the elector’s wife, along with the in¬
habitants. He summoned Sibylla once and a second
time to open the gates, informing her, that if she per¬
sisted in her obstinacy, the elector should answer for it
with his head. Accordingly he brought his prisoner to
an immediate trial. The proceedings against him were
as irregular as the stratagem was barbarous. Instead of
consulting the states of the empire, or remitting the
cause to any court, which, according to the German
constitution, might have legally taken cognizance of
the elector’s crime, he subjected the greatest prince in
the empire to the jurisdiction of a court martial. The
emperor selected the unrelenting duke of Alva as a pro¬
per instrument to carry into ell'ect any measure of vio¬
lence and oppression, and therefore made him president
of that court, composed of Spanish and Italian officers.
Moved more by the intreaties of his wife than by a
sense of his own danger, the elector submitted to all the
rigorous and unjust measures that were proposed in
order to save his lifej but when it was added, that he
should also renounce the Protestant faith and become a
Roman Catholic, he refused to act in opposition to his
conscience, and bravely fell a sacrifice to the cause of
truth.
In 1552, Alva was intrusted with the command of
the army intended to invade France, and was con¬
strained by the opinion and authority of the emperor
to lay siege to Mentz, in opposition to his own mili¬
tary knowledge ; but notwithstanding all his valour
and abilities, the duke of Guise successfully defended
the place. In consequence of the success of the French
arms in Piedmont, he was made commander in chief
of all the emperor’s forces in Italy, and at the same
time invested with unlimited power. Success did not,
however, attend his first attempts, and after several
unfortunate attacks, he was obliged to retire into
winter quarters. The next year he was sent into the
pope’s territories, and, had he not been restrained by
his master, he would have taken possession of all his
fortified places, and deterred Henry from entering in¬
to any new connection with him, and have thereby pre¬
vented the renewal of the war. Philip was strongly
inclined to peace, but Alva was inclined to severe mea¬
sures : he, however, yielded to the instructions of his
master, until being deluded, and sometimes haughtily
answered, he at length sent Pino de Loftredo with a
letter to the college of cardinals, and another to Paul,
in which, after enumerating the various injuries which
his master had received, and renewing his former ofi’ers
of peace and friendship, he concluded with protesting
that, if his offers tvere again rejected, the pope should
be chargeable with all the calamities that might follow.
The pope threw Loffredo into prison 5 and, had not
the college of cardinals interposed, he would nave even
put him to death ; and on account of Philip’s failing to
pay tribute for Naples, he deprived him of the sove¬
reignty of that kingdom. This violent conduct of
Paul gave great offence throughout all Europe, and
greatly lessened his influence in Italy; but Philip,
though a young, ambitious, powerful monarch, and of
a temper of mind impatient of injuries and affronts,
5 C ' moved
A L V [ 754 1 A L V
moved with a religious veneration, discovered an ama¬
zing reluctance against proceeding to extremities. Af¬
ter much time spent in negociation, Philip was at last
forced to give orders for Alva to take the field. He
cheerfully obeyed, and began his march in the begin¬
ning of September 1556, with a well-disciplined army,
which reducing several towns in the Campagna di Ro¬
ma, he pursued his conquests to the very gates of Rome.
The circumstances, however, in which Alva found his
army, induced him to make a truce of forty days, and
after several negociations, he yielded to peace. One of
its terms was, that the duke of Alva should in person
ask forgiveness of the haughty pontiff whom he had con¬
quered. Proud as the duke was by nature, and accus¬
tomed to treat with persons of the highest dignity, yet
such was the superstitious veneration then entertained
for the papal character, that he confessed his voice fail¬
ed him at the interview, and his pi’esence of mind for¬
sook him. Not long after this, he was sent at the head
of a splendid embassy to Paris, to espouse, in the name
of his master, Elizabeth, daughter of Henry king of
France.
Philip II. his new master, being strongly devoted to
the Roman see, and determined to reclaim rebels to
his government, and dissenters from his faith, by the
most unrelenting severity and unbounded cruelty, he
pitched upon Alva as the fittest person to carry this
system into practice : with this design, therefore, he
was sent into the Low Countries in 1567. Having
received his orders, armed with such power as left only
the shadow of authority to the natural governor, and
provided with 10,000 veterans, he marched towards
that devoted country. When he arrived, he soon
shewed how much he merited the confidence which his
master reposed in him, and instantly erected a bloody
tribunal, to try all persons who had been engaged in
the late commotions which the civil and the religious
tyranny of Philip had excited. The depraved enor¬
mities of the mind of Alva, raged with unexampled
violence. He imprisoned the counts Egmont and
Horn, the two popular leaders of the Protestants, and
soon brought them to an unjust trial, and condemned
them to death. In a little time, he totally annihilated
every privilege of the people, and with uncontrolled
fury and cruelty, put multitudes of them to death.
Beholding herself deprived of all authority, and her
subjects devoted to destruction, the duchess of Parma
resigned her office, disdaining to hold the nominal,
while the actual reins of power were in the hands of
Alva. This event increased the general tide of
wretchedness, and every place was filled with scenes
of horror and dismay. Unable for the present to ad¬
minister the least aid, the prince of Orange saved his
life by flight. This noble prince suddenly collected
an army in Germany, and returned to the relief of his
countrymen 5 and at the same time Prince Lewis, his
brother, marched with an army into Friesland. Al¬
though success at first attended Lewis, yet the activity
and experience of Alva prevailed, and he was totally
defeated. The prince of Orange proved a more for¬
midable foe ; and it gave exertion to the united talents
of Alva, and his son Frederick of Toledo, to prevent
the prince from making a descent upon the Nether¬
lands. But notwithstanding all the address and mi¬
litary skill of the prince of Orange, this was effected 3
3
and the glory remained to Alva to baffle that great
leader, and to compel him, after great loss of men,
to disband the remainder of his army. Now the cruel¬
ty of Alva had unrestrained vent. Instantly the exe¬
cutioner was employed in removing all those friends
of freedom whom the sword had spared. Uncontrol¬
led, the base and unrelenting heart of Alva began to re¬
duce all the provinces to utter slavery, and to extirpate
Protestantism in that country. In most of the consi¬
derable towns, Alva built citadels. He erected a
statue of himself, which was no less a monument of his
vanity than his tyranny, in the city of Antwerp : he
was figured trampling on the necks of two smaller sta¬
tues, representing the two estates of the Low Coun¬
tries. By his unusual and arbitrary requisition of new
supplies from the states, he greatly aggravated this
haughty insult. The human mind displays unusual vi¬
gour when rendered desperate by oppression. The ex¬
iles from the Low Countries, roused to action, fitted out
a kind of piratical fleet, and, after strengthening them¬
selves by successful depredations, ventured upon the bold
exploit of seizing the town of Briel. Thus, unin¬
tended by him, the cruelty of Alva was the instrument
of the future independence of the seven Dutch provin¬
ces. The fleet of the exiles having met the Spanish
fleet, totally defeated it, and reduced North Holland
and Mons ; and numbers of cities hastened to throw off
the yoke : while the states-general assembling at Dor¬
drecht, openly declared against Alva’s government,
and marshalled under the banners of the prince of
Orange. This situation of affairs opened the eyes of
Alva to behold the instability of a power founded on
terror and oppression ; he therefore began in vain to use
more lenient measures. He prepared, however, with
vigour to oppose the gathering storm, and afterwards
recovered Mons, Mechlin, and Zutphen, under the
conduct of his son Frederick, where his soldiers more
than retaliated upon the prince of Orange. M ith the
exception of Zealand and Holland, he regained all the
provinces ; and at last his son stormed Waerden, and,
massacring its inhabitants with the most savage cruel¬
ty, he then proceeded to invest the city of Haerlem.
Fully convinced of the miseries that waited their sur¬
render, this city stood an obstinate siege; and nothing
less than the inflexible and persevering spirit of Alva
could have opposed difficulties almost insurmountable.
Despairing of success, Frederick was at one time dis¬
posed to raise the siege, but the stern reproaches of
his father urged him on j and at length the inhabi¬
tants, overcome with fatigue and resistance, surrendered.
The victorious Frederick gave tolerable conditions to
the town j but his cruel father arriving on the third day
after the surrender, sacrificed numerous victims, who
had been led to expect mercy, and satiated his ven¬
geance to the full. Their next attack was upon Alk-
maar ; but the spirit of desperate resistance was raised
to such a height in the breasts of the Hollanders, that
the Spanish veterans were repulsed with great loss, and
Frederick constrained reluctantly to retire. Alva now
resolved to try his fortune by sea, and with great la¬
bour and expence fitted out a powerful fleet, and pro¬
ceeded to attack the Zealanders, but was entirely de¬
feated, and the commander taken prisoner. About
the same period, the prince of Orange proceeded to
attack the town of Gertruydenberg. Alva’s feeble
state
A L v [ 755 ] A L V
Alta, state of health and continued disasters induced him to
—v— .< solicit his recal from the government of the Low Coun¬
tries ; a measure, which in all probability, was not dis¬
pleasing to Philip, who was now resolved to make trial
of a milder administration. In December *573, that
devoted country was freed from the presence and oppres¬
sions of the duke of Alva, who, accompanied by his son,
returning home, gave out the inglorious boast, that he
had, during the course of six years, besides the multi¬
tudes destroyed in battle and massacred after victory,
consigned 18,000 persons to the executioner. Reque-
sens, who succeeded him in the command, in his first
act of administration, pulled down his insolent effigies at
Antwerp, so that nothing might remain of him in that
much injured country but the remembrance of his injus¬
tice and cruelty.
Returning from this scene of oppression and blood,
he was treated for some time with great distinction by
his master. Justice, however, soon overtook the crimes
of Alva : for h is son having debauched one of the king’s
attendants, under promise of marriage, he was com¬
mitted to prison ; and being aided in his escape by his
father, and married by him to a cousin of his own,
this procured Alva’s banishment from court, and con¬
finement in the castle of Uzeda. He remained two
years in this disgraceful situation, until the success of
Don Antonio, in assuming the crown of Portugal, de¬
termined Philip to turn his eyes towards a person, in
whose fidelity and abilities he could on this occasion
most confide. A secretary was instantly dispatched to
Alva, to make inquiries concerning the state of his
health, and whether or not it was sufficiently vigorous
to undertake the command of an army. The aged chief
returned an answer full of loyal zeal, and was imme¬
diately appointed to the supreme command in Portu¬
gal. It is a singular fact, however, that the enlarge¬
ment and elevation of Alva was not followed by for¬
giveness. It is a characteristic mark of the unrelenting
temper of Philip, and, at the same time, a noble testi¬
mony to the honour and loyalty of Alva, that although
placed in this important trust, he did not procure his
pardon. In 1581, Alva entered Portugal, defeated
Antonio, drove him from the kingdom, and soon re¬
duced the whole under the subjection of Philip. En¬
tering Lisbon, he seized an immense treasure j and with
their accustomed violence and rapacity, he suffered his
soldiers to sack the suburbs and vicinity. It is report¬
ed, that Alva being requested to give an account of
the money expended on that occasion, he sternly replied,
“ If the king asks me for an account, I will make him
a statement of kingdoms preserved or conquered, of
signal victories, of successful sieges, and of sixty years
service.” Philip deemed it proper to make no farther
inquiries. Alva, however, did not enjoy the honours
and rewards of his last expedition, for in 1582, at the
age of 75, he was removed by death to the impartial
tribunal of heaven, to receive the just rewards of his ini¬
quitous life.
The actions already enumerated give such an am¬
ple idea of his character, that little more is necessary
to complete it. In him a variety of extremes concen¬
tred. Some of the best qualities of a commander were
blended with some of the worst that ever existed in
a man or in a general. The Spanish severity, little
tempered by the spirit of generosity, appeared in all
its horrible deformity in Alva. A strict impartial dis¬
cipline was his greatest military virtue, and vanity
was his greatest weakness. In consequence of this
stiict discipline, he sometimes punished the unlicensed
barbarities of his soldiers ; and there is an instance re¬
corded, that when his favourite son Frederick, think¬
ing he could attack the prince of Orange with advan¬
tage, sent a request to his father for permission, he re¬
ceived a stern reprimand, for presuming to exercise
his judgment on a point already determined by bis su¬
perior, with a threatening in case of repetition. (Ge?i,
JSiog.).
ALVA H, the wood wherewith Moses sweetened the
waters of Marah, Exod. ch. xv. ver. 23.—The name of
this wood is not found in Scripture j but the Mahome¬
tans give it that of alvah, and pretend to trace its histo-
ly fiom the patriarchs before the flood. Josephus, oh
the contrary, says, that Moses used the wood which he
found next lying before him.
ALVARES de luna, treasurer, and a great fa¬
vourite of John II. king of Castile, was famous for the
prodigious ascendency he gained over this prince, and
for the punishment which at length overtook him. He
was a natural son of Don Alvaro de Luna, lord of
Canete in Aragon, and of a woman of infamous cha¬
racter. He was born in 1388, and named Peter ; but
Pope Benedict XIH. who was charmed with his wit
though yet a child, changed Peter to Alvares. He
was introduced to court in 1408, and made a gentle¬
man of the bedchamber to King John, with whom he
grew into the highest favour. In 1427 he was obliged
to retire: the courtiers exerted all their endeavours to
ruin him : they complained, that a man of no military
skill, of no virtues whatever, should by mere artifice
and dissimulation, he advanced to the highest autho¬
rity 3 and they could not bear, that by the assistance
of a few upstart men, whom he had raised and fixed
to his interest, he should reign as absolutely as if he
were king.
They prevailed against him, and Alvares was banish¬
ed from court a year and a half: but this was the
greatest affliction imaginable to the king ; who show¬
ed all marks of distress the moment he was removed
from his presence, and now thought and spoke of no¬
thing but Alvares. He was therefore recalled 3 and,
being invested with his usual authority, revenged him¬
self severely upon his enemies, by persuading the king
to banish them. Of the 45 years he spent at court, he
enjoyed for 30 of them so entire an ascendancy over
the king, that nothing could be done without his ex¬
press orders : nay, it is related by Mariana, that the
king could not change an officer or servant, or even his
clothes or diet, without the approbation of Alvares.
In short, he wanted nothing to complete his grandeur
but the name of king : he had all the places in the
kingdom at his disposal 3 he was master of the treasury,
and by bounties had so gained the hearts of the subjects,
that the king, though his eyes were now opened, and
his affections sufficiently turned against him, durst not
complain.
But the day of reckoning was approaching, and at
length he was seized 3 yet not directly, openly, and vio¬
lently, but with some of that management which up¬
on a similar occasion was formerly employed by Tibe¬
rius against Seianus. During his confinement, he made
5 C * several
A L V
[ 75^ ]
A L V
Alvarcs, several attempts to speak to the king in person j but
Alvarez, not being able to effect this, he sent the following let-
—-1 ter, from which, as well as from the rest of Alva-
res’s history, all court favourites may draw abundant
matter for edification and instruction. “ Sir, It is five
“ and forty years since I was admitted into your ser-
“ vice. I do not complain of the rewards I have
“ received : they were greater than my merits or ex-
“ pectation, as I shall not deny. There was but one
“ thing wanting to complete my happiness j and that
“ was, to have fixed proper limits in time to this great
“ fortune of mine. While, instead of choosing retire-
“ ment, after the example of the greatest men, I still
“ continued in the employment, which I thought not
“ only my duty, but necessary for your interest, I fell
“ into this misfortune. It is very hard that I should
“ be deprived of liberty, when I have risked life and
“ fortune more than once to restore it to you. Griet
“ prevents me from saying more. I know that the
“ Deity is provoked against me by my sins j but it will
“ be sufficient for me, if his anger is appeased by the
“ calamities I now suffer. I can no longer bear that
“ prodigious mass of riches, which it was wrong in
“ me to have heaped together. I should willingly
“ resign them, but that every thing I have is in your
“ power j and 1 am denied the opportunity of showing
“ mankind, that you have raised a person to the height
“ of greatness, who can contemn wealth as well as pro-
“ cure it, and give it back to him from whom he re-
“ ceived it. But I desire you by the strongest terms,
“ that, as I was obliged by the lowness of the trea-
“ sury, to raise 10,000 or 12,000 crowns by methods
“ I ought not to have taken, you will restore them to
“ the persons from whom they were extorted. If you
“ will not grant this on account of the services I have
“ done, yet I think it necessary to be done from the
“ reason of the thing.”
This letter, however, produced no effect in his favour :
Alvares was tried, and condemned to lose his head. Af¬
ter condemnation, he was removed to Valladolid j and
having confessed himself, and received the sacrament,
he w'as carried upon a mule to the market-place, in the
middle of which a large scaffold was erected. Mount¬
ing the scaffold, he paid revex-ence to the cross, and pre¬
sently gave his hat and signet to his page, saying,
“ These are the last gifts you will ever receive from
me.” He then submitted himself to the axe with the
utmost intrepidity.
ALVAREZ, Francis, a Portuguese priest, and
almoner to Emanuel king of Portugal, flourished
about the beginning of the 16th century. He was
sent ambassador from Portugal to David prince of A-
byssinia j and after a residence of six years in that coun¬
try, returned with letters of friendship from David to
Juan, who had succeeded Emanuel, and of submission
to Pope Clement VII. At Bologna, in the year 1523,
he gave a narrative of his expedition to the pope, in
the presence of the emperor Charles V. In the year
1540, he published the relation of his journey in one
volume folio, in the Portuguese language. lie gives
a plain and accurate description of this empire ; and we
are indebted to him for the first of the kind that ever
was published. This work was translated into Latin,
under the title of Dc Fide, Begione, Moribus Ethio-
puviy by Damien Goez, a Portuguese gentleman $ and
has often been reprinted and translated into other lan¬
guages. The information of Alvarez is not, however,
to be received with implicit credit, because he does not
always speak from his own observation, and he frequent¬
ly exaggerates. {Diet. Hist.).
ALU DELS, in the older and more complicated che¬
mical apparatus, were earthen pots without bottoms, in¬
serted into each other, and used in sublimations.
ALVEARIUM, in Anatomy, the bottom of the con¬
cha, or hollow of the outer ear.
Alvearium also signifies a bee-hive. The word is
formed of alveus, “ channel or cavity,” in allusion to
the alveoli or cells in bee-hives.
Some of the ancients use also the word alvearium
for a bee-house, more usually called among us apiary.
Aevearium is sometimes also used figuratively, to
denote a collection j in which sense, alvearium amounts
to much the same with what we otherwise call the¬
saurus, cornucopia, or the like. Vine. Boreus has pub¬
lished an alvearium of law.
ALVEOLUS, in Natural Histoiy, the name of the
waxen cells in bee-hives. Also the name of a sea fos¬
sil of a conic figure, composed of a number of cells like
bee-hives, joined into each other with a pipe of com¬
munication.
Alveolus, in Anatomy, the sockets in the .jaws
wherein the teeth are fixed. Some writers speak of
teeth growing without alveoli. Pliny mentions a per¬
son who had a tooth in his palate. Eustachius relates
that he saw a man at 60 who had a tooth growing out
of the middle of his fauces. Haller gives an instance
of a person whose teeth were of a piece with his jaws,
without any insertion into alveoli.
ALVIANO, Bartholomew, a Venetian gene¬
ral, flourished in the beginning of the 16th century.
His talents were well calculated for the conduct of mi¬
litary affairs, and in the early part of his life, raised
him to great reputation. In the year 1508, he gained
such signal victories over the emperor Maximilian, that
he was decreed triumphal honours by the republic.
During the famous league of Venice, he was second
in command along with Count Pitigliano. It was,
however, unfavourable to the cause in which they had
engaged, that the tempers of the two commanders-
were very different. The commander in chief was he¬
sitating and cautious. The other was bold and intre¬
pid. Alviano commanded the rear-guard at the famous
battle of Aignadel, and after displaying the greatest
exertions of valour was wounded, ovei-powered, and
at last taken prisoner. An increasing tribute was paid
to the military talents of Alviano j for after the Ve¬
netians had become the allies of France, he was in¬
trusted with the command of their army. When the
emperor attacked Padua, he defended it against him,,
and displayed numerous acts of valour in repulsing the
imperial troops. But the current of human life runs not
equally smooth on its attendance upon any character;
for he lost the great battle of La Motte, in which,
however, his exertions were so conspicuous, that the
senate gave him the most honourable assurance of the
continuance of their esteem. Fortune, however, soon
became propitious to this gi’eat man, and he defeated
the enemy in Friuli. In the desperate battle of Marig-
nana, he afforded such timely aid to Francis I. that
it greatly contributed to his success. But the most vi-.
gorous
Alvaros
, H
Alviano
am*
A hi”
u-y
ALU l 757 1 A L U
Abiano, gol-ous constitution must one day yield to the force of
Alum. constant exertions, and the most incessant fatigue:
—-v-—-1 jie jia(i incurred such hardships in superintending the
works at the siege of Breccia, that he was seized with
a fever, of which he died at the advanced age of 60.
His character stands high in the annals of military fame.
By a strict observance of discipline, and a profuse libe¬
rality to his soldiers, he secured their esteem. As
an unequivocal proof of this, they kept his body unbu¬
ried twenty-five days, carrying it about with them dur¬
ing their marches with all funeral pomp. His loss was
deeply regretted by the state, and, as a proof there¬
of, his body was buried at the public charge, his
unprovided family was supported by a liberal pension,
and his daughters were portioned by the state. {Gen.
Stag.).
ALUM, in Chemistry, a clear and transparent sa¬
line matter, usually sold in large masses, of a very au¬
stere and astringent taste, useful in medicine and in
various arts.
Most of the alum to be met with is artificially pre¬
pared by the methods related in their proper place un¬
der the article Chemistry, or by others similar to
them : though sometimes a small quantity is produced
naturally. This native alum is mixed with heteroge¬
neous matters, or effloresces in various forms upon the
ores during calcination. It rarely occurs in a crystal¬
lized state, though thus it is said to be met with in
Egypt, Sardinia, Spain, Bohemia, and other places.
It is also found in waters impregnated with fixed airs,
but very seldom in fountains or hot medicated waters.
There are several kinds of alum to be met ivith }
but these differ from one another only in being mixed
with some salts which are not of the aluminous kinds.
That called the Homan alum has been considered as
preferable to any other. This is usually met with in
small crystals, and has a reddish colour, most probably
owing to a small quantity of calx of iron, which, how¬
ever, does not in the least impair its qualities. The
other kinds of alum contain a portion either of vitriolat-
ed tartar or sal ammoniac, according to the nature of
the alkali used in its preparation. Mr Bergman informs
us, that the vegetable alkali, if pure, does not hurt the
alum, though it be added in the preparation ; but that
the volatile alkali, by adulterating it with a portion of
vitriolic sal ammoniac, renders it unfit for some pur¬
poses. The alum, made by adding a portion of clay to
the liquor at the beginning of the boiling, he considers
as equal, if not superior, to Roman alum. He informs
us also, that a kind of alum some time ago began to be
manufactured at Brunswick, which was equal in quality
to the Roman alum. On a chemical analysis of this
alum he found it mixed with cobalt.
This salt is extremely useful in the art of dyeing j as
by means of it a great number of colours are fixed and
rendered permanent upon cloth, which otherwise would
either not adhere in any degree, or only for a very
short time. In what manner this is accomplished, we
are very much ignorant y the conjectures and theories
on this subject are related under the article Dyeing.
It constitutes the basis of crayons, which generally con¬
sist of the earth of alum finely powdered and tinged
for the purpose. In the preparation of Prussian blue, it
prevents the basis of martial vitriol, which is soluble in
acids, from being precipitated by the superfluous alkali
employed in the preparation of that pigment j that is,
the alkali which is not coloured by the saturating mat¬
ter. As this basis adheres more strongly than the clay
to the vitriolic acid, and would form a green by the
mixture of its yellowness, the white earth of alum like¬
wise, according to its quantity, dilutes the darker co¬
lours, even black itself, and produces an infinite num¬
ber of shades. It is also of use in the making of can¬
dles : for, being mixed with the tallow, it gives it a
hardness and consistence which it has not naturally.
Mood sufficiently soaked in a solution of alum does not
easily take fire j and the same is true of paper impreg¬
nated with it $ which, for that reason, is very properly
employed in preserving gunpowder, as it also excludes
the moisture of the air. Paper impregnated with alum
is useful in whitening silver, and silvering brass without
heat. Alum is also of use in tanning, where it assists
in restoring the cohesion of the skins, almost entirely de¬
stroyed by the lime. Vintners fine down their wines,
&c. with alum j fishers use it to dry cod fish with ; and
bakers have mixed it with the flour to make their bread
compact and white: to this last use of it great objec¬
tions have been made ; but unjustly, for it is entirely,
innocent. It is now seldom used.
In medicine it is of considerable use as an astrin¬
gent and tonic. It is reckoned particularly serviceable
for restraining hemorrhages, and immoderate secretions
from the blood ; but less proper in intestinal fluxes. In
violent hemorrhages, it may be given in doses of 15.
or 20 grains, and repeated every hour or half hour
till the bleeding abates: in other cases, smaller doses
are more advisable ; large ones are apt to nauseate
the stomach, and occasion violent constipations of the
bowels. It is used also externally, in astringent and
repellent lotions and collyria. Burnt alum taken in¬
ternally has been highly extolled in cases of colic. In
such instances, when taken to the extent of a scruple
for a dose, it has been said gently to move the belly,
and give very great relief from the severe pain. Its
officinal preparations are, for internal use, pulvis stypti-
cus, and aqua styptica; for external applications, the
aqua aluminis, and coagulum ajuminis and alumen
ustum ; which last is no other than the alum dried by
fire, or freed from the watery moisture, which, like
other salts, it always retains in its crystalline form. By.
this loss of its water it becomes sharper, so as to act aa
a slight escharotic j and it is chiefly with this inten¬
tion that it is employed in medicine, being very rarely
taken internally. For these preparations, see Phar¬
macy. See also Alum, Supplement.
Alum Mines are said to have been first found in Italy
in the year 1460; and in 1506 King Henry VII. made
a monopolizing grant of this commodity to Augustine
Chigi, a merchant of Sienna. In the year 1608, the
manufacture of alum was first invented, and successfully
practised in England, meeting with great encourage¬
ment in Yorkshire, where it was first made, from Lord
Sheffield, and the other gentlemen of that county.
King James I. by advice of his ministry, assumed the
monopoly of it to himself, and therefore prohibited the
importation of foreign alum j and in 1625 the importa¬
tion of it was further prohibited by the proclamation of
Charles I.
AhUM-Works, places where alum is prepared, and
manufactured in quantities for sale. They difl'er from
alum
A L Y [ 758 ] A L Y
Aluntium alum mines, as in the former an artificial alum, and in
II the latter natural alum, is produced.
Aiypius. , ALUNTIUM, Aloktium, in Ancient Geography,
a town in the north of Sicily, situated on a steep emi¬
nence, at the mouth of the Chydas 5 said to be as old
as the war of Troy. It is now in ruins ; and from
these has arisen the hamlet St Philadelfo, in the Val
di Ilemona. The inhabitants were called Haluntini.
ALVUS, in Anatomy, a term used for the belly in
general, but more frequently applied to the bowels.
ALWAIDII, a sect of Mahometans who believe all
great crimes to be unpardonable.—The Alwaidii stand
in opposition to the Morgii. They attribute less effi¬
cacy to the true belief in the salvation of men than the
rest of the Mussulmans.
ALYPIUS of Antioch, a geographer of the fourth
century. He was sent deputy-governor by the empe¬
ror Julian into Britain ; and after he remained in this
situation for some time, he received orders from the
emperor to rebuild the temple of Jerusalem. Ammia-
nus Marcellinus, the Roman historian, informs us, that
during the progress of the work, whilst it was proceed¬
ing with great rapidity, huge balls of fire issued
forth in the vicinity of the foundations, which inter¬
rupted the men at their labour, and even sometimes
consumed them with its violence. Thus the place
being rendered inaccessible, they were reluctantly
constrained to desist from their undei-taking. Dif¬
ferent sentiments have been entertained of this pheno¬
menon 5 but the reader may consult, for his own satis¬
faction, what has been written by Lardner and Gib¬
bon concerning it. In the evening of his life, after
he had retired from the service of the public, Aiy¬
pius, in conjunction with several other persons, was
formally accused of the crime of practising magic. In
consequence of which, he w'as punished with banish¬
ment and confiscation of property, and Hierocles his
son was condemned to capital punishment. Ammia-
nus Marcellinus, whilst he mentions that the crime for
which they suffered, was that of administering poison to
others, at the same time freely delivers his opinion,
that they were the victims of the general injustice and
oppression which reigned at that period, and extended
their sway even to the most retired habitations. The
emperor Julian himself honoured Aiypius with his con¬
fidence, and speaks of him with great respect. “ As
10 your conduct in public aftairs (says the emperor), it
gives me pleasure to observe the assiduity and humani¬
ty which appear in all your transactions $ for so to tem¬
per lenity and moderation with firmness and fortitude,
tnat the good may experience the benefit of the for¬
mer, and the bad may be corrected by the latter, re¬
quires no small share of ability and virtue.” Aiypius
composed a geographical work which is said to have
gained the approbation of the emperor, but this work
has shared the same fate as many other productions of
antiquity. Some have ascribed the work which God¬
frey published under the title of “ A Description of
the Old W'orld printed in 4to, at Geneva, to Aiy¬
pius ; but since that author speaks of Britain, not mere¬
ly from report, but his own observation ; this, toge¬
ther with the testimony of some writers, leads to the
conclusion, that this “ Description” is an anonymous
work published in the reigns of Constantins and Con-
stans. {Gen. Biog.).
Alypius, one of the seven Greek writers on music,
which Meibomius hath industriously collected and pub¬
lished, with a commentary and explanatory notes. The
time in which he flourished cannot be precisely ascertain¬
ed. He is said to have wrote before Euclid and Ptolemy;
and Cassiodorus arranges his work, entitled “ Introduc¬
tion to Music,” between that of Nicomachus and Gau-
dentius. In this work is to be found the most complete
nomenclature of all the sounds of the diflerent scales and
modes of the ancient Greek music, which have escaped
the wreck of time. So complex was the science of
music in Greece at this period, that the characters used
for sounds were 1620 in number. The 24 letters of
the alphabet furnished these notes, sometimes in an en¬
tire, sometimes in a mutilated, and sometimes in an al¬
tered form ; and numerous discriminations of these took
place by means of the accents and varied positions of
letters.
From the MS. of Joseph Scaliger, Meursius first
published this tract in 1616 5 but according to the te¬
stimony of Fabricius, it is by no means correct. Ex¬
tracts have been published from Alypius, by Kircher,
in his Musurgia, 1650, alleging that he translated
the whole into Latin 5 but this table of ancient musi¬
cal notations is so inaccurate, which he has inserted from
him, that Meibomius, who consulted not only the Greek
MS. of Scaliger, but that of Belejanus, Barocus, Barbe-
ritti, and Selden, affirms, that he found in it more than
200 errors. The learned Meibomius, with incredible
industry, decyphered those characters, which previous
to his time were so much confounded, disfigured, and
corrupted, either through the ignorance or inattention
of the transcribers of ancient MSS. This advantage re¬
sulted to the science of music, chiefly by his commen¬
taries on Greek musicians, and particularly on the works
of Alypius.
Alypius ofTagasta, a Christian divine who flou¬
rished in the fourth century. In the year 388, he was
baptized along with Augustine, and, in consequence of
a similarity ot dispositions and religious sentiments, they
became strongly attached to each other. In quest of
information and improvement, he took a journey into
Palestine ; and returning home, he soon acquired such
general esteem, that he was appointed bishop of his
native city. He had adopted in the early part of his
life the opinions of the Manichees: but in conse¬
quence of farther information and matured experi¬
ence, he became a powerful advocate for the Catholic
faith. The Donatists flourished about this period, and
arrogantly claimed the exclusive honour of being the
true church j but he, along with his friend Augustine,
united his exertions in opposing the tenets of that sect.
In the council of Carthage in the year 403, the eru¬
dition and talents of Alypius, along with several other
eminent divines, were unsuccessfully employed in en¬
deavouring to reclaim them, and to bring them again
into the bosom of the church. In 411 Alypius was
one of the seven who held a friendly and theological
conference with seven of the Donatist bishops. But
all the eloquence and strength of argument made
use of by these divines, although seconded by the pe¬
nal degrees of the emperor Honorius, were unsuccess¬
ful in producing a recantation of their errors, or a
peaceful union with their brethren. In support of the
Catholic faith, Alypius appears to have vigorously ex¬
erted
A M A [ 759 ] A M A
Alypius erted Ins talents ; and it is much to be regretted that tory, where they pm chase tine chintz, calicoes, and Amadab a
Ji , the n,efns he employed for that purpose were not at all other Indian merchandise. The place is so full of gardens H
. ,>a a * '■ timf,t 6 most honourable ; fur in the violence of his stored with fruit trees, that from an eminence it looks Amadeus.
zeal he went as deputy from the churches of Africa like a wood. The Hindoos have here an hospital for' v  
to the emperor Hononus, m order to obtain severe sick beasts, and another for sick birds, which they take
decrees against the sect of the Pelagians. Although great care of. A great proportion of the itinerant mu-
Alypius failed in his attempts to reclaim the Dona- sicians. players, and poets, so common throughout the
tists from error, yet he was successful with the em- province, come from this city. It was taken by the
peror in obtaining penal decrees against the Pelagi- British in 1780, but restored'in 1783.
aus ; in consequence of which their ministers were AMADAN, or Ramadan, a town of Persia, be-
oanished, their churches demolished, and their assem- tween Taurus and Ispahan. E. Lono-. 47. 4. N. Lat.
bhes discontinued. Alypius died about the year 430, 35. 15. It is seated at the foot of a mountain, where
and Ins dispositions appear to have participated more there are a great many springs, which water ike adja-
of the violence of zeal, than of the meekness of cha- cent country. The extent of the city is very large; but
rity’ there are a great many waste spots within it, as well as
ALYboUM, Alysson, or Alysoides, Madwort; cultivated land. The houses are built of brick harden-
(from ciXvrru, to be mad; because it was believed to ed in the sun, and have but a very indifferent aspect,
have the property of curing madness). See Botany There is but one tolerable street j and that is where
/We,*. . , stuffs, garments, and the like, are exposed to sale: it
. ALiY 1 AxtCHA, a priest of Antioch in Syria, who, is straight, long, and wide ; and the shops are very well
111 the games instituted in honour of the gods, presided furnished. The adjacent parts are fruitful in corn and
over the officers who carried rods to clear away the rice, insomuch that the neighbouring provinces are sup-
ciowd and keep order. plied from hence. It is said to enjoy a very salubrious
In the Olympic games, the alytarches had the same air j but the cold in winter is intense. The Armenians
command, and obliged every person to preserve order have a church in this town ; but it is a very ill contriv-
an<l a’ . . , T et^ structure. The Jews have a synagogue near a
ALZIBA, a town of Spain, in the kingdom of Va- tomb, where they pretend Esther and Mordecai lie in-
lencia, seated on the river Xucar. E. Long. o. 20. terred. To this place they come in pilgrimage from
^ 39* I0’ . . . several parts of the Levant. About a league from
AMA, in ecclesiastical writers, denotes a vessel Amadan, there is a mountain called Nalba?ia, which
wherein wine, water, or the like, were held, for the abounds with all sorts of curious herbs. In the spring,
service of the eucharist. In this sense the word is also people flock to this mountain from all parts to recover
written amula ; sometimes also hama, and hamula. their health, by sucking in the salutary effluvia with
Ama is sometimes also used for a wine measure, as a their breath. 1
cask, pipe, or the like. Amadan is a very ancient city. It is said to have
AMABYR, a barbarous custom which formerly pre- been destroyed by Nebuchadnezzar, and rebuilt by
vailed in several parts of England and Y ales, being a Darius, who brought hither all his riches. The kings
sum of money paid to the lord when a maid was mar- of Persia frequently retired to this place on account of
lied within his lordship. The word is old British, and its delightful situation 5 for which reason it obtained the
signifies “ the price of virginity.” name of the lioyal City. It was conquered by the ca-
AMACK. See AmaK. liph Othman, and narrowly escaped being destroyed by
AMADABAT, a corruption from Ahmed abad, Jenghiz Khan in 1220. It had then strong walls and
or Ahmed's city (so called from a king of that name) ; a good castle, which are now in ruins. Its present
a large and populous city of Indostan, and the capital beauty consists in its gardens and springs,
of the province of Guzerat. It is situated in E. Long. AMADANAGER, a town in the hither peninsula
72. 36. N. Lat. 22. 38. Amadabat was formerly cal- of India, in the province of Decan. E. Long. 74. 13.
led Guxerat; and by Shah Jeh&n nicknamed Gherd- N. Lat. 18. 10. It was taken by the Moguls in 1398,
abad, or “ the habitation of dust,” because it was much after a siege of six months j being at that time defend-
mcommoded therewith. It was the seat of the Guzerat ed by a strong castle, situated on an eminence, and sur-
kings, but belongs now to the Poonah Mahrattas. I he rounded with deep ditches, into which several springs
city stands in a beautiful plain, and is watered by the discharged their waters.
little river Sabremetti, which, though not deep, in time AMADEUS V. count of Savoy, arose to that dig-
of rains overflows the plains prodigiously. The walls nity in the year 1285. In him it appeared, that
are built with stone and brick, flanked at certain di- mental excellence can rise superior to riches or extent
stances with great round towers and battlements. It has of territory j for although his dominions were by no
twelve gates j and, including the suburbs, is about four means extensive, nor his riches great, yet, in conse-
miles and a half long. The streets are wide. The quence of his wisdom and success, he obtained the sur-
meydan shah, or king’s square, is 700 paces long, and name of Great. The cautious prudence of Amadeus,
400 broad, planted round with trees. On the west however, enabled him greatly to increase bis territory
side is the castle, well walled with freestone, and as by means of marriage, purchase, and donations. In
spacious as a little city j but its inward appearance is this situation, with extended dominion, and distinguish-
not conformable to its external magnificence. The ed for wisdom and prudence, he rose to such eminence
caravansera is on the south of the square, and its chief among the European powers, that he was constituted
ornament. In the midst of the city is the English fac- their umpire to settle their differences j and .in that sta¬
tion
A M A [ ?6o ] A M A
Amadeus, tion acquitted himself with much reputation and gene-
 v—“c— ral utility. But in his character valour and wisdom
were combined ; for when the Turks attempted to re¬
take the isle of Rhodes from the knights of St John of
Jersusalem, he boldly defended it, and acquired great
renown. A Maltese cross with the letters F. E. R. T.
in future became the arms of Amadeus and his succes¬
sors, in memory of this signal victory. The explanation
of this motto is said to be, Fortitudo ejus Rhodum te-
r.uit.—“ His valour kept Rhodes.” For this important
service the grandmaster conferred on him the grant of
a palace at Lyons. Andronicus the emperor of the east
had married his daughter j and in order to promote the
views of his son-in-law, Amadeus took a journey to
Avignon to persuade Pope John XXII. to preach a
crusade in favour of Andronicus. In the year 1323 the
famous Amadeus died at that place. Deep penetration,
keen discernment, consummate prudence, great valour,
together with no small portion of the religious supersti¬
tion of his time, appear to have been the reigning fea¬
tures in his character. (Mod. Univ. Hist.').
Amadeus VIII. count of Savoy, in 1391, succeed¬
ed his father Amadeus VII. With the large sum of
45,000 florins of gold he purchased the country of
Lienevois fi’om its last earl. Anxious to extend his
territories, he purchased the city of Rumilli, upon the
lake of Geneva, from the widow of the count of Gene-
vois, and thus the house of Savoy became so illustri¬
ous that the emperor Sigismund erected Savoy into a
duchy in the year 1426. Historians relate, that he
assisted John Paieologus against the duke of Milan,
who endeavoured to wrest from him the duchy of
Montferrat. Deeply sensible of the services which he
had received, Paieologus not only resigned to the duke,
Chivas, Brandis, and several other estates, but submit¬
ted to hold all the marquisate of Montferrat as a fief
from the house of Savoy. These fortunate acquisitions
of territory were not yet limited $ for upon the mar¬
riage of his daughter with Philip Maria, duke of Mi¬
lan, he received Vercelli, and about the same time the
count of Crescentino submitted to become his feo-
dary. In his ambitious pursuit, he laid claim to the
sovereignty of the city of Geneva ; but that claim,
though enforced by the pope, was rejected by the
citizens with disdain, and the emperor Sigismuad
taking it under his protection, declared it an imperial
city. After such an extensive acquisition of dominion,
and amassing such sums of money, he formed the sin¬
gular scheme of abandoning his throne and family ;
and for that purpose retired to a religious house at a
placed called Ripaillc. But although he resigned the
dukedom of Savoy to Iris eldest son Lewis, and made
his youngest son Philip, count of Genevois ; yet their
honours were merely nominal, for he constrained them
to live on a very scanty allowance, while he in his
retirement received all the revenues, and collected
such sums of money, that he is said to have purchased
the papal honours. During the previous part of his
life, having adopted great sanctity of manners, the mo¬
tives for his retirement were generally reckoned reli¬
gious ; but what was the astonishment of mankind to
behold the seat of his hermitage become the habi¬
tation of every rare delicacy, and of the most refined
•luxury ! The local situation of the place was truly
delightful, and was enriched with every thing that
could afford gratification to the senses j and his retinue Amadeus
consisted of some of his most intimate friends, along—y—1
with 20 faithful servants, who were the guardians of
his voluptuous secrets. Neither did he assume a religi¬
ous habit, but wore purple robes, and upon his mantle
wras embroidered a golden cross. His table groaned un¬
der the weight of luxurious dainties, and the most ex¬
cellent music cheered the daily feast; in short, such was
the voluptuousness of that place, that in the French
language the phrase, faire ripailles, signifies to make
exquisite good cheer.
He instituted a secular knighthood in that place un¬
der the appellation of St Maurice. The brethren as¬
sumed the name of hermits, wore beards, and excluded
women from their community; and in other respects
composed the character of decent epicures.
When he obtained the papal dignity, and was
crowned by the cardinal of Arles at Basil, all Europe
was filled with astonishment in consequence of his ele¬
vation ; for he had never entered into holy orders.
But he had found means to remove every objection,
the council confirmed his election, and vrith pretend¬
ed reluctance he put on the pontifical ornaments,
and was consecrated in the church of St Maurice.
It seemed good to Amadeus to assume the title of
Felix \. As might naturally be expected in such
circumstances, the papal dignity was severely con¬
tested between him and Eugenius; and notwithstand¬
ing all the importunities of the council, the emperor
refused to acknowledge his elevation. This religi¬
ous dispute involved all Europe in contention. Hi¬
storians relate that Germany remained neutral, and
France, England, Italy, Spain, and Hungary, decla¬
red for Eugenius; but Arragon, Poland, and Bretagne,
recognised the council only ; at the same time that
Savoy, Switzerland, Basil, Strasburg, Pomerania, and
one of the duchies of Bavaria, recognised Felix. The
emperor Frederick III. held a council at Frank¬
fort, before which both the popes urged their respec¬
tive rights by means of deputies. This attempt, how¬
ever, to regain peace to Europe was unsuccessful ;
therefore the emperor repaired to the vicinity of Basil,
and had a personal interview with Felix. The mind of
Amadeus was now so confirmed in the enjoyment of
pleasui-e, that he had again returned to his favourite re¬
treat ; and after the fathers of the council had frequent¬
ly solicited him in vain to reside at Basil, he prevailed
upon them to remove to Lyons, which was near the
seat of his pleasui'es. During the contest, Eugenius had
excommunicated Felix, the council, and several of the
German princes, so that the whole church was then
filled with confusion and disorder. The death of Eu¬
genius, however, terminated the struggle ; for upon his
death the cardinals at Rome elected Thomas de Sar-
zan, who assumed the name of Nicholas V. In this
situation of affairs, Amadeus deemed it prudent to en¬
ter into a negociation for the resignation of his pa¬
pal crown. In this transaction he displayed the pro-
fbundest policy and address, which induced Nicho¬
las to annul all that Eugenius had done to his dis¬
honour, or that of his associates ; to confirm the de¬
termination of the council of Basil to appoint him per¬
petual apostolical legate in Savoy, Piedmont, and the
other places of his own dominions, and even added to
these the honour of being bishop of Basil, Lausanne,
Strasburg,
[ 7Sl
Anjadow.
A M A
Amadeus Strasburg and Constance. Nor did his vanity forsake
him even in this political transaction, for he provided
that he should continue to wear the pontifical dress
unless in a very few particulars. In order to gratify
the same haughty disposition, he stipulated that he should
not be obliged to go to Rome to attend any general
council} and that when he had occasion to approach
the pope, he should rise to receive him, and instead of
kissing his toe, he should be permitted to kiss his cheek.
Amadeus retired to Lausanne, and died there at the age
of 60, in the year 1451.
As the time in which he lived is fertile in memora¬
ble events, so the character of Amadeus was one of
the most distinguished of his time. The versatility of
his genius has led writers to differ in the delineation of
his character. Some have represented him as a person
of singular sanctity of manners, and possessed of uncom¬
mon moderation and virtue ; others have represented
him as a confirmed bigot, and a violent enthusiast j and
a third class of authors have magnified his talents far
above the general standard, and extolled him as one of
the most accomplished princes in Europe. His real
character appears to be a compound of extravagancies,
in which virtue, genius, caprice, and vanity were
blended. (Mod. Univ. Hist.).
Amadeus IX. count of Savoy, succeeded his fa¬
ther Lewis, in his dominion and honours. The prince
who exerts his talents to promote the happiness of his
subjects, is worthy of more fame than the prince who
increases the number of his subjects by unjust and un¬
necessary wars. In this view Amadeus IX. deserves a
place in the annals of his nation. His bodily constitu¬
tion was weak, and he was afflicted with the falling¬
sickness, yet, in consequence of his piety, virtue, bene¬
volence, and justice, he was surnamed the Happy.
The clemency of his temper was such that he readily
pardoned those who offended him, and in few instances
was he induced to punish. In his character, however,
the virtue of benevolence shone with peculiar splendour
among the other virtues of the Christian. A foreign
minister one day used the freedom to inquire at Ama¬
deus, if he kept any hounds. The duke replied, “ a
great number, and you shall see them to-morrow at
noon.” The minister attended at that hour in expec¬
tation of seeing a numerous pack of hounds; but the
duke led him to a window which looked into an ex¬
tensive square, and directing his view to a multitude of
poor people eating and drinking, he exclaimed, “ These
are my hounds, with whom I go in chase of heaven.”
Ln all these pious and benevolent labours he was se¬
conded by his wife folande of France. When one of
his parsimonious courtiers reminded him that he would
spend all his revenues, he generously replied, “ Here
is the collar of my order, let them sell it and relieve
my people.” In the seventh year of his reign, and the
thirty-seventh of his life, he died universally lamented
by all his loyal subjects, in the year 1472. In high
esteem for his virtuous qualities, his subjects conferred
on him the appellation of The Blessed. {Mod. Univ.
Hist.').
AMADIA, a trading town of Asia, in Curdistan,
belonging to the Turks ; seated on a high mountain.
E. Long. 43. 1. N. Lat. 36. 25.
AM ADO W, a kind of black match, tinder, or
touchwood, which comes from Germany. It is made
Vol. I. Part II. f
] A M A
of a sort of large mushrooms or spongy excrescences, Amadow
which commonly grow on old trees, especially oaks, ||
ash, and firs. I his substance being boiled in common Amalaric.
water, and afterwards dried and well beaten, is then '—^
put into a strong ley prepared with saltpetre, after
which it is again put to dry in an oven. The drug¬
gists sell this match wholesale in France, and several
hawkers retail it. Some give to the amadow the name
of pyrotechnical sponge, because of its aptness to take
fire.
AMADOWR1, a kind of cotton which comes from
Alexandria by the way of Marseilles.
AMAIN, in the sea language,' a term importing to
lower something at once, ihus, to strike amain, is to
lower or let fall the topsails j to wave amain, is to make
a signal, by waving a drawn sword, or tbe like, as a de¬
mand that the enemy strike their topsails.
AMAK, a small island in the Baltic sea, near Co¬
penhagen, from which it is separated by a canal over
which there is a drawbridge. Amak is about four
miles long and two broad ; and is chiefly peopled by
the descendants of a colony from East Friesland, to
whom the island was consigned by Christian II. at the
request of his wife Elizabeth, sister of Charles V. for
the purpose of supplying her with vegetables, cheese,
and butter. From the intermarriages of these colonists
with the Danes, the present inhabitants are chiefly de¬
scended ; but as they wear their own dress, and enjoy
peculiar privileges, they appear a distinct race from
the natives. The island contains about six villages,
and between 3000 and 4000 souls. It has two churches,
in which the ministers preach occasionally in Dutch
and Danish. The inhabitants have their own inferior
tribunals ; but in capital offences are amenable to the
king’s court of justice at Copenhagen. The old na¬
tional habit, brought by the original colony when they
first migrated to the island, is still in use amongst them.
It resembles the habit of the ancient Quakers, as repre¬
sented in the pictures of the Dutch and Flemish paint¬
ers. The men wear broad-brimmed hats, black jac¬
kets, full glazed breeches of the same colour, loose at
the knee, and tied round the waist. The women are
dressed chiefly in black jackets and petticoats, with
a piece of blue glazed cloth bound on their heads. The
island is laid out in gardens and pastures 5 and still, ac¬
cording to the original design, supplies Copenhagen
with milk, butter, and vegetables. E. Long. 12. 35.
N. Lat. 55. 30.
AMAL, a town of Sweden, in the province of Da-
land, seated on the river Weser. It has a good harbour,
and carries on a great trade, especially in timber, deals,
and tar. E. Long. 12. 40. N. Lat. 58. 50.
AMALARIC, was the son of Alaric II. and king
of the Visigoths. Deprived of his father when an in¬
fant, he would have been bereft of his crown, had not
his grandfather Theodoric king of the Ostrogoths in¬
terposed in his behalf. In defence of the royal infant,
he expelled from the throne his natural brother, who
had usurped the government, and ruled the kingdom
during his life, and preserved the crown to the natural
heir. In 526 the grandfather died, and Amalaric as¬
sumed the royal authority. In 517 he married Clo¬
tilda, the daughter of Clovis, an amiable lady, who
inherited both the piety and orthodoxy of her mo¬
ther. who was of the same name. The Catholic histo-
5 D rians
A M A [ 762 ] A M A
Amalaiic, rians relate, that the king being violently attached to
Amaiasui- the Arian cause, used means to compel his queen to
tha. embrace the same opinions, which participated more of
^ cruelty than piety. With all the firmness of a great
mind, and the amiable patience of a Christian, she en¬
dured her wrongs for a considerable period} but at
length, worn out with injurious treatment, she was for¬
ced to apply to her brothers for assistance, and sent
them a handkerchief stained with her blood in proof of
her cruel usage. In order to relieve their sister, one
of them, Childebert king of Paris, entered the territories
of Amalaric, who then resided with his court at Nar-
bonne j and their different forces having joined battle,
the troops of Amalaric were totally defeated, and the
king himself forced to save his life by flying into Spain,
A. D. 531. It is reported that, when endeavouring to
regain Narbonne, he was slain either by an assassin,
employed by Theudis his successor, or that he fell in
battle. Some historians again say, that he died in
Barcelona. {Gen. Biog.').
AMALASONTHA, youngest daughter of Theo-
doric the Great, king of the Ostrogoths, was born about
the year 498. The sister of Clovis was her mother,
and in 515, she married Eutharic the only remaining
heir of the legal race of the Amali. Her father hav¬
ing formed the design of making him his successor, he
sent to bring him from Spain for that purpose. But he
never arrived at the destined honour 5 for Eutharic died
previous to his father-in-law, and his only son Athala-
ric, was also bereft of his grandfather at the age of
eight years. The well known abilities of Amalason-
tha induced Tbeodoric to place Athalaric, to Avhom
he had left the kingdom of Italy, under the care of his
mother. This princess inherited an ample share of her
father’s talents 5 and her father had been exceedingly
careful to improve these natural endowments by means
of a liberal education. She became a great proficient
in the philosophy and morals of that age, and with
equal elegance and grace she could converse in the
Greek, Latin, and Gothic languages. Nor were her
talents merely qualified to adorn private life : she dis¬
played them in the administration of public justice, and
political discussion. Her first efforts were in behalf of
the injured children ol Boethius and Symmachus, whom
she reinstated in the possession of their inheritance.
When the chiefs of the Goths were strongly inclined to
treat the Romans as a conquered people, she mildly re¬
strained their violent oppression and their ungovernable
rapacity. Adorning the female character, she relieved
her subjects from some of the severer impositions of her
father; but carefully retained all his laws, magistrates,
and political institutions. Having herself tasted of the
sweets of literature, and experienced its advantages,
she patronized learning with an assiduous care, by
regularly paying the salaries of public teachers, and
giving every encouragement to the improvement of
genius. Her peaceable deportment towards the neigh¬
bouring princes forms an amiable feature in her cha¬
racter. Both with the imperial court, and with all the
other powers, tfhe lived upon agreeable terms, and thus
universal honour and prosperity pi'evailed. Both in
consequence of maternal affection and the high cultiva¬
tion of her mind, she exerted all her ingenuity in the
tducation of her orphan son. Unfortunately, however,
both for the mother and the son, neither the general AmaUxos-
character of the Gothic nation, nor the wayward incli- tha,
nations of the boy, seconded her laudable endeavours. Amalek,
The Gothic nobles had just commenced their murmur- '“‘—"V—•—*
ings against the soft effeminate manner in which their
prince was educating, when, upon a certain day, the
youth having undergone some kind maternal chastise¬
ment, rushed into the room where some of the nobles
were assembled, with the tears streaming from his eyes.
Informed of the cause of his distress, the wrath of the
nobles suddenly arose, and in a violent burst of passion
they insisted upon the immediate release of their prince
from the bondage of learning and from the restraints of
a mother. The unfortunate youth was thus dragged
from the habitation of learning, prudence, and virtue j
and plunged into all the extravagancies of dissolute
pleasure, and his mind inspired with contempt and aver¬
sion to his virtuous mother.
It was impossible for humanity to bear this insult and
high injury without opposition ; therefore, in the first
effusions of her resentment she seized three of the prin¬
cipal persons concerned in this transaction, and confin¬
ed them in one of the remotest parts of Italy. But the
efforts of one or of a few individuals, are never ade¬
quate to the task of counteracting the general efforts
of a nation, for the party whose sentiments were op¬
posed to hers, grew daily in magnitude and strength,
to such a degree that Amalasontha formed serious re¬
solutions of sheltering herself under the protection of
Justinian. After a correspondence had been carried on
to prepare for this event, and when she was about to
sail for that place, she determined to make one bold
effort to regain her absolute power. With this view
she caused the three persons who were in confinement
to be secretly assassinated ", and this action re-establish¬
ed her authority, although it augmented the public
hatred. But another cause of disquiet soon arose. At
the early age of sixteen, her son fell a victim to his
debaucheries and follies, and she was left devoid of any
legal tlaim to the crown. The accomplished and am¬
bitious Amalasontha spurned the idea of retiring to a
private station, and formed the bold design of shar¬
ing the throne with Theodotus her cousin. She had
sufficient penetration to perceive that the dispositions of
that youth were indolent and weak, and consequently
she hoped still to remain at the helm of government. But
the future fortune of that accomplished woman, demon¬
strates to posterity the danger of confiding in human
weakness, where the principles of honour and justice
and virtue are wanting. Theodotus issued an order
for her confinement in an island in the lake Bolsena; and
in the year 535 she was strangled in the bath. Some
historians ascribe this action to the influence of the em¬
press Theodora, who was seized with jealousy in con¬
sequence of the respect shown her by Justinian. (Gen.
Swg.).
AMALEK, the son of Eliphaz, by Timna his con¬
cubine, and the grandson of Esau, Gen. xxxvi. 12. and
1 Chr. i. 36. Amalek succeeded Gatam in the govern¬
ment of Edom. He was the father of the Amalekites j
a powerful people who dwelt in Arabia Petrsea, be¬
tween the Head sea and the Red sea, or between Ha-
vila and Shur (1 Sam. xv. 7.) 5 sometimes in one can¬
ton and sometimes in another. It does not appear that
they
A M A [ 763
Imalek. they had cities 5 for there is no mention of any but one
—■v—' in the Scriptures {id. ib. 5.) j they lived generally in
hamlets, caves, or tents.
The Israelites had scarcely passed theKed sea on their
way to the wilderness, before the Amalekites came to
attack them in the deserts of Rephidim (Exod. xvii. 8.
&c.) 5 and put those cruelly to the sword who were
obliged, either through fatigue or weakness, to remain
behind. Moses, by divine command, directed Joshua to
fall upon this people j to record the act of inhumanity
which they bad committed in a book, in order to have
it always before their eyes j and to revenge it in the
most remarkable manner. Joshua therefore fell upon
the Amalekites and defeated them, while Moses was
upon the mountain, with Aaron and Hur in company.
Moses, during the time of the engagement, held up his
hands, to which the success of the battle was owing ;
for as often as he let them down, Amalek prevailed.
But Moses’s hands being tired, Aaron and Hur sup¬
ported his arms, and held them extended while the
battle lasted, which was from the morning till the ap¬
proach of night, when the Amalekites were cut in
pieces. This happened in the year of the world 2513,
before Christ 1491.
The ground of the enmity of the Amalekites against
the Israelites is generally supposed to have been an in¬
nate hatred, from the remembrance of Jacob’s depriv¬
ing their progenitor both of his birthright and bles¬
sing. Their falling upon them, however, and that
without any provocation, when they saw them reduced
to so low a condition by the fatigue of their march,
and the excessive drought they laboured under, was an
inhuman action, and justly deserved the defeat which
Joshua gave them. Under the Judges (v. 3.), we see
the Amalekites united with the Midianites and Moab¬
ites, in a design to oppress Israel $ but Ehud delivered
the Israelites from Eglon king of the Moabites (Judg.
iii.), and Gideon (chap, viii.) delivered them from the
Midianites and Amalekites. About the year of the
world 2930, Saul marched against the Amalekites, ad¬
vanced as far as their capital, and put all the people of
the country to the sword ; but spared the best of all the
cattle and moveables, contrary to a divine command ;
which act of disobedience was the cause of Saul’s future
misfortunes.
After this war, the Amalekites scarcely appear any
more in history. However, about the year of the
world 2949, a troop of Amalekites came and pillaged
Ziklag, which belonged to David (1 Sam. xxx.), where
he had left his two wives, Ahinoam and Abigail; but
he returning from an expedition which he had made
in the company of Achish into the valley of Jezreel,
pursued them, overtook and dispersed them, and reco¬
vered all the booty which they had carried off from
Ziklag. '
The Arabians maintain Amalek to have been the
son of Ham, and grandson of Noah ; that he was the
father of Ad, and grandfather of Schedad. Calmet
thinks that this opinion is by no means to be rejected,
as it is not very probable that Amalek, the son of Eli-
phaz, and grandson of Esau, should be the father of a
people so powerful and numerous as the Amalekites
were when the Israelites departed out of Egypt. Moses
in the book, of Genesis (xiv. 7.) relates, that in Abra¬
ham’s time, long before the birth of Amalek, the son
] A M A
of Eliphaz, the five confederate kings carried the war
into Amalek’s country, about Kadesh j and into that
of the Amorites, about Hazezon-tamar. The same
Moses (Num. xxiv. 20.) relates, that the diviner Ba¬
laam, observing at a distance the land of Amalek, said
m his prophetic style, “ Amalek is the first, the head,
the original of the nations ; but his latter end shall be,
that he perish for ever.” Our commentator observes,
that this epithet of the first of nations cannot certainly
agree with the Amalekites descended from the son of
Eliphaz, because the generation then living was but
the third from Amalek. Besides, Moses never re¬
proaches the Amalekites with attacking their brethren
the Israelites ; an aggravating circumstance, which he
would not have omitted were the Amalekites descended
from Esau ; in which case they had been the brethren
of the Israelites. Lastly, We see the Amalekites almost
always joined in the Scripture with the Canaanites and
Philistines, and never with the Edomites ; and when
Saul made war upon the Amalekites, and almost utterly
destroyed them, we do not find that the Edomites made
the least motion towards their assistance, nor to revenge
them afterwards. Thence it is thought probable, that
the Amalekites, who are so often mentioned in Scrip¬
ture, were a free people descended from Canaan, and
devoted to the curse as well as the other Amorites, and
very different from the descendants of Amalek, the
grandson of Esau.
The accounts which the Arabians give us of the
Amalekites destroyed by Saul are as follow : Amalek
was the father of an ancient tribe in Arabia, extermi¬
nated in the reign of Saul. This tribe contained only
the Arabians who are called Pure ; the remains where¬
of were mingled with the posterity of Joktan and Ad-
nan, and so became Mosarabes or Mostaarabes j that is
to say, Arabians blended with foreign nations. They
further believe, that Goliath, who was overcome by
David, w?as king of the Amalekites ; and that the gi¬
ants who inhabited Palestine in Joshua’s time were of
the same race. That at last part of the Amalekites re¬
tired into Africa while Joshua was yet living, and set¬
tled upon the coasts of Barbary, along the Mediterra¬
nean sea. The son of Amalek was Ad, a celebrated
prince among the Arabians. Some make him the son
of Uz, and grandson of Aram the son of Shem. Let
this be as it will, the Mahometans say that Ad was the
father of an Arabian tribe called Adites ; who wrere ex¬
terminated, as they tell us, for not hearkening to the
patriarch Eber, who preached the unity of God to
them. Ad had two sons, Schedad and Schedid.
AMALFI, an ancient city of Italy, situated in E.
Long. 14. 20. N. Lat. 40. 35. It is said to have de¬
rived its origin from a number of Roman families, who,
about the middle of the fourth century, either from
private views of emolument, or in consequence of com¬
pulsory orders from the emperor, had left Rome, and
embarked for Constantinople; but meeting with storms
on their passage, were cast away on the shores of Sa¬
lerno, and deprived of the means of pursuing their
voyage. In this state of perplexity they long remain¬
ed ; but at last came to the resolution of settling on the
present site of Amalfi, where they expected to enjoy
security, and sufficient plenty of the necessaries of life.
The earliest notice of them in this settlement dates no
higher than the latter end of the sixth century. Ln-
5 D 2’“ pervious
Amalck,
AmalS.
A M A [ 764 ] A M A
Amalil. pervious mountains and inaccessible coasts preserved
—v  their infant state from the first fury of the Lombards,
who seldom attempted the conquest of a maritime
people.
In the year 825, when this little republic had, under
the patronage of the eastern emperors, attained a degree
of wealth and reputation sufficient to excite the ambi¬
tion of its neighbours, Sico, prince of Salerno, marched
a body of troops by night, surprised Amalfi, and, car¬
rying off the greatest part of the inhabitants, compelled
them to fix at Salerno, which had lately suffered a great
loss of people by an epidemical disorder. But before
the fourth year of their captivity was expired, the A-
malfitans took advantage of the absence of the Salerni¬
tan chiefs, who were then carrying on a war with the
Beneventans •, armed themselves j and, after burning
and plundering Salerno, marched in triumph back to
their own country.
Here they framed a better system of government,
and reformed many abuses in their former legislation j
adopting various measures that were likely to promote
internal concord, and defeat the evil intentions of fo¬
reign enemies. Their first plan was to vest the supreme
authority in a temporai’y prefect; but the experience of
a few years caused them to prefer lodging that power
in the hands of a duke elected for the term of his natu¬
ral life. Under these governors Amalfi attained the
summit of her military and commercial glory. It ex¬
tended its territory, which reached eastward from Vico
Vecchio, and westward to the promontory of Minerva,
including likewise the island of Caprea, and the two
islands of the Galli. Towards the north, it compre¬
hended the cities of Lettere, Gragnans, Pimontio, and
Capule di Franchi; towards the south, those of Scala,
Bavelli, Minori, Majuri, Atrani, Tramonti, Agenda,
Citara, Prajano, and liosilano.
Leo IV. found the Amalfitans an useful ally in his
wars with the Infidels, and honoured the common¬
wealth with the title of Defender of the Faith. The
Neapolitans, with whom, as Greek vassals, they were
united in strict bonds of friendship, experienced many
signal favours at their bands $ and the Mussulmans
themselves found it expedient to court their alliance,
and to enter into treaty with them. Their situation
had from the beginning given them a turn to commerce,
and their attention to naval affairs so much consequence
in the eyes of their protector, the emperor of Constan¬
tinople, that by his orders a court was established at
Amalfi, for the decision of all controversies arising in
maritime transactions. Its code and reports became the
general rule in those cases throughout this part of Eu¬
rope j its precedents and decrees were allowed to be
good authority to found judgment upon even in foreign
tribunals. To crown the mercantile and naval glory
of the republic, it was reserved to the lot of an Amal-
fitan to make, or at least to perfect, the most import¬
ant discovery ever made for the improvement of navi¬
gation. Pasitano, a village which stands on the shore
a few miles west of Amalfi, boasts of having given birth
to Flavius Gioia, the inventor of the mariner’s com¬
pass.
The merchants of this town engrossed the trade of
the Levant, and transacted the commercial business of
the world in a lucrative and exclusive manner. The
Pisans, Venetians, and Genoese, rose upon their ruin $
and, after monopolizing the emoluments of trade for Amalfi
some ages, made way for the more comprehensive and ||
daring spirit of the present maritime powers. Amaltliam.
At present Amalfi is subject to Naples, and is the
see of an archbishop. It is but a shadow of what it
was in its flourishing state, when it extended over the
stupendous rocks that hang on each side, still crowned
with battlemented walls and ruined towers. Its build¬
ings, Mr Swinburne says, are not remarkable for ele¬
gance or size j and contain at most 4000 inhabitants,
who seem to be in a poor line of life. The cathedral
is an uncouth building. Under the choir is the cha¬
pel and tomb of the apostle St Andrew j to whose
honour the edifice was dedicated, when Cardinal
Capuano, in 1208, brought his body from Constanti¬
nople.
AMALGAM, mercury united With some metal.
AMALGAMATION, the operation of making an
amalgam, or mixing mercury with any metal.
For the combination of one metal with another, it
is generally sufficient that one of them be in a state of
fluidity. Mercury being always fluid, is therefore ca¬
pable of amalgamation with other metals without heat j
nevertheless, heat considerably facilitates the opera¬
tion.
To amalgamate without heat requires nothing more
than rubbing the two metals together in a mortar 5
but the metal to be united with the mercury should be
previously divided into very thin plates or grains.
When heat is used (which is always most effectual, and
with some metals indispensably necessary), the mer¬
cury should be heated till it begins to smoke, and the
grains of metal made red hot before they are thrown
into it. If it be gold or silver, it is sufficient to stir the
fluid with an iron rod for a little while, and then throw
it into a vessel filled with water. This amalgam is used
for gilding or silvering on copper, which is afterwards
exposed to a degree of heat sufficient to evaporate the
mercury.
Amalgamation with lead or tin is effected by pouring,
an equal weight of mercury into either of these metals
in a state of fusion, and stirring with an iron rod.
Copper amalgamates with great difficulty, and iron
not at all.
AMALTH.ZEA, the name of the Cumsean Sibyl,
who offered to Tarquinius Superbus nine books, con¬
taining the Roman destinies, and demanded 300 pieces
of gold for them. He derided her ; whereupon she
threw three of them into the fire ; and returning, asked
the same price for the other six j which being denied,
she burnt three more j and returned, still demanding
the same price. Upon which Tarqnin consulting the
pontiffs, was advised to buy them. These books were
in such esteem, that two magistrates were created to
consult them upon extraordinary occasions.
Amalthasa, in Pagan Mythology, the daughter of
Melissus, king of Ci’ete, and the nurse of Jupiter, whom
she fed with goats milk and honey. According to
others, Amalthaea was a goat, which Jupiter translated
into the sky, with her two kids, and gave one of her
horns to the daughters of Melissus, as a reward for the
pains they had taken in attending him. This horn had
the peculiar property of furnishing them with whatever
they wished for j and was thence called the cornucopia,
or horn of plenty.
AMALTHiEUS,
A M A
Amand,
AmaUhseus AMALTHiEUS, Jerome, John Baptista, and
Corneille, three celebrated Latin poets of Italy, who
flourished in the 16th century. Their compositions were
printed at Amsterdam in 1685. One of the prettiest
pieces in that collection is an epigram on two children,
whose beauty was very extraordinary, though each of
them was deprived of an eye :
Lumtne Aeon dextro, capta est Leonilla sinistro:
Et poterat forma vincere uterque Deos.
Parve puer, lumen quod habes concede sorori;
Sic tu ccecus Amor, sic erit ilia Venus.
AMAMA, Sixtinus, professor of the Hebrew
tongue in the university of Franeker, a man of great
learning, was born in Friesland, and had studied under
Drusius. Fie published a criticism upon the translation
of the Pentateuch j collated the Dutch translation of
the Bible with the original and the most accurate trans¬
lations 5 and wrote a censure of the Vulgate translation
of the historical books of the Old Testament, Job, the
Psalms, and Canticles. It is impossible to answer the
reasons whereby he shows the necessity of consulting
the originals. This he recommended so earnestly,
that some synods, being influenced by his reasons, de¬
creed, that none should be admitted into the mini¬
stry but such as had a competent knowledge of the He¬
brew and Greek text of the Scriptures. Fie died in
1629.
AMANCE, a town in the department of Upper
Soane, upon a rivulet of the same name. E. Long. 6.
10. N. Lat. 47. 48.
AMAND, Mark Antony Gerard, Sieur de
St, a French poet, was born at Rouen in Normandy,
in 1594. In the epistle dedicatory to the third part of
his works, he tells us, that his father commanded a
squadron of ships in the service of Elizabeth queen of
England for 22 years, and that he was for three years
prisoner in the Black Tower at Constantinople. He
mentions also that two brothers of his had been killed
in an engagement against the Turks. His own life
was spent in a continual succession of travels, which
was of no advantage to his fortune. There are miscel¬
laneous poems of this author, the greatest part of which
are of the comic or burlesque, and the amorous kind.
Though there are many blemishes in his poems, yet he
had the talent of reading them in so agreeable a man¬
ner, that everyone was charmed with them. In 1690,
he published Stances sur la grossesse de la reine de Po-
logne et de Suede. There are six stanzas of nine verses
each. In 1653, ^ie printed his Moise sauve, idyle he-
roique. This poem had at first many admirers ; M.
Chapelein called it a speaking picture ; but it has since
fallen into contempt. Amand wrote also a very de¬
vout piece, entitled, Stances a M. Corneille, sur son
Imitatioji de Jesus Christ, which was printed at Paris in
1656. M. Brossette says, that he wrote also a poem
upon the moon, wherein he paid a compliment to
F^ewis XIV. upon his skill in swimming, in which he
used often to exercise himself when he was young, in
the river Seine 5 but the king could not bear this poem
to be read to him, which is said to have affected the
author to such a degree, that he did not survive it long.
He died in 1661, being 67 years of age. He was ad¬
mitted a member of the French academy, when it was
first founded by Cardinal Richelieu, in the year 1633 j
2
[ 7^5 ]
A M A
and Mr Pelisson informs us, that in 1637, at his own Amand
desire, he was excused from the obligation of making a |[
speech in his turn, on condition that he would compile Ainarahte.
the comic part 0! the dictionary which the academy had v—
undertaken, and collect the burlesque terms. This was
a task well suited to him ; for it appears by his writ¬
ings, that he was extremely conversant in these terms,
ol which he seems to have made a complete collection
from the markets, and other places where the lower
people resort.
Amand, Saint, a city of France, in the department
of Cher, formerly Bourbonois, on the confines of Ber¬
ry, seated on the river Cher. It was built in 1410,
on the ruins of Orval. E. Long. 2. 30. N.'Lat.
46. 40.
Amand, Saint, a city of France, in the department
of the North, seated on the river Scarpe. It contained
by the last enumeration 8039 inhabitants. The abbot
of the place is the temporal lord, and disposes of the
magistracy. It was given to France by the treaty of
Utrecht. E. Long. 2. 25. N. Lat. 50. 27.
AMANICyE pylte (Ptolemy) j Amanides Py-
la: (Strabo) , Amani Portte (Pliny) ; straits or
defiles in Mount Amanus, through which Darius en¬
tered Cilicia y at a greater distance from the sea than
the Pylae Ciliciae or Syrise, through v/hich Alexander
passed.
AMANTEA, a sea-port town and bishop’s see of
the kingdom of Naples, situated near the bay of Eu-
phemia, in the province of Calabria, in E. Long. 16.
20. N. Lat. 39. 15.
AMANUS, a mountain of Syria, separating it from
Cilicia $ a branch of Mount Taurus (Cicero, Strabo,
Pliny) j extending chiefly eastward, from the sea of Ci¬
licia to the Euphrates : Now called Monte Negro, or
rather Montagna Neres, by the inhabitants 5 that is,
the watery mountain, as abounding in springs and ri¬
vulets.
AMAPALLA, a city and port town of North
America, in the province of Guatimala, seated on the
gulf of the same name, in the Pacific ocean. W.
Long. 87. 55. N. Lat. 13. 12.
AMARANTE, an order of knighthood, instituted
in Sweden by Queen Christina, in 1653, at ^ie close
of an annual feast, celebrated in that country, called
Wirtschaft. This feast was solemnized with entertain¬
ments, balls, masquerades, and the like diversions, and
continued from evening till the next morning.—That
princess, thinking the name too vulgar, changed it into
that of the feast of the gods, in regard each person here
represented some deity as it fell to his lot. The queen
assumed the name of Amarante ; that is, unfading, or
immortal. The young nobility, dressed in the habit of
nymphs and shepherds, served the gods at the table.
At the end of the feast, the queen threw off her habit,
which was covered with diamonds, leaving it to be
pulled in pieces by the masques; and in memory of so
gallant a feast, founded a military order, called in Swe¬
dish Geschilschafft, into which all that had been present
at the feast were admitted, including 16 lords and as
many ladies, besides the queen. Their device was the
cypher of Amarante, composed of two A’s, the one
erect, the other inverted, and interwoven together j the
whole enclosed by a laurel crown, with this motto,
Dolce nella memoria.
Bulstrode
A M A [ 766 ] A M A
Amaraate Bulstrode Whitlock, the English ambassador from
II Cromwell to the court of Sweden, was made a knight
Amanis. 0f ti.je order of Amarante : on which account it seems
“ v-™*”' t0 })e? tjiat we sometimes find him stiled Sir Bulstrode
hit lock.
AMARANTHOIDES, in Botany, the trivial name
of a species of illecebrum. See Illecebrum, Botany
Index.
AMARANTHUS (of« privative, and pu^xivu, to
wither, because the flower of this plant, when cropped,
does not soon wither), Amaranth, or flower gen¬
tle. See Botany Index.
AMARGURA, an island in the Southern Pacific
ocean, discovered by Maurell in 1781. It is quite bar¬
ren, and inaccessible even to boats. S. Lat. 17. 57.
W. Long.
AMARYLLIS, Lily-asphodel. See Botany
Index.
AMARYNTHUS, in Ancient Geography, a hamlet
of Eretrias, in the island of Eubosa, about seven stadia
distant from its walls. Here Diana was worshipped in
an annual solemnity, at which those of Carystus assist¬
ed *, hence the title of the goddess was Amurynthis and
Amarysia.
AMASIA, in Ancient Geography, now Marpurg, a
city in the landgravate of Hesse, on the Lahn. Ac¬
cording to others, it Is Embden in Westphalia.
Amasia, an ancient town of Turkey, in Natolia,
remarkable for the birth of Strabo the geographer.
It is the residence of a bashaw, and gives its name to
the province it stands in, where there are the best wines
and the best fruits in Natolia. It is seated near the ri¬
ver Iris or Casalmack *, and was anciently the residence
of the king of Cappadocia. E. Long. 36. 10. N. Lat.
39- 33-
Amasia, the name of the northern division of Lesser
Asia, lying on the south shore of the Euxine sea in Na¬
tolia. It takes its name from Amasia the capital, men¬
tioned in the preceding article.
AMASIS, king of Egypt, ascended the throne
B. C. 569, and commenced his reign with the death of
his former master Apries. King Apries having sent an
army to the assistance of the Libyans, which was to¬
tally routed, and great multitudes put to death, the
common people conceived the idea, that the tyrannical
prince had sent them to the field of battle, for no
other purpose but to destroy great numbers of them,
that so he might reign over the remainder with un¬
controlled oppression. The consequence was, that a
general insurrection arose, and all the multitude were
in an uproar. Informed of this tumult, Apries, sent
Amasis, whom he deemed one of his most faithful ad¬
herents ; but instead of endeavouring to reconcile the
disaffected people to their prince, he secured them to
his own interest; and while he was pretending to re¬
proach their disloyalty, and endeavouring to recal
them to duty, a soldier stepped in behind him, and pla¬
cing a helmet upon his head, saluted him king of E-
gypt. Amasis instantly took the field against his royal
master, and prepared to drive him from his throne.
Apprised of the treachery of Amasis, he sent another
in whom he confided, to bring Amasis before him,
to give an account of his conduct. This messenger
met him on horseback, and having delivered his mes¬
sage, Amasis, after some insolent behaviour, replied,
3
that he was preparing to visit the king, but thought it Amasis
proper to bring a suitable equipage to attend him.1—-y—.
When the messenger hastened back to inform his ma¬
ster, that he might consult for himself, his only reward
was to have his ears and nose cut off, by the order of the
tyrant, because he brought not Amasis along with him.
In this, as in numerous other instances, tyranny pro¬
cured its own destruction $ for the rest of the nobles
who still remained obedient to the king, seeing the bar¬
barous manner in which he had treated the messen¬
ger, they all went over to the standard of the usur¬
per. Now all the nation was in commotion. The
usurper on the one hand, with the whole body of the
natives marshalled under his banner, and the tyrant on
the other hand, with a body of foreigners and merce¬
naries, which he had engaged in his service. The two
armies met in a field in the vicinity of Memphis, and
the tyrant was made captive and his forces defeated.
The usurper treated the captive tyrant with great le¬
nity and respect, and assigned him the palace of Sais
for his confinement. But the hatred of the people was
too violent towards their old king, to permit him to
live ; Amasis was therefore forced to deliver him*into
their hands, and they instantly put him to death by
strangling him.
The plebeian extraction of Amasis deprived him for
some time of that respect, to which he was entitled as
a prince 5 but observing this, he contrived a stratagem
to induce them to pay him suitable honour. He order¬
ed a golden cistern, in which his visitants were accus¬
tomed to wash their feet, to be melted and cast in the
form of a god, and set it up in the most frequented
part of the city, and all the inhabitants did it homage.
He then called an assemblage of the people, and remind¬
ed them, that the gold they now venerated in the form
of a god, was once a cistern, and consequently that al¬
though he was formerly a person of low rank, yet now
that he was their king, they ought to give him the re¬
spect and homage due to his station.
Having by this means provided for the gratification
of his vanity, he began to exert himself to act for the
general good of his people. It was his constant prac¬
tice to attend to business in the mornings, and in the
evenings he indulged in amusement and pleasure j but
in these he sometimes tarnished the dignity of a king.
Indeed Amasis loved his wine and his companion so
much, previous to his elevation, that it is reported that
he lived by theft, and when denying upon detection,
he was carried to the oracle of the place, who some¬
times condemned and sometimes acquitted him. Re¬
collecting the conduct of the oracles after he ascend¬
ed the throne, he conceived a disrespect for them, be¬
cause they were not able at all times to detect his rob¬
beries.
To prevent the evil consequences of an indolent po¬
pulace, he enacted a law, that every person, under the
penalty of a capital punishment, should appear before
the governor of his respective province, and declare by
what occupation he acquired his subsistence. Ihus,
under the prudent government of Amasis, Egypt en¬
joyed, for many years, great fertility and extensive po¬
pulation. He also employed his industry in the erec¬
tion of several public works j among which were a
portico to the temple of Minerva at Sais, and the re¬
moval of a house, all of one stone, to the temple. He
A M A
Atnasis
Anuitoiii.
also built the great temple of Isis at Memphis. He
likewise erected a colossus before the temple of Vulcan,
75 *n length, resting on its back, and on the basis
' he erected two statues, each 20 feet high, cut out of
the same stone. Besides these he raised several monu¬
ments in Greece.
The liberality and respect for science which Amasis
displayed, and the encouragement he gave to learned
strangers, particularly to the Greeks, to visit his coun¬
try, manifested an enlightened mind. And to encou¬
rage Grecian strangers to remain in Egypt, he marked
out settlements for them on the sea coast, permitted
them to build temples, and to observe all the rites of
their religion unmolested. Solon, the celebrated law¬
giver, condescended to visit Amasis. In a short time,
the fame of Amasis for his generosity and humanity
was so extensive, that when the Delphians were going
about from city to city, collecting sums to enable them
to rebuild their consumed temple, they applied to Ama¬
sis, who gave them 1000 talents. Either to gratify
the vanity, or secure the alliance of the Greeks, he
married a Grecian lady, named Laodice, the daughter
of Battus. But in the evening of his reign, his pro¬
sperity was greatly clouded, by the report of the vast
preparations that Cambyses was making to invade
fcgyp1*. Phanes, who was captain of the Greek auxi¬
liaries in the service of Amasis, being offended at his
master, deserted his cause, and went over to Camhyses.
A strong affection had long subsisted betwixt Poly¬
crates, the tyrant of Samos, and Amasis ; yet he, de¬
serting his cause, became his enemy. Whether the fore¬
bodings of the impending storm tended to impair his
health or not is not related ; but about this time he died,
525 P* C. after a reign of 44 years. It is reported
that after interment, his body was dug up by his ene¬
mies, and consumed by fire, which, according to the
superstition of the Egyptians, constituted a singular
calamity. (Anc. Univ. Hist.).
AMASONIA. See Botant Index.
AMATHUS, a very ancient town in the south of
Cyprus (Strabo, Ptolemy) : so called from Amathus
the founder ; or, according to others, from Amath, a
Phoenician town sacred to ^ enus, with a very ancient
temple of Adonis and Venus: and hence Venus is de¬
nominated Amathusia (Tacitus). According to Ovid,
it was a place rich in copper ore, and where the in¬
habitants became Cerasttv, or horned. Now called Li-
misso.
Amathus, in Ancient Geography, a town of the tribe
of Gad, beyond Jordan ; but whether at a greater or
less distance from it, is not so easy to determine. Euse¬
bius places it in the lower Percea *, Beland, in Ramotli
Gilead. Gahinius, proconsul of Syria, established five
juridical conventions in Judea 5 two of which were on
the other side J ordan) one at Gadara, the other at Ama¬
thus (Josephus).
AMATIQUES, a sea-port town, in the province
of ^ era Paz in Mexico, at the mouth of the river Gua-
nacos, which flows into the gulf of Honduras. The in¬
habitants are chiefly employed in cutting logwood. N.
Lat. 15. 23. W. Long. 89. o.
AMATORII musculi, in Anatomy, a term some¬
times used for the obliquus superior and obliquus infe¬
rior muscles of the eye, as these muscles assist in oggling
or drawing the eye sidewise.
[ 767 ]
A M A
AMA1RICE, a city of the kingdom of Naples, in Amatrice
the farther Abruzzo, upon the coniines of the pope’s
territories, and the marquisate of Ancona. Amaziah.
AM AIJ A I oa, an island in the Southern Pacific
ocean, which was discovered by Captain Cook in 1774.
It is about five leagues in circumference, and consider¬
ably elevated ; it is inhabited, but not very fertile; and
i t lies about twelve leagues distant, and north north-west,
from Anamooka.
AMAUROSIS, in Medicine, a deprivation of sight,
the eye remaining fair and seemingly unaffected. A
perfect amaurosis is when the blindness is total ; when
there is still a power of distinguishing light from dark¬
ness, the disease is called by M. de St Ives an imperfect
amaurosis. Lhere is a periodical sort, winch comes on
instantaneously, continues for hours, or days, and then
disappears.
AMAZIAH, one of the kings of Judah, ascended
the throne of his father Joash in the 25th year of his
age. His mother’s name was Jehoaddan, a native of
Jerusalem. In consequence of his wavering virtue,
and his mingling foreign idolatry with the worship of
the true God, he is said, according to Scripture, to
have done that which was right in the sight of the
Lord, but “ not with a perfect heart.” His father
had been ungenerously murdered by his own servants,
therefore his son, on his elevation to the throne, put to
death the murderers of his father. In this act of re¬
munerative justice, however, he showed a becoming re¬
spect to the law of Moses, which prohibited the punish¬
ing of the children for the crimes of their guilty fa¬
thers. He gave early proofs of his military talents,
by making a general muster of all his subjects able to
bear arms ; and likewise hired a numerous army from
the neighbouring kingdom of Israel ; and with this in¬
creased multitude he hastened to attack Edom. The
two kindred armies met together in the valley of Salt,
and, after an obstinate engagement, the Edomites were
put to flight ; and Amaziah from thence proceeded to
take the town of Selah. But the spirit of jealousy
arose between the two armies, so that Amaziah thought
it prudent not to make use of the arms of the Israeli-
tish auxiliaries, consequently issued an order for their
returning home ; but this treatment roused the martial
spirit and indignant temper of the Israelites to such a
height, that, on their return, they turned their arms
against the cities of Judah, and ravaged and destroyed
them. The imperfection of the heart of Amaziah was
fully displayed on this occasion ; for he is related to
have brought home the gods of the children of Seir,
who were unable to protect their own votaries, and in
the folly of his heart to have paid them divine honours.
Flushed with the success of his arms in the valley
of Salt, he sent a hostile challenge to Jehoash king
of Israel, expressed in the phraseology of those times,
that they should “ look one another in the face.
Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit
before a fall.” In vain the prudent and peaceful spi¬
rit of Jehoash endeavoured to persuade him from his
bold attempt. They saw one another in the face at
Bethsbemesh, and Amaziah was made prisoner, and the
men of Judah put to flight. Jehoash advanced to the
qapital, carrying the vanquished king along with him ;
and he entered the city by breaking a large portion of
the wall; and, after plundering the temple and the
king’s
A M A [ 763 ] A M A
•Atnaziah, king’s palace, he returned home in triumph to Sama-
Ainazpnia. ria. This misfortune seems to have damped the mili-
v tary ardour of Amaziah •, for, although he swayed the
sceptre over Judah for many years alter, yet he never
engaged in any hostile contentions with his neighbours.
Whether, through the oppressive conduct of Amaziah,
or whatever cause, it is certain that a conspiracy was
formed against him in Jerusalem, which compelled him
to fly to the city of Lachish for shelter j but the con¬
federacy was so strong and numerous, that his enemies
pursued him thither j and there he fell by their hands,
in the 29th year of his reign. (2 Kings xiv. 2 Chron.
xxv.).‘
AMAZONIA, or the country of the American
Amazons, is situated between 50 and 70 degrees of
west longitude •, and between 4 degrees of north, and
15 degrees of south latitude ; being bounded on the
'south by La Plata, on the west by Peru, on the north
by the province of Terra Firma, and on the east by
Brazil.
With respect to the Amazons said to have given
name to this territory, they have been represented as
• governed and led to war only by their queen. No men
were suffered to live among them though those of
some neighbouring nations were suffered to visit them,
at a certain season, for the sake of procreation. The
females issuing from this commerce were bred up with
care, and instructed in what relates to war and govern¬
ment ; as to the males, they were sent a way into the
country of their fathers. But no such nation is at pre¬
sent to be found, any more than the giants and canni¬
bals mentioned by the first adventurers thither.
Amazonia is generally a flat region, abounding in
woods, lakes, rivers, bogs, and morasses. The chief
river, and one of the largest in the world, is that call¬
ed the river of Amazons, or the Orellana, which is
formed by two large rivers, the one rising in the pro¬
vince of Quito, a little south of the equator, in 73 de¬
crees of west longitude, and the other, named Xauxa,
rising in the lake of Bourbon, near the Andes, in 10
degrees of south latitude. These two rivers uniting
on the confines of Peru and Amazonia, in three de¬
grees odd minutes of south latitude, assume the name
of Amazon ; whence running eastward upwards of 2000
miles, and afterwards inclining to the north, they fall
into the Atlantic ocean by 84 channels, which in the
rainy season overflow the adjacent country. Besides
the two streams mentioned, a multitude of others, both
on the north and south side, contribute to the forma¬
tion of this extraordinary river. As it runs almost
across the broadest part of South America, it is com¬
puted to be between 4000 and 5000 miles in length,
including all its windings. Its channel from Junta de
los Reyos, to the river Maragnon, is from one to two
leagues broad 5 it then widens from three to four, and
becomes gradually broader as it approaches the ocean.
Between the places last mentioned, its depth is from
five to ten fathoms ; but from Maragnon to Rio Negro
' it increases to 20 fathoms j after which it is sometimes
30, and sometimes 50 fathoms, or more, till it comes
near the end of its course. Its course is very rapid,
and the numerous islands in its channel often change
their place during the floods. The manatu and tortoise
abound both upon the banks of this and the other rivers j
and the fishermen must be upon their guard against the
crocodiles, alligators, and water serpents, which also Amazonia
swarm here. Amazons.
The air, as in the countries under the same parallel, u*—v—-J
is observed to be nearly as cool under the equator as
about the tropics, on account of the rains continuing
longer, and the sky in that season being clouded ; but
the climate is moist and unhealthy. An easterly wind
sets from the Atlantic up the river so strong, that ves¬
sels are carried by it against the stream.
The produce of the country is Indian corn and the
cassava root, of which they make flour and bread } to¬
bacco, cotton, sugar, sarsaparilla, yams, potatoes, and
other roots. They have also plenty of venison, fish,
and fowl. Among the latter are vast flocks of parrots
of all colours, the flesh of which serves for food and
the feathers for ornament. All the trees here are ever¬
greens j and fruits, flowers, and herbage, are in per¬
fection all the year round. The principal fruits are
cocoa nuts, ananas or pine apples, guavas, bananas,
and such others as are usually found between the tro¬
pics. The forest and timber trees are cedar, Brazil
wood, oak, ebony, logwood, ironwood, so called from
its weight and hardness, and several sorts of dyeing
wood.
The natives are of the common stature, with good
features, a copper complexion, black eyes and hair.
It is computed that there are of them about 150 dif¬
ferent tribes or nations, and the villages are so nume¬
rous as to be within call of one another. Among those
the Homagues, a people near the head of the river,
are famous for their cotton manufactures ; the Jurines,
who live between five and ten degrees ot latitude, for
their joiners work j and the Wrosissares for their earth¬
en ware. The Topinambes, who inhabit a large island
in the river, are remarkable for their strength. Some
of those nations frequently make war upon each other.
Their armour consists of darts, javelins, bows and ar¬
rows j and they,wear targets of cane or fish-skin. They
make slaves of their prisoners, whom they otherwise use
very well. Every tribe is governed by its respective
chief or king, the marks of whose dignity are a crown
of parrots feathers, a chain of lions teeth or claws hung
round his neck, or girt about his waist, and a wooden
sword which he carries in his hand.
Most of those nations, except the Homagues, go na¬
ked. The women thrust pieces of cane through their
ears and under lips, as well as through the skin of the
pudenda. At the gristle of their noses they also hang-
glass beads, which wag to and fro when they speak.
They are such skilful marksmen, that they will shoot
fish as they swim ; and what they catch they eat with¬
out either bread or salt. They worship images, which
they always carry with them on their expeditions j but
they neither have temples nor any order of priests j and
permit both polygamy and concubinage.
The country affords neither gold nor silver mines $
only a small quantity of the former is found in the ri¬
vulets which fall into the Amazon near its sources in
Peru. When the Spaniards imagined that it contained
those metals, they made great efforts from Peru to re¬
duce this territory to subjection ; till being at length
undeceived, they abandoned the design.
AMAZONS, in antiquity, a nation of female'war¬
riors, who founded an empire in Asia Minor, upon the
river Thermodoon, along the coasts of the Black sea.
They
A M A
Amazo,ls-, They are said to have formed a state, out of which men
were excluded. What commerce they had with that
sex, was only with strangers; they killed all their male
children ; and they cut off the right breasts of their fe¬
males, to make them more fit for the combat. From
which last circumstance it is that they are supposed to
take their name, viz. from the privative <*, and pct&t,
mamma, “ breast.” But Dr Bryant, in his Analysis
of Ancient Mythology, explodes this account as fa¬
bulous j and observes that they were in general Cu-
thite colonies from Egypt and Syria, who formed set¬
tlements in different countries, and that they derived
their name from %on, “ the sun,” which was the na¬
tional object of worship, vol. iii. p. 463. It has indeed
been controverted, even among ancient writers, whe¬
ther there ever really was such a nation as that of the
Amazons. Strabo, Palaephatus, and others, deny it.
On the contrary, Herodotus, Pausanias, Diodorus Si¬
culus, Trogus Pompeius, Justin, Pliny, Mela, Plutarch,
&c. expressly assert it.
M. Petit, a French physician, published a Latin dis¬
sertation in 1685, to prove that there was really a na¬
tion ot Amazons. It contains abundance of curious in¬
quiries relating to their habit, their arms, the cities
built by them, 8tc. Others of the moderns also main¬
tain, that their existence is sufficiently proved by the
testimony of such of the historians of antiquity as are
most worthy of credit; by the monuments which many
of them have mentioned ; and by medals, some of
which are still remaining; and that there is not the
least room to believe that what is said of them is fabu¬
lous.
The Amazons are mentioned by the most ancient of
the Greek writers. In the third book of the Iliad,
Homer represents Priam speaking of himself as having
been present in the earlier part of his life, in a battle
with the Amazons j^and some of them afterwards came
to the assistance of that prince during the siege of
Troy.
The Amazons are particularly mentioned by Hero¬
dotus. That historian informs us that the Grecians
fought a battle with the Amazons on the river Ther-
modoon, and defeated them. After this victory, they
carried off all the Amazons they could take alive in
three ships. But whilst they were out at sea, these
Amazons conspired against the men, and killed them
all. Having, however, no knowledge of navigation,
nor any skill in the use of the rudder, sails, or oars,
they were driven by wind and tide till they arrived at
the precipices of the lake Maeotis, in the territories of
the Scythians. Here the Amazons went ashore, and,
marching into the country, seized and mounted the
first horses they met with, and began to plunder the in¬
habitants. The Scythians at first conceived them to be
men ; but after they had had skirmishes with them,
and taken some prisoners, they discovered them to be
women. They were then unwilling to carry on hosti¬
lities against them ; and by degrees a number of the
young Scythians formed connexions with them, and were
desirous that these gentle dames should live with them
as wives, and be incorporated with the x'est of the Scy¬
thians. The Amazons agreed to continue their con¬
nexion with their Scythian husbands, but refused to as¬
sociate with the rest of the inhabitants of the country,
and especially with the women of it. They afterwards
Vol. I. Part II. ’ +
t 769 ]
A M A
prevailed upon their husbands to retire to Sarmatia, Amaxons.
Avhere they settled. “ Hence,” says Herodotus, “ the -y——
wives of the Sarmatians still continue their ancient way
of living. They hunt on horseback in the company of
then husbands, and sometimes alone. They march
with their armies, and wear the same dress with the
men. The Sarmatians use the Scythian language, but
corrupted from the beginning, because the Amazons
never learned to speak correctly. Their marriages are
attended with this circumstance ; no virgin is permit¬
ted to marry till she has killed an enemy in the field ;
so that some always grow old before they can qualify
themselves as the law requires.”
Diodoi us Siculus says, “ There was formerly a na¬
tion who dwelt near the river Thermodoon, which was
subjected to the government of women, and in which
the women, like men, managed all the military affairs.
Among these female warriors, it was said, was one who
excelled the rest in strength and valour. She assembled
together an army of women, whom she trained up in
military discipline, and subdued some of the neighbour¬
ing nations. Afterwards, having by her valour in¬
creased her fame, she led her army against the rest;
and being successful, she was so pufled up, that she styl¬
ed herself the daughter of Mars, and ordered the men
to spin wool, and do the work of the women within
doors. She also made laws, by which the women were
enjoined to go to the wars, and the men to be kept at
home in a servile state, and employed in the meanest
offices. I hey also debilitated the arms and thighs of
those male children who were born of them, that they
might be thereby rendered unfit for war. They sear¬
ed the right breasts of their girls, that they might be
no interruption to them in fighting : whence they
derived the name of Amazons. Their queen, having
become extremely eminent for skill and knowledge in
military affairs, at length built a large city at the
mouth of the river Thermodoon, and adorned it with
a magnificent palace. In her enterprises she adhered
strictly to military discipline and good order; and she
added to her empire all the adjoining nations, even to
the river Tanais. Having performed these exploits,
she at last ended her days like a hero, falling in a bat¬
tle, in which she had fought courageously. She was
succeeded in the kingdom by her daughter, who imi¬
tated the valour of her mother, and in some exploits
excelled her. She caused the girls from their very in¬
fancy to be exercised in hunting, and to be daily train¬
ed up in military exercises. She instituted solemn fes¬
tivals and sacrifices to Mars and Diana, which were
named Tauropoli. She afterwards carried her arms
beyond the river Tanais, and subdued all the people of
those regions, even unto Thrace. Returning then with
a great quantity of spoils into her own kingdom, she
caused magnificent temples to be erected to the deities
before mentioned ; and she gained the love of her sub¬
jects by her mild and gentle government. She after¬
wards undertook an expedition against those who were
on the other side of the river, and subjected to her do¬
minion a great part of Asia, extending her arms as far
as Syria.”
Diodorus also mentions another race of Amazons
who dwelt in Africa; and whom he speaks of as being
of greater antiquity than those who lived near the
river Thermodoon. “ In the western parts of Libya,”
5 E - says
A M A [ 770 ] A M A
Amazons, says he, “ upon the borders of those tracts that are
' v——' habitable, there was anciently a nation under the go¬
vernment of women, and whose manners and mode of
■ living were altogether different from ours. It was the
custom of those women to manage all military affairs j
and for a certain time, during which they preserved
their virginity, they went out as soldiers into the field.
After some years employed in this manner, when the
time appointed for this purpose was expired, they asso¬
ciated themselves with men, in order to obtain children.
But the magistracy, and all public offices, they kept
entirely in their own hands. The men, as the women
are with us, were employed in household afiairs, sub¬
mitting themselves wholly to the authority of their
wives. They were not permitted to take any part in
military affairs, or to have any command, or any pu¬
blic authority, which might have any tendency to en¬
courage them to cast off the yoke of their wives. As
soon as any child was born, it was delivered to the fa¬
ther, to be fed with milk, or such other food as was
suitable to its age. If females were born, they seared
their breasts, that they might not be burdensome to
them when they grew up; for they considered them as
great hinderances in fighting.
Justin represents the Amazonian republic to have
taken its rise in Scythia. The Scythians had a great
part of Asia under their dominion upwards of 400
years, till they were conquered by Ninus, the founder
of the Assyrian empire. After his death, which hap¬
pened about 1150 years before the Christian era, and
that of Semiramisand their son Ninyas, llinus and Sco-
lopites, princes of the royal blood of Scythia, were dri¬
ven from their country by other princes, who like them
aspired to the crown. They departed with their wives,
children, and friends 5 and being followed by a great
number of young people of both sexes, they passed into
Asiatic Sarmatia, beyond Mount Camassus, where they
formed an establishment, supplying themselves with the
riches they wanted, by making incursions into the coun¬
tries bordering on the Euxine sea. The people of
those countries, exasperated by the incursions of their
new neighbours, united, surprised, and massacred the
men.
The women then resolving to revenge their death,
and at the same time to provide for their own security,
resolved to form a new kind of government, to choose
a queen, enact laws, and maintain themselves, without
men, even against the men themselves. This design
was not so very surprising as at first sight appears: for
the greatest number of the girls among the Scythians
nad been inured to the same exercises as the boys; to
draw tbe bow, to throw the javelin, to manage other
arms ^ to riding, hunting, and even the painful labours
that seem reserved for nien j and many of them, a-
mong the Sarmatians, accompanied the men in war.
Hence they had no sooner formed their resolution, than
they prepared to execute it, and exercised themselves
in all military operations. They soon secured the peace¬
able possession of the country j and not content with
showing their neighbours that all their efforts to drive
them thence or subdue them were ineffectual, they
made war upon them, and extended their own frontiers.
They had hitherto made use of the instructions and as¬
sistance of a few men that remained in the country 5 but
finding at length that they could stand their ground
and aggrandize themselves, without them, they killed Amazons
all those whom flight or chance had saved from tbe fury
of tbe Sarmatians, and for ever renounced marriage,
which they now considered as an insupportable slavery.
But as they could only secure the duration of their new
kingdom by propagation, they made a law to go every
year to the frontiers, to invite the men to come to them ;
to deliver themselves up to their embraces, without
choice on their part, or tbe least attachment j and to
leave them as soon as they were pregnant. All those
whom age rendered fit for propagation, and were wil¬
ing to serve tbe state by breeding girls, did not go at
the same time in search of men : for in order to obtain
a right to promote the multiplication of tbe species,
they must first have contributed to its destruction ; nor
was any thought worthy of giving birth to children till
she had killed three men.
If from this commerce they brought forth girls, they
educated them ; but with respect to the boys, if we
may believe Justin, they strangled them at the moment
of their birth : according to Diodorus Siculus, they
twisted their legs and arms, so as to render them unfit
for military exercises j but Quintus Curtius, Philostra-
tus, and Jordarus, say, that the less savage sent them
to their fathers. It is probable, that at first, when
their fury against the men was carried to the great¬
est height, they killed the boys ; that when this fury
abated, and most of the mothers were filled with hor¬
ror at depriving the little creatures of the lives they
had just received from them, they fulfilled the first du¬
ties of a mother j but to prevent their causing a revo¬
lution in the state, maimed them in such a manner as
to render them incapable of war, and employed them
in the mean offices which these warlike women thought
beneath them. In short, that when their conquests
had confirmed their power, their ferocity subsiding,
they entered into political engagements with their
neighbours ; and the number of the males they had
preserved becoming burdensome, they, at the desire of
those who rendered them pregnant, sent them the hoys,
and continued still to keep the girls.
As soon as the age of the girls permitted, they took
away the right breast, that they might draw the bow
with the greater force. The common opinion is, that
they burnt that breast, by applying to it, at eight
years of age, a hot brazen instrument, which insensibly
dried up the fibres and glands : some think that they
did not make use of so much ceremony, but that when
the part was formed, they got rid of it by amputation :
some again, with much greater probability, assert that
they employed no violent measures ; but, by a continual
compression of that part from infancy, prevented its
growth, at least so far as to hinder its ever being in¬
commodious in war.
Plutarch, treating of the Amazons in his life of The¬
seus, considers the accounts which had been preserved
concerning them as partly fabulous, and partly true.
He gives some account, of a battle which had been
fought between the Athenians and the Amazons at A-
thens j and he relates some particulars of this battle
which had been recorded by an ancient writer named
Clidemus. He says, “ That the left wing of the A-
mazons moved towards the place which is yet called
Amazonium, and the right to a place called Pryx, near
Chrysa 5 upon which the Athenians, issuing from be¬
hind
A M A [
. hind the temple of the Muses, fell upon them; and
that this is true, the graves of those that were slain, to
be seen in the streets that lead to the gate Piraica, by
the temple ot the hero Chalcodue, are a sufficient proof.
And here it was that the Athenians were routed, and
shamefully turned their backs to women, as far as to
the temple of the Furies. But fresh supplies coming
in from Palladium, Ardettus, and Lyceum, charged
their right wing, and beat them hack into their very
tents; in which action a great number of the Ama¬
zons were slain.” In another place he says, “ It ap¬
pears that the passage of the Amazons through Thes¬
saly was not without opposition ; for there are yet to
be seen many of their sepulchres near Scotussaea and
Cynocephalae.” And in his life of Pompey, speaking
of the Amazons, Plutarch says, “ They inhabit those
parts of Mount Caucasus that look towards the Hyr-
canian sea (not bordering upon the Albanians, for the
territories of the Getae and the Lesgae lie betwixt) :
and with these people do they yearly, for two months
only, accompany and cohabit, bed and board, near
the river Thermodoon. After that they retire to
their own habitations, and live alone all the rest of the
year.”
Quintus Curtius says, “ The nation of the Amazons
is situated upon the borders of Hyrcania, inhabiting the
plains of Thermiscyra, near the river Thermodoon.
Their queen was named Thalestris, and she had under
her subjection all the country that lies between Mount
Caucasus and the river Phasis. This queen came out
of her dominions, in consequence of an ardent desire
she had conceived to see Alexander; and being advan¬
ced near the place where he was, she previously sent
messengers to acquaint him, that the queen was come
to have the satisfaction of seeing and conversing with
him. Having obtained permission to visit him, she
advanced with 300 of her Amazons, leaving the rest of
her troops behind. As soon as she came within sight
of the king, she leaped from her horse, holding two
javelins in her right hand. The apparel of the Ama¬
zons does not cover all the body, for their left side is
naked down to the stomach ; nor do the skirts of their
garments, which they tie up in a knot, reach below
their knees. They preserve their left breast entire,
that they may be able to suckle their female offspring;
and they cut off and sear their right, that they may
draw their bows, and cast their darts, with the greater
ease. Thalestris looked at the king with an undaunted
countenance, and narrowly examined his person ; which
did not, according to her ideas, come up to the fame
ot his great exploits: For the barbarians have a great
veneration for a majestic person, esteeming those only
to be capable of performing great actions on whom
nature has conferred a dignified appearance. The king
having asked her whether she had any thing to desire
ot him, she replied, without scruple or hesitation, that
she was come with a view to have children by him, she
being worthy to bring him heirs to his dominions.
Their offspring, if of the female sex, she would retain
herself; and if of the male sex, it should be delivered
to Alexander. He then asked her, whether she would
accompany him in his wars ? But this she declined,
alleging, That she had left nobody to take care of her
kingdom. She continued to solicit Alexander, that
he would not send her back without conforming to
771 ] A M A
her wishes ; but it was not till after a delay of 13 days Amazons,
that he complied. She then returned to her own king- v—
dom.”
Justin also repeatedly mentions this visit of Thalestris
to Alexander; and in one place he says, that she made
a march of 25 days, in order to obtain this meeting with
him. The interview between Alexander and Thalestris
is likewise mentioned by Diodorus Siculus. The learn¬
ed Goropius, as he is quoted by Hr Petit, laments, in
very pathetic terms, the hard fate of Thalestris, who
was obliged to travel so many miles, and to encounter
many hardships, in order to procure this interview with
the Macedonian prince ; and, from the circumstances,
is led to consider the whole account as incredible. But
I)r Petit, with equal erudition, with equal eloquence,
and with superior force of reasoning, at length deter¬
mines, that her journey was not founded upon irrational
principles, and that full credit is due to those grave and
venerable historians by whom this transaction has been
recorded.
The Amazons are represented as being armed with
bows and arrows, with javelins, and also with an axe
of a particular construction, which was denominated
the axe of the Amazons. According to the elder
Pliny, this axe wTas invented by Penthesilea, one of
their queens. On many ancient medals are representa¬
tions of the Amazons, armed with these axes. They
are also said to have had bucklers in the shape of a half
moon.
The Amazons are mentioned by many other ancient
authors, besides those which have been enumerated ;
and if any credit be due to the accounts concerning
them, they subsisted through several ages. They are
represented as having rendered themselves extremely
formidable; as having founded cities, enlarged the
boundaries of their dominions, and conquered several
other nations.
That at any period there should have been women,
who, without the assistance of men, built cities and go¬
verned them, raised armies and commanded them, ad¬
ministered public affairs, and extended their dominion
by arms, is undoubtedly so contrary to all that we have
seen and known of human affairs, as to appear in a
very great degree incredible; but that women may
have existed sufficiently robust, and sufficiently coura¬
geous, to have engaged in warlike enterprises, and even
to have been successful in them, is certainly not impos¬
sible, however contrary to the usual course of things.
In support of this side of the question, it may be urged,
that women who have been early trained to warlike
exercises, to hunting, and to a hard and laborious mode
of living, may be rendered more strong, and capable of
more vigorous exertions, than mfcn who have led indo¬
lent, delicate, and luxurious lives, and who have sel¬
dom been exposed even to the inclemencies of the wea¬
ther. The limbs of women, as well as of men, are
strengthened and rendered more robust by frequent and
laborious exercise. A nation of women, therefore,
brought up and disciplined as the ancient Amazons are
represented to have been, would be superior to an equal
number of effeminate menj though they might be much
inferior to any equal number of hai*dy men, trained up
and disciplined in the same manner.
That much of what is said ol the Amazons is fabu¬
lous, there can be no reasonable doubt; but it does not.
3 E 2 7 therefore
A M A. [ 772 ] A M A
Amazons therefore follow, that the whole is without foundation.
—r—The ancient medals and monuments on which they are
represented are very numerous, as are also the testimo¬
nies of ancient writers. It seems not rational to suppose
that all this originated in fiction, though it be much
blended with it. The abbe Guyon speaks of the history
of the Amazons as having been regarded by many per¬
sons as fabulous, “ rather from prejudice than from any
real and solid examination 5” and it must be acknow¬
ledged, that the arguments in favour of their existence,
from ancient history, and from ancient monuments, are
extremely powerful. The fact seems to be, that truth
and fiction have been blended in the narrations concern¬
ing these ancient heroines.
Instances of heroism in women have occasionally oc¬
curred in modern times, somewhat resembling that of
the ancient Amazons. The times and the manners of
chivalry, in particular, by bringing great enterprises,
bold adventurers, and extravagant heroism, into fashion,
inspired the women with the same taste. The women,
in consequence of the prevailing passion, were now seen
in the middle of camps and of armies. They quitted
the soft and tender inclinations, and the delicate offices
of their own sex, for the toils and the toilsome occupa¬
tions of ours. During the crusades, animated by the
double enthusiasm of religion and of valour, they of¬
ten performed the most romantic exploits j obtained in-
dulgencies on the field of battle, and died with arms in
their hands, by the side of their lovers or of their hus¬
bands.
In Europe, the women attacked and defended for¬
tifications 5 princesses commanded their armies, and
obtained victories. Such was the celebrated Joan de
Montfort, disputing for her duchy of Bretagne, and
fighting herself. Such was that still more celebrated
Margaret of Anjou, that active and intrepid general
and soldier, whose genius supported a long time a feeble
husband ; which taught him to conquer j which re¬
placed him upon the throne ; which twice relieved him
from prison *, and, oppressed by fortune and by rebels,
which did not bend till after she had decided in person
twelve battles.
The warlike spirit among the women, consistent
with ages of barbarism, when every thing is impetuous
because nothing is fixed, and when all excess is the
excess of force, continued in Europe upwards of 400
years, showing itself from time to lime, and always in
the middle of convulsions, or on the eve of great revo¬
lutions. But there were eras and countries in which
that spirit appeared with particular lustre. Such were
the displays it made in the 15th and 16th centuries in
Hungary, and in the islands of the Archipelago and
the Mediterranean, when they were invaded by the
Turks.
Among the striking instances of Amazonian conduct
in modern ladies, may be mentioned that of Jane of
Belleville, widow of Mons. de Clisson, who was behead¬
ed at Paris, in the year 1343, °n a suspicion of carry¬
ing on a correspondence with England and the count
de Montfort. This lady, filled with grief for the
death of her late husband, and exasperated at the ill
treatment which she considered him as having received,
sent off “ her son secretly to London ; and when- her
apprehensions were removed with respect to him, she
sold her jewels, fitted out three ships, and put to sea, to
revenge the death of her husband upon all the French AmuzoBs.
with whom she should meet. This new corsair made 1 T-
several descents upon Normandy, where she stormed
castles ; and the inhabitants of that province were
spectators more than once, whilst their villages were
all in a blaze, of one of the finest women in Europe,
with a sword in one hand and a torch in the other,
urging the carnage, and eyeing with pleasure all the
horrors of war.”
We read in Mezeray (under the article of the Croi-
sade, preached by St Bernard in the year 1147), “That
many women did not content themselves with taking
the cross, but that they also took up arms to defend
it, and composed squadrons of females, which render¬
ed credible all that has been said of the prowess of the
Amazons.”
In the year 1590, the League party obtained some
troops from the king of Spain. Upon the news of their
being disembarked, Barri de St Aunez, Henry IV.’s
governor at Leucate, set out to communicate a scheme
to the duke de Montmorenci, commander in that
province. He was taken in his way by some of
the troops of the League, who were also upon their
march with the Spaniards towards Leucate. They
were persuaded, that by thus having the governor in
their hands, the gates of that place would be immedi¬
ately opened to them, or at least would not hold out
long. But Constantia de Cecelli, his wife, after hav¬
ing assembled the garrison, put herself so resolutely at
their head, pike in hand, that she inspired the weakest
with courage; and the besiegers were repulsed where-
ever they presented themselves. Shame, and their great
loss, having rendered them desperate, they sent a mes¬
senger to this courageous woman, acquainting her, that
if she continued to defend herself, they would hang her
husband. She replied, with tears in her eyes, “ I have
riches in abundance : I have ofl’ered them, and I di>
still offer them, for his ransom j but I would not igno-
miniously purchase a life which he would reproach me
with, and which he would be ashamed to enjoy. I
will not dishonour him by treason against my king and
country.” The besiegers having made a fresh attack
without success, put her husband to death, and raised
the siege. Henry IV. afterwards sent to this lady the
brevet of governess of Leucate, with the reversion for
her son.
The famous maid of Orleans, also, is an example
known to every reader.
The Abbe Arnaud, in his memoirs, speaks of a coun¬
tess of St Balmont, who used to take the field with her
husband, and fight by his side. She sent several Spanish-
prisoners of her taking to Marshal Feuquiers; and, what
was not a little extraordinary, this Amazon at home was-
all affability and sweetness, and gave herself up to read¬
ings and acts of piety.
Dr Johnson seems to have given some credit to the-
accounts which have been transmitted down to us con¬
cerning the ancient Amazons j and he has endeavour¬
ed to show, that we ought not hastily to reject ancient
historical narrations because they contain facts repug¬
nant to modern manners, and exhibit scenes to which
nothing now occurring bears a resemblance. “ Of
what we know not (says he) we can only judge by
what we know. Every novelty appears more wonder¬
ful, as it is more remote from any thing with which
experience
A MS
Anwi
A M A
Amazons, experience or testimony have hitherto acquainted us j
Amazonian, and, if it passes farther beyond the notions that we have
' v ' been accustomed to form, it becomes at last incredible.
We seldom consider that human knowledge is very
narrow 5 that national manners ax-e formed by chance $
that uncommon conjunctures of causes produce rare
effects j or, that what is impossible at one time or place
may yet happen in another. It is always easier to de¬
ny than to inquire. To refuse credit confers for a mo¬
ment an appearance of superiority which every little
mind is tempted to assume, when it may be gained so
C 773 ]
A M A
one of those he most delighted in. In honour either of
the gallant or his mistress, the month December was
also denominated Ama-zonius. Some also apply
noman habit to the hunting-dress wox-n by many ladies
among us.
. AMBA, an^ Abyssinian or Ethiopic word, signify-
xng a rock. The Abyssinians give names to each of
then* rocks, as A??iba-Dot'ho, the rock of a hen, &c^
Some of these rocks are said to have the name of Aor-
m ; and are of such a stupendous height, that the Alps-
and I yrenees are but low hills in compai’ison of them.
Amazonian
A mbar va-
lia.
,1 \ ^ ^   uul iuyv iims in comparison ot them.
cheaply as. by withdrawing attention kom evidence, Amongst the mountains, and even frequently in the
and declining the fatigue of comparing probabilities, plains, of this country, arise steep and craagy rocks of
Many relations of travellers have been slighted as fa- various forms, some resembling towers, others pyramids
hulous. ti 1 more rreouent vnvao-es have . .. . ' *
bulous, till more frequent voyages have confirmed their
veracity, and it may reasonably be imagined that many
ancient historians are unjustly suspected of falsehood,
because our own times afford nothing that resembles
what they tell. Few narratives will, either to men or
women, appear more incredible than the histories of the
Amazons ; of female nations, of whose constitution it
was the essential and fundamental law, to exclude men
from all participation, either of public affairs or domes¬
tic business; where female armies marched under fe¬
male captains, female farmers gathered the harvest, fe¬
male partners danced together, and female wits divert¬
ed one another. Yet several sages of antiquity have
transmitted accounts of the Amazons of Caucasus ; and
of the Amazons of America, who have given their
name to the greatest river in the world, Condamine
lately found such memorials as can be expected among
erratic and unlettered nations, where events are re¬
corded only by tradition, and new swarms settling in
the country from time to time confuse and efface all
traces of former times.”
No author has taken so much pains upon this subject
as Dr Petit. But, in the course of his work, he has
given it as his opinion, that there is great difficulty in
governing the women even at present, though they are
unarmed and unpractised in the art of war. After all
his elaborate inquiries and discussions, therefore, this
learned writer might probably think, that it is not an
evil of the first magnitude that the race of Amazons
now ceases to exist.
Rousseau says, “ The empire of the woman is an em¬
pire of softness, of address, of complacency. Her com¬
mands are caresses, her menaces are tears.” But the
empire of the Amazons was certainly an empire of a
very different kind. Upon the whole, we may conclude
with Dr Johnson: “ The character of the ancient A-
mazons was rather terrible than lovely. The hand could
not be very delicate that was only employed in drawing
the bow, and brandishing the battle-axe. Their power
was maintained by cruelty, their courage was deformed
by ferocity ; and their example only shows, that men
and women live best together.”
Amazons, the river of, in America. See Amazo¬
nia.
AmazonI4N Habit, in antiquity, denotes a dress
formed in imitation of the Amazons. Marcia the fa¬
mous concubine of the emperor Commodus, had the
appellation of Amazonian, because she charmed him
most in a habit of this kind. Hence also that prince
himself engaged in combat in the amphitheatre in an
Amazonian habit y and of all titles the Ama%onius was
p '  & —
<Yc. so perpendicular and smooth on the sides, that they
seem to be works of art; insomuch, that men, cattle,
&c. are craned up by the help of ladders and ropes:
and yet the tops of these rocks are covered with woods
meadows, fountains, fish-ponds, &c. which very co¬
piously supply the animals seated thereon with all tho
conveniences of life. The most remarkable of these
rocks is called A/nba-Geshen. It is prodigiously steep,,
in the form of a castle built of freestone, and almost
impregnable. Its summit is about half a Portuguese
league in breadth, and the circumference at the bottom
about half a day’s journey. The ascent at first is easy j
but grows afterwards so steep, that the Abassine oxen*
which will otherwise clamber like goats, must be cran¬
ed up, and let down with ropes. Here the princes of
the blood were formerly confined, in low cottages a-
mongst shrubs and wild cedars, with an allowance bare¬
ly sufficient to keep them alive. There is, according
to Kircher, in this country, a rock so curiously hollow¬
ed by nature, that at a distance it resembles a looking-
glass j and opposite to this another, on the top of which,
nothing can be so softly whispered but it may he heard
a great, way oft'. Between many of these rocks and
mountains are vast abysses, which appear very dreadful
to the eye.
AMBACHT, .is a word which denotes a kind of
jurisdiction or territory, the possessor whereof has the
administration of justice, both in alto and basso; or of
what is called, in the Scots law, a power of pit and gal¬
lows, i. e. a power of drowning and hanging. In some
ancient writers, ambacht is particularly used for the
jurisdiction, government, or chief magistracy of a city.
The word is very ancient, though used originally in*a
sense somewhat different. Ennius calls a mercenary,
or slave hired for money, ambactus; and Caesar gives
the same appellation to a kind of dependents amonsr the
Gauls, who,without being slaves, were attached to the
service of great lords.
AMBAGES. See Circumlocution.
AMBARY ALIA, in antiquity, a ceremony among:
the Romans, when, in order to procure from the gods
a happy harvest, they conducted the victims thrice
round the corn fields in procession, before saerificing-
\\\e,m.—Ambarvalia were either of a private or public
nature : the private were performed by the master of a
family, and the public by the priests who officiated at
the solemnity, called fratres arvales. The prayer pre¬
ferred on this occasion, the formula of which we have
in Cato de Re Rustica, cap. cxlii. was called carmen,
ambarvale. At these feasts they sacrificed to Ceres a
sow, a sheep, and a bull or heifer, whence they tooki
ths
A M B t 774- ] A M B
Ambarva- the name of suovetaurilia. The method of celebrating
lia them was, to lead a victim round the fields, while the
peasants accompanied it, and one of their number, crown-
, Ajll',cl- , e(J with oak, hymned forth the praises of Ceres, in verses
composed on purpose. This festival was celebrated twice
a-year; at the end of January, according to some, or in
April, according to others j and for the second time, in
the month of July.
AMBASSADOR, or Embassador, a public mini¬
ster sent from one sovereign prince, as a representative
of his person, to another.
Ambassadors are either ordinary or extraordinary.
Ambassador in ordinary, is he who constantly resides
in the court of another prince, to maintain a good un¬
derstanding, and look to the interest of his master. Till
about two hundred years ago, ambassadors in ordinary
were not heard of: all, till then, were ambassadors ex-
traordinary ; that is, such as are sent on some particular
occasion, and who retire as soon as the affair is despatch¬
ed.
By the law of nations, none under the quality of a
sovereign prince can send or receive an ambassador. At
Athens, ambassadors mounted the pulpit of the public
orators, and there opened their commission, acquainting
the people with their errand. At Rome, they were in¬
troduced to the senate, and delivered their commissions
to the fathers.
Ambassadors should never attend any public solem¬
nities, as marriages, funerals, &c. unless their masters
have some interest therein: nor must they go into
mourning on any occasions of their own, because they
represent the person of their prince. By the civil law,
the moveable goods of an ambassador, which are ac¬
counted an accession to his person, cannot be seized
on, neither as a pledge nor for payment of a debt,
nor by order or execution of judgment, nor by the
king’s or state’s leave where he resides, as some con¬
ceive : for all actions ought to be far from an ambassa¬
dor, as well that which toucheth his necessaries, as his
person : if therefore, he hath contracted any debt, he
is to be called upon kindly ; and if he refuses, then let¬
ters of request are to go to his master. Nor can any of
the ambassador’s domestic servants that are registered
in the secretary of state’s office be arrested in person or
goods; if they are, the process shall be void, and the
parties sueing out and executing it shall suffer and be
liable to such penalties and corporal punishment as the
lord chancellor or either of the chief justices shall think
fit to inflict. Yet ambassadors cannot be defended when
they commit any thing against that state, or the person
of the prince, with whom they reside; and if they are
guilty of treason, felony, &c. or- any other crime a-
gainst the law of nations, they lose the privilege of an
ambassador, and may be subject to punishment as pri¬
vate aliens.
AMBE, in Surgery, the name of an instrument for
reducing dislocated bones. In Anatomy, a term for the
superficial jutting out of a bone.
AMBER {Succiniini), in Natural History, a solid,
hard, semipellucid, bituminous substance, of a particular
nature, of use in medicine and in several of the arts. It
has been called ambra by the Arabians, and electrum
by the Greeks.
Amber has been of great repute in the world from
the earliest times. Many years before Christ it was in
3
esteem as a medicine ; and Plato, Aristotle, Herodotus, Anita-
/Eschylus, and others, have commended its virtues. In   
the times of the Romans, it became in high esteem as a
gem ; and in the luxurious reign of Nero, immense quan¬
tities of it were brought to Rome, and used for ornament¬
ing works of various kinds.
The most remarkable property of this substance is,
that when rubbed it draws or attracts other bodies to it:
and this, it is observed, it does even to those substances
which the ancients thought it had an antipathy to ; as
oily bodies, drops of water, human sweat, &c. Add,
that, by the friction it is brought to yield light pretty
copiously in the dark ; whence it is reckoned amomr
the native phosphori.
The property which amber possesses of attracting
light bodies was very anciently observed. Thales of
Miletus, 600 years before Christ, concluded from hence,
that it was animated. But the first person who express¬
ly mentions this substance is Theophrastus, about the
year 300 before Christ. The attractive property of am¬
ber is likewise occasionally taken notice of by Pliny and
other later naturalists, particularly by Gassend us, Kenelm
Digby, and Sir Thomas Brown ; but it was generally
apprehended that this quality was peculiar to amber and
jet, and perhaps agate, till Gilbert published his treatise
de Magnete, in the year 1600. From the
Greek name for amber, is derived the term Electricity,
which is now very extensively applied, not only to the
power of attracting light bodies inherent in amber, but
to other similar powers, and their various effects in what¬
ever bodies they reside, or to whatever bodies they mav
be communicated.
Amber assumes all figures in the ground; that of a
pear, an almond, a pea, &c. In amber there have been
said to be letters found very w^ell formed ; and even
Hebrew and Arabic characters.—Within some pieces,
leaves, insects, &c. have likewise been found included;
which seems to indicate either that the amber was ori¬
ginally in a fluid state, or that having been exposed to
the sun, it was once softened and rendered susceptible of
the leaves, insects, &c. which came in its w7ay. The
latter of these suppositions seems the more agreeable to
the phenomenon ; because those insects, &c. are never
found in the centre of the pieces of amber, but always
near the surface. It is observed by the inhabitants of
those places where amber is produced, that all animals,
whether terrestrial, aerial, or aquatic, are extremely fond
of it, and that pieces of it are frequently found in their
excrements. The bodies of insects, found buried in am¬
ber, are viewed with admiration by all the world ; but
of the most remarkable of these, many are to be sus¬
pected as counterfeit, the great price at which beautiful
specimens of this kind sell, having tempted ingenious
cheats to introduce animal bodies in such artful manners,
into seemingly whole pieces of amber, that it is not easy
to detect the fraud.
Of those insects which have been originally enclosed
in amber, some are plainly seen to have struggled haid
for their liberty, and even to have left their limbs be¬
hind them in the attempt ; it being no unusual thing
to see, in a mass of amber that contains a stout beetle,
the animal wanting one, or perhaps two of its legs ;
and those legs left in different places, nearer that part
of the mass from which it has travelled. This also
may account for the common accident of finding legs
or
A M B
y^Hiber.
or w mgs of flics, without the rest of their bodies, in
pieces of amber , the insects having, when entangled
in the yet soft and viscid matter, escaped, at the ex-
pence of leaving those limbs behind them. Drops of
clear water are sometimes also preserved in amber.
These have doubtless been received into it while soft,
and preserved by its hardening round them. Beauti¬
ful leaves of a pinnated structure, resembling some of
the ferns, or maidenhairs, have been found in some
pieces j but these are rare, and the specimens of great
value. Mineral substances are also found at times
lodged m masses of amber, feon.e of the pompous col¬
lections of the German princes boast of specimens of
native gold and silver in masses of amber; but as there
are many substances of the marcaske, and other kinds,
tiiat have all the glittering appearance of gold and sil¬
ver, it is not to be too hastily concluded, that these
metals are really lodged in these beds of amber. Iron
is found in Various shapes immersed in amber ; and as
it is often seen eroded, and sometimes in the state of
vitriol, it is not impossible but that copper, and the
other metals, may be also sometimes immersed in it in
the same state ; hence the bluish and greenish colours,
frequently found in the recent pieces of amber, may
he owing, like the particles of the gem colours, to
those metals; but as the gems, by their dense texture,
always retain their colours, this lighter and more lax
bitumen usually loses what it gets of this kind by keep¬
ing some time. Small pebbles, grains of sand, and frag¬
ments of other stones, are also not uufrequently found
immersed in amber.
Naturalists have been greatly divided as to the ori¬
gin of this substance, and what class of bodies it be¬
longs to ; some referring it to the vegetable, others to
the mineral, and some even to the animal kingdom.
Pliny describes it as “ a resinous juice, oozing from
aged pines and firs (others say from poplars, whereof
there are whole forests on the coasts of Sweden), and
discharged thence into the sea, where undergoing some
alteration, it is thrown, in this form, upon the shores of
Prussia, which lie very low: he adds, that it was hence
the ancients gave it the denomination succinum,• from
succus, juice. ,
Some suppose amber a compound substance. Prus¬
sia, say they, and the other countries which produce
amber, are moistened with a bituminous juice, which
mixing with the vitriolic salts abounding in those
places, the points of those salts fix its fluidity, whence
it congeals ; and the result of that congelation makes
what we call amber; wnich is more or less pure, trans¬
parent and firm, as those parts of salt and bitumen are
more or less pure, and are mixed in this or that propor¬
tion.
Mr Brydone, in his Tour to Sicily and Malta, says,
that the river Gearetta, formerly celebrated by the
poets under the name of Simetus, throws up near its
mouth great quantities of amber. He mentions also a
kind of artificial amber, not uncommon there, made,
as he was told, from copal, but very different from the
natural.
Accoiding to Hartman, amber is formed of a bitu¬
men, mixed with vitriol and other salts. But though
this were allowed him in regard to the fossil amber,
many dispute whether the sea amber be so produced,
ft is, however, apparent, that all amber is of the
[ 775- ]
A M B
same origin, and probably that which is found in the
sea has been washed thither out of the cliffs; though1
Hartman thinks it very possible, that some of it may
)e in the earth under the sea, and be washed
up thence. The sea amber is usually finer to the eye
tnan the fossil ; but the reason is, that it is divested of
the coarse coat with which the other is covered while
in the earth.
Upon the- whole, it seems generally agreed upon,
that amber is a true bitumen of a fossil origin. In a
late volume of the Journal de Physique, however, we
hud it asserted by Dr Girtanner to be an animal pro¬
duct, a sort of honey or wax formed by a species of
large ant called by Linnecusybr/w/cfl rvfa. These ants,
our author informs ns, inhabit the old pine forests,
where they sometimes form hills about six feet in dia¬
meter: and it is generally in these ancient forests, or
in places where they have been, that fossil amber is
found. This substance is not hard as that which is ta¬
ken up in the sea at Prussia, and which is well known
to naturalists. It has the consistence of honey or of
half melted wax, but it is of a yellow colour like com¬
mon amber ; it gives the same product by cheminal
analysis, and it hardens like the other when it is suf¬
fered to remain some time in a solution of common
salt. This accounts for the insects that are so often
found inclosed in it. Among these insects ants are al¬
ways the most prevailing ; which tends farther, Mr
Girtanner thinks, to the confirmation of his hypothesis.
Amber, then, in his opinion, is nothing hut a vegetable
oil rendered concrete by the acid of ants, just as wax is
nothing hut an oil hardened by the acid of bees; a fact
incontestably proved, we are told, since Mr Metherie
has been able to make artificial wax by mixing oil of
olives with the nitrous acid, and which wax is not to
be distinguished from the natural.
I here are several indications which discover where
amber is to he found. 1 he surface of the earth is there
covered with a soft scaly stone ; and vitriol in particu¬
lar always abounds there, which is sometimes found
white, sometimes reduced into a matter like melted
glass, and sometimes figured like petrified wood.
Amber of the finest kind has been found in Eng¬
land. It is frequently thrown on the shores of York¬
shire, and many other places, and found even in our
clay pits ; the pits dug for tile-clay, between Tyburn
and Kensington gravel pits, and that behind St George’s
Plospital at Hyde-park corner, have afforded fine speci¬
mens.
Poland, Silesia, and Bohemia, are famous for the
amber dug up there at this time. Germany affords
great quantities of amber, as well dug up from the
bowels of the earth, as tossed about on the shore of
the sea and rivers there. Saxony, Misnia, Sweden,
and many other places in this tract of Europe, abound
with it. Denmark has afforded, at different times, se¬
veral quantities of fossil amber; and the shores of the
Baltic abound witii it. But the countries lying on the
Baltic afford it in the greatest abundance of all ; and
of these the most plentiful country is Prussia, and the
next is Pomerania. Prussia was, as early as the time
of Theodoric the Goth, famous for amber ; for this
substance coming into great repute with this prince,
some natives of Prussia, who were about his court, of¬
fered their service to go to their own country, where
that
Amber.
A M B
[ 776 ]
A M B
Amber, that substance, they said, was produced, and bring back
 great stores of it. They accordingly did so 5 and from
this time Prussia had the honour to be called the coun¬
try of amber, instead of Italy, which had before unde¬
servedly that title. This article alone brings his Prus¬
sian majesty a revenue of 26,000 dollars annually. The
amber of Prussia is not only found on the sea coasts,
but in digging j and though that of Pomerania is ge¬
nerally brought from the shores, yet people who dig,
on different occasions, in the very heart of the country,
at times find amber.
Junker describes, after Neumann, the Prussian amber
mines, which are the richest known. First, At the sur¬
face of the earth is found a stratum of sand. Immedi¬
ately under this sand is a bed of clay, filled with small
flints of about an inch diameter each. Under this clay
lies a stratum of black earth or turf, filled with fossil
wood, half decomposed and bituminous : this stratum
is extended upon a bank of minerals, containing little
metal except iron, which are consequently pyrites.
Lastly, Under this bed the amber is found scattered
about in pieces, or sometimes accumulated in heaps.
Amber has a subacrid resinous taste, and fragrant
aromatic smell, especially when dissolved. It differs
from the other bituminous substances in this, that it
yields by distillation a volatile acid salt, which none of
the others do ", otherwise it affords the same sort of
principles as them, viz., an acid phlegm, an oil which
1 gradually becomes thicker as the distillation is conti¬
nued •, and when the operation is finished, there re¬
mains a black caput mortuum in the retort. When
boiled in water, it neither softens nor undergoes any
sensible alteration. Exposed to the fire in an open
vessel, it melts into a black mass very like a bitumen :
It is partly soluble in spirit of wine, and likewise in
some essential oils ; but it is with difficulty that the
expressed ones are brought to act upon it. The
stronger sorts of fixed alkaline lixivia almost totally
dissolve it.
This substance is principally of two colours, white
and yellow. The white is the most esteemed for me¬
dicinal purposes, as being the most odoriferous, and
containing the greatest quantity of volatile salt} though
the yellow is most valued by those who manufacture
beads and other toys with it, by reason of its transpa¬
rency.
Amber is the basis of all varnishes, by solution in the
ways described under the article Varnish.
Amber, when it has once been melted, irrecoverably
loses its beauty and hardness. There have been some,
however, who pretended they had an art of melting
some small pieces of amber into a mass, and constitu¬
ting large ones of them : but this seems such another
undertaking as the making of gold j all the trials that
have yet been made by the most curious experimenters,
proving, that the heat which is necessary to melt am¬
ber is sufficient to destroy it. (Phil. Trans. N° 248.
p. 25.).
Could amber indeed be dissolved without impairing
its transparency, or one large mass be made of it by
uniting several small ones, it is easy to see what would
be the advantages of such a process. The art of em¬
balming might possibly be also carried to a great height
by this, if we could preserve the human corpse in a
transparent case of amber, as the bodies of flies, spi-
Amber
ders, grashoppers, &c. are to a great perfection.-—
Something of a substitute of this kind we have in fine
rosin j which being dissolved by heat, and the bodies of ^n ber8rb
small animals several times dipped-in it, they are thus ’
coated with colophony, that in some degree resembles
amber ; but this must be kept from dust.
Amber in substance has been much recommended as
a nervous and cordial medicine $ and alleged to be
very efficacious in promoting the menstrual discharge,
and the exclusion of the foetus and secundines in la¬
bour : but as in its crude state it is quite insoluble by
our juices, it certainly can have very little effect on the
animal system, and therefore it is now seldom given in
substance. The forms in which amber is prepared are,
a tincture, a salt, and an oil", the preparations and uses
of which are described in the proper place under the
article Pharmacy.
Amber Tree, the English name of a species of An-
THOSPERMUM.
AMBERG, a city of Germany, the capital of the
upper palatinate of Bavaria, with a good castle, ram¬
parts, and deep ditches. It is seated near the confines
of Franconia, on the river Wils. It has a great trade in
iron and other metals, which are found in the neigh¬
bouring mountains. E. Long. 12. o. N. Lat. 49. 25.
Amberg, a lofty mountain of East Gothland in
Sweden. Near the Wetter lake on this mountain, an¬
timony has been found. On its top is the burying-place
of one of the ancient kings of the country. The spot
is marked by a flat stone.
AMBERGRIS, Ambergrease, or Gray-Amber,
in Natural History, is a solid, opaque, ash-coloured,
fatty, inflammable substance, variegated like marble,
remarkably light, rugged, and uneven in its surface,
and has a fragrant odour when heated. It does not
effervesce with acids : it melts freely over the fire into
a kind of yellow rosin ; and is hardly soluble in spirit
of wine.
It is found swimming upon the sea, or the sea coast,
or in the sand near the sea coast; especially in the At¬
lantic ocean, on the sea coast of Brazil, and that of
Madagascar ", on the coast of Africa, of the East In¬
dies, China, Japan, and the Molucca islands : but most
of the ambergris which is brought to England comes
from the Bahama islands, from Providence, &c. where
it is found on the coast. It is also sometimes found in
the abdomen of whales by the whale fishermen, always
in lumps of various shapes and sizes, weighing from
half an ounce to a hundred and more pounds. The
piece which the Dutch East India Company bought
from the king of Tydore, weighed 182 pounds. An
American fisherman from Antigua found some years
ago, about fifty-two leagues south-east from the Wind¬
ward islands, a piece of ambergris in a whale which
weighed about a hundred and thirty pounds, and sold
for 500I. sterling.
There have been many different opinions concerning
the origin of this substance.
It has been supposed to be a fossil bitumen or naph¬
tha, exuding out of the bowels of the earth in a fluid
form, and distilling into the sea, where it hardens and
floats on the surface. But having been frequently
found in the bellies of whales, it has by others been
considered as entirely an animal production.
Clusius asserted it to be a phlegmatic recrement, or
indurated
AAi
A M B [ 777 ]
Ambergti*. indurated^ indigestible part of the food, collected and dently, that all
found in the stomach of the whale, in the same manner
as the Bezoars are found in the stomachs of other
animals.
In an account communicated by Paul Dudley, Esq.
in the 23d volume of the Philosophical Transactions,
the ambergris found in whales is represented as a kind
oi animal product, like musk and castoreum, &c. secret-
fed and collected in a particular bag or bladder, which
is furnished with an excretory duct or canal, the spout
of which runs tapering into and through the length of
the penis j and that this bag, which just lies over the
testicles, is almost full of a deep orange-coloured liquor,
not quite so thick as oil, of the same smell as the balls
of ambergris, which float and swim loose in it j which
colour and liquor may also be found in the canal of the
penis; and that therefore ambergris is never to be
found in any female, but in the male only. But these
circumstances are not only destitute of truth, but also
contrary to the laws of die animal economy : For, in
the first place, ambergris is frequently found in females
xs well as males j although that found in females is ne¬
ver in such large pieces, nor of so good a quality, as
what is found in males. Secondly, No person who has
the least knowledge in anatomy or physiology, will
ever believe that organized bodies, such as the beaks of
the sepia, which are so constantly found in ambergris ta¬
ken out of the whale, can have been absorbed from the
intestines by the lacteals or lymphatics, and collected
with the ambergris in the precluded bag above men¬
tioned.
Kaempfer, who has given us so many other faithful
accounts in natural hislory, seems to come nearer the
truth with regard to the origin of ambergris, when he
says, that it is the dung of the whale ; and that the Ja¬
panese for this reason call it kusura no few, i. e. whale’s
dung. This account, however, though founded on ob¬
servation, has never obtained credit ; but has been con¬
sidered rather as a fabulous story, with which the Ja¬
panese imposed upon him, who had himself no direct ob¬
servation to prove the fact.
This matter, therefore, remained a subject of great
doubt j and it was generally thought to be more proba¬
ble, that ambergris, after having been swallowed and
somehow or other changed in the stomach and bowels
©f the whale, was found among its excrements.
But the most satisfactory account of the real origin
of ambergris, is that given by Dr Svvediaur in the 73d
volume of the Philosophical Transactions, art. 15.
We are told by all writers on ambergris, that some¬
times claws and beaks of birds, feathers of birds, parts
of vegetables, shells, fish, and bones of fish, are found
in the middle of it, or variously mixed with it. Of a
very large quantity of pieces, however, which the Doc¬
tor examined, he found none that contained any such
thing ; though he allows that such substances may some¬
times be found in it : but in all the pieces of any consi¬
derable size, whether found on the sea or in the whale,
he constantly found a considerable quantity of black
spots, which, after the most careful examination, ap¬
peared to be the beaks of the Sepia Octopodia ; and these
beaks, he thinks, might be the substances which have
hitherto been always mistaken for claws or beaks of
birds, or shells.
The presence of these beaks in ambergris proves evi-
Vol. I. Part II, f
A M B
ambergris containing them is in its
origin, or must have been once, of a very soft or liquid
nature, as otherwise those beaks could not so con¬
stantly be intermixed with it throughout its whole sub¬
stance.
I hat ambergris is found either upon the sea and sea-
coast, or in the bowels of whales, is a matter of fact
universally credited. But it has never been examined
into and determined whether the ambergris found upon
the sea and sea-coast, is the same as that found in the
whale, or whether they are different from one another ;
whether that found on the sea or sea-coast has some pro¬
perties, or constituent parts, which that found in the
w 1 a 1 e has not j and lastly, whether that found in the
whale is superior or inferior in its qualities and value to
the former.
It is likewise a matter of consequence to know, whe¬
ther ambergris is found in all kinds of whales, or only
in a particular species ofthem j whether it is constantly
and always to be met with in those animals j and, if so,
in what part of their body it is to be found ?
Ail these questions we find very satisfactorily discussed
by Dr Swediaur.
According to the best information that he could ob¬
tain from several of the most intelligent persons em¬
ployed in the spermaceti whale fishery, and iu procur¬
ing and selling ambergris, it appears, that this sub¬
stance is sometimes found in the belly of the whale,
but in that particular species only which is called the
spermaceti whale, and which, from its description and
delineation, appears to be the Physeter Macrocepha-
lus Linnsei.
I he New England fishermen, according to their ac¬
count, have long known that ambergris is to be found
in the spermaceti whale j and they are so convinced of
this fact, that whenever they hear of a place where am¬
bergris is found, they always conclude that the seas in
that part are frequented by that species of whale.
I he persons who are employed in the spermaceti
whale fishery, confine their views to the physeter ma-
crocephalus. They look for ambergris in all the sper¬
maceti whales they catch, but it seldom happens that
they find any. 'Whenever they hook a spermaceti
whale, they observe, that it constantly not only vomits
up whatever it has in its stomach, but also generally
discharges its faeces at the same time j and if this latter
circumstances takes place, they are generally disappoint¬
ed in finding ambergris in its belly. But whenever
they discover a spermaceti whale, male or female, which
seems torpid and sickly, they are always pretty sure to
find ambergris, as the whale in this state seldom voids
its faeces upon being hooked. They likewise generally
meet with it in the dead spermaceti whales, which they
sometimes find floating on the sea. It is observed also,
that the whale in which they find ambergris often
has a morbid protuberance, or, as they express it, a
kind of gathering in the lower part of its belly, in
which, if cut open, ambergris is found. It is obser¬
ved, that all those whales in whose bowels ambergris
is found, seem not only torpid and sick, but are also
constantly leaner than others; so that, if we may judge
from the constant union of these two circumstances, it
would seem that a larger collection of ambergris in the
belly of the whale is a source of disease, and probably
sometimes the cause of its death, As soon as they
S T hook
A M B [ 778 ] A M B
AuibfpMis. hook a whale of this description, torpid, sickly, ema-
 .j-.—1’ elated, or one that does not dung on being hooked,
they immediately either cut up the above-meniioned
protuberance, if there be any, or they rip open its
bowels from the orifice of the anus, and find the am¬
bergris sometimes in one sometimes in different lumps,
of generally from three to twelve and more inches in
diameter, and from one pound to twenty or thirty
pounds in weight, at the distance of two, but most
frequently of about six or seven feet from the anus, and
never higher up in the intestinal canal; which, accord¬
ing to their description, is in all probability the intes-
tinum caecum, hitherto mistaken for a peculiar bag
made by nature for the secretion and collection of this
singular substance. That the part they cut open to
come at the ambergris is no other than the intestinal
canal is certain, because they constantly begin their in¬
cision at the anus, and find the cavity everywhere fill¬
ed with the faeces of the whale, which from their co¬
lour and smell it is impossible for them to mistake. The
ambergris found in the intestinal canal is not so hard
as that which is found on the sea or sea-coast, but soon
grows hard in the air : when first taken out, it has
nearly the same colour, and the same disagreeable smell,
though not so strong, as the more liquid dung of the
whale has ; but on exposing it to the air, it by degrees
not only grows grayish, and its surface is covered with
a grayish dust, like old chocolate, but it also loses its
disagreeable smell, and, when kept for a certain length
of time, acquires the peculiar odour which is so agree¬
able to most people.
The gentlemen the Doctor conversed with confessed,
that if they knew not from experience that ambergris
thus found will in time acquire the above-mentioned
qualities, they would by no means be able to distinguish
ambergris from hard indurated faeces. This is so true,
that whenever a whale voids its fseces upon being-
booked, they look carefully to see if they cannot dis¬
cover among the more liquid excrements (of which the
whale discharges several barrels) some pieces floating
on the sea of a more compact substance than the rest.
These they take up and wash, knowing them to be am¬
bergris.
' In considering whether there be any material differ¬
ence between the ambergris found upon the sea or sea-
coast, and that found in the bowels or among the dung
of the whale, the Doctor refutes the opinion, that all
ambergris found in whales is of an inferior quality,
and therefore much less in price. Ambergris, be ob¬
serves, is only valued for its purity, lightness, compact¬
ness, colour, and smell. There are pieces of amber¬
gris found on different coasts, which are of a very in¬
ferior quality, whereas there are often found in whales
pieces of it of the first value j nay, several pieces found
in the same whale, according to the above mentioned
qualities, are more or less valuable. All ambergris
found in whales has at first, when taken out of the in¬
testines, very near the same smell as the liquid excre¬
ments of that animal have ; it has then also nearly the
same blackish colour: they find it in the whale some¬
times quite hard, sometimes rather sofi’di, but never so
liquid as the natural faeces of that animal. And it is
a matter of fact, that after being taken out and kept
in the air, all ambergris grows not only harder and
whiter, but also loses by degrees its smell, and assumes
-3
such an agreeable one, as that in general has which is Ambergris
found swimming upon the sea j therefore the goodness
of ambergris seems rather to depend on its age. By
being accumulated after a certain length of time in
the intestinal canal, it seems even then to become of
a whiter colour, and less ponderous, and to acquire its
agreeable smell. The only reason why ambergris found
floating on the sea generally possesses the above-men¬
tioned qualities in a superior degree is, because it is
commonly older, and has been longer exposed to the
air. It is more frequently found in males than females;
the pieces found in females are in general smaller, and
those found in males seem constantly to be larger and
of a better quality; and therefore the high price in
proportion to the size is not merely imaginary for the
rarity’s sake, but in some respects well founded, be¬
cause such large pieces appear to be of a greater age,
and possess the above-mentioned qualities in gene¬
ral in a higher degree of perfection than smaller
pieces.
It is known, that the sepia octopodia, or cuttle-fish,
is the constant and natural food of the spermaceti
whale, or pliyseter macrocephalus. Of this the fishers
are so well persuaded, that whenever they discover any
recent relics of it swimming on the sea, they conclude
that a whale of this kind is, or has been, in that part.
Another circumstance which corroborates the fact is,
that the spermaceti whale, on being booked, generally
vomits up some remains of the sepia. Hence it is easy
to account for the many beaks, or pieces of beaks, of
the sepia, found in all ambergris. The beak of the sepia
is a black horny substance, and therefore passes undi- »
gested through the stomach into the intestinal canal,
where it is mixed with the faeces ; after which it is ei¬
ther evacuated with them, or if these latter be preterna-
turaliy retained, forms concretions with them, which
render the animal sick and torpid, and produce an ob¬
stipation, which ends either in an abscess of the abdo¬
men, as has been frequently observed, or becomes fatal
to the animal ; whence, in both the cases, on the burst¬
ing of its belly, that hardened substance known under
the name of ambergris, is found swimming on the sea or
thrown upon the coast.
From the preceding account, and his having constant¬
ly found the above mentioned beaks of the sepia in all
pieces of ambergris of any considerable size, Dr Swe-
diaur concludes, rvitli great probability, that all amber¬
gris is generated in the bowels of the physeter macroce¬
phalus or spermaceti whale ; and there mixed with the
beaks of the sepia octopodia, which is the principal food
of that whale. He therefore defines ambergris to be
the preternaturaliy hardened dung or fasces of the phy¬
seter macrocephalus, mixed with some indigestible relics _
of its food.
The opinion of Dr Swediaur, with regard to the
origin of ambergris, has been confirmed by the infor¬
mation of Captain J. Coffin, master of a ship employed
in the southern whale fishery, given to a committee
of privy council in the year 1791. According to Mr
Coffin’s information, American ships had sometimes
found small quantities of ambergris ; but none, that he
knew of, had ever been found by British ships. The
quantity which he had brought home amounted to
362 ounces ; and it was taken from the body of a fe¬
male spermaceti whale on the coast of Guinea, which
was
A M B [ 779
Ambergris. Was lean, sickly, and old ; and yielded but a small pro-
* v ~ ' portion of oil. While the people were employed in
cutting up the blubber, ambergris was discovered
coming from the fundament of the whale, and a piece
of it was seen floating on the surface of the sea. More
was observed in the same passage, and the rest was
found in a bag a little below the passage and commu¬
nicating with it. Mr Coffin supposes, that the sper¬
maceti whale feeds almost wholly on the sepia or
squid; for when the whale is dying, a quantity of this
fish, sometimes whole, sometimes in pieces, is thrown
up. The bills of the squid were found, some on the
outside adhering to it, and some mixed with it. The
spermaceti whale, when struck, generally voids her ex¬
crement, and if she does not, Mr Coffin conjectures,
that she has no ambergris •, for he supposes, that the
production of it is the cause or the effect of some dis¬
order ; and that it is most likely to be found in a sickly
fish. The ambergris of the whale taken by Mr Coffin
was mostly sold at 19s. pd. per ounce ; and a small part
of it, when it was scarce, at 25s. It was bought part¬
ly for home consumption, and partly for exportation to
Turkey, Germany, and France. (Phil. Trans, vol.
Ixxxi.).
The use of ambergris in Europe is now nearly con¬
fined to perfumery, though it has formerly been re¬
commended in medicine by several eminent physicians.
Hence the Essentia Ambrae Hoffmanni, Tinctura Re¬
gia Cod. Parisini, Trochisci de Ambra Ph. Wurtem-
berg, &c.
If we wish to see any medicinal effects from this sub¬
stance, the Doctor observes, we must certainly not ex¬
pect them from two or three grains, but give rather
as many scruples of it for a dose ; though even then,
he thinks, there would not be reason to expect much
effect from it, as he had himself taken of pure un¬
adulterated ambergris in powder 30 grains at once,
without observing the least sensible effect from it. A
sailor, however, who bad the curiosity to try the ef¬
fect of recent ambergris upon himself, took half an
ounce of it melted upon the fire, and found it a good
purgative ; which proves that it is not quite an inert
substance.
In Asia and part of Africa ambergris is not only
used as a medicine and a perfume; but considerable
use is also made of it in cookery, by adding it to
several dishes as a spice. A great quantity of it is al¬
so constantly bought by the pilgrims who travel to
Mecca ; probably to offer it there, and make use of it
in fumigations, in the same manner as frankincense is
used in Catholic countries. The Turks make use of it
as an aphrodisiac. Our perfumers add it to scented
pillars, candles, balls, bottles, gloves, and hairpow-
der; and its essence is mixed with pomatums; for
the face and hands, either alone or mixed with musk,
&c. though its smell is to some persons extremely of¬
fensive.
Ambergris may be known to be genuine by its fra¬
grant scent when a hot needle or pin is thrust into it,
and its melting like fat of an uniform consistence ;
whereas the counterfeit will not yield such a smell, nor
prove of such a fat texture. One thing, however, is
very remarkable, that this drug, which is the most
sweet of all the perfumes, should be capable of being
1
A M B
resembled in smell by a preparation of one of the most Ambers*m
odious of all stinks. Mr Homberg found that a vessel ||
in which he had made a long digestion of human Ambient.^
faeces, acquired a very strong and perfect smell of am- v~ '
bergris, insomuch that any one would have thought
a great quantity of essence of ambergris had been
made in it. The perfume was so strong and offensive,
that the vessel was forced to be removed out of the la¬
boratory.
AM BERT, a small town of France, in the depart¬
ment of Puy de Dome, formerly Lower Auvergne.
It is the chief place of a small territory called Livra-
dois. Paper and playing cards, camblets, and woollen
stuffs are manufactured here. E. Long. 3. 48. N. Lat.
45* 33-
AM BETTUWAY, a barbarous name of a tree,
the leaves of which, when boiled in wine, are said to
create an appetite, and are used by the people in Guinea
with that intention. 1
AMBIANI, or Ambianensis civitas, now A-
miens, a city of Picardy. It is called Samarobriva by
Caesar and Cicero : which, according to Valesius, sig¬
nifies the bridge of the Samara, or Somme. Ambiani
is a later name, taken from that of the people, after
the usual manner of the lower age. This people, ac¬
cording to Caesar, furnished 5000 men for the siege of
Alesia.
AMBIDEXTER, a person who can use both hands
with the same facility, and for the same purposes, that
the generality of people do their right hands. As
to the natural cause of this faculty, some, as Hcefer,
attribute it to an extraordinary supply of blood and
spirits from the heart and brain, which furnishes both
hands with the necessary strength and agility ; others,
as Nicholas Massa, to an erect situation of the heart,
inclining neither to the right hand nor the left; and
others to the right and left subclavian arteries being of
the same height, and the same distance from the heart,
by which the blood is propelled with equal force to
both hands. But these are only conjectures, or rather
chimeras. Many think, that were it not for educa¬
tion and habit, all mankind would be ambidexters ;
and in fact, we frequently find nurses obliged to be at
a good deal of pains before they can bring children to
forego the use of their left hands. How far it may be
an advantage to be deprived of half our natural dexte¬
rity, may be doubted. It is certain, there are infinite
occasions in life, when it would be better to have the
equal use of both hands. Surgeons and oculists are of
necessity obliged to be ambidexters ; bleeding, &c. in
the left arm or left ancle, and operations on the left
eye, cannot be well performed but with the left hand.
—Various instances occur in history, where the left
hand has been exercised preferably to the right. But
by the laws of the ancient Scythians, people were en¬
joined to exercise both hands alike ; and Plato enjoins
ambidexterity to be observed and encouraged in his re¬
public.
Ambidexter, among English Lawyers, a juror or
embracer, who accepts money of both parties, for giving
his verdict: an offence for which he is liable to be im¬
prisoned, for ever excluded from a jury, and to pay ten
times the sum he accepted.
AMBIENT, a term used for such bodies, especially
5 F 2 fluids-.
A M B r 780 ] A M B
Ambient fluids, as encompass others on all sides : thus, the air is
jj frequently called an ambient fluid, because it is difl’u-
Ambitns. se(] round the earth.
AMBIEKLE, a town of France, in the department
of the Rhone and Loire. It is the chief place of a can¬
ton in a district of Roanne.
AMBIGENiE oves, in the heathen sacrifices, an
appellation given to such ewes as, having brought forth
twins, were sacrificed, together with their two lambs,
one on each side. We find them mentioned among
other sacrifices to Juno.
AMBIGENAL hyperbola, a name given by Sir
Isaac Newton to one of the triple hyperbolas of the se¬
cond order, having one of its infinite legs falling within
an angle formed by the assymptotes, and the other
without.
AMBIGUITY, a defect of language, 'whereby words
are rendered ambiguous. See the next article.
AMBIGUOUS, a term applied to a word or expres¬
sion which may be taken in different senses. An ano¬
nymous writer has published a dictionary of ambiguous
words : Lexicon Philosophies in de Ambiguilate Vocabu-
/orrwz, Francof. 1597, 4to.—The responses of the an¬
cient oracles were always ambiguous.
AMBIT, in Geometry, is the same with what is
otherwise called the perimeter of a figure. See PERI¬
METER.
Ambit was particularly used, in antiquity, to de¬
note a space of ground to be left vacant betwixt one
building and another. By the laws of the twelve ta¬
bles, houses were not to be built contiguous, but an
ambit or space of 2\ feet was to be left about each for
fear of fire.—The ambitus of a tomb or monument de¬
noted a certain number of feet, in length and breadth,
around the same, within which the sanctity assigned
to it was limited. The whole ground wherein a tomb
was erected was not to be secreted from the common
uses ; for this reason, it was frequent to inscribe the
ambit on it, that it might be known how far its sanc¬
tity extended : thus, in fronte pedes tot, in agrum pedes
tot.
AMBITION (ambttio) is generally used in a bad
sense, for an immoderate or illegal pursuit of power.
In the strict meaning, however, of the word, it signi¬
fies the same with the ambitus of the Romans. See the
next article.
Ambition, in the former and more usual sense, is one
of those passions that is never to be satisfied. It swells
gradually with success; and every acquisition serves
but as a spur to further attempts.
If a man (it has been well observed) could at once
accomplish all his desires, he would be a miserable crea¬
ture ; lor the chief pleasure of this life is to wish and
desire. Upon this account, every prince who aspires
to be despotic aspires to die of weariness. Searching
every kingdom for the man who has the least comfort
m life, Where is he to be found ?—In the royal palace.
—What! his Majesty ? Yes, especially if he be des¬
potic.”
AM BILLS, in Homan Antiquity, the setting up for
some magistracy or office, and formally going round the
city to solicit the interest and votes of the people.
Ambitus differed from ambition, as the former lies in
the act, the latter in the mind. _
2
Ambitus was of two kinds ; one lawful, the other in- Ambit**
famous. The first, called also ambitus popularis, was jj
when a person ofl’ered his service to the republic frank- Ambo
ly, leaving it to every body to judge of his pretensions
as they found reasonable. The means and instru¬
ments here made use of were various. 1. Amici, or
friends, under different relations, including cognati, af-
Jines, necessarii,familiares,vicini, tribules, chentes, mu-
nicipes, sodales, collegce. 2. Nomenclature, or the call¬
ing and saluting every person by his name ; to which
purpose, the candidates were attended by an officer,
under the denomination of interpres, or nomenclator.
3. Blanditia, or obliging persons, by serving them, or
their friends, patrons, or the like, with their vote and
interest on other occasions. 4. Prensatio, the shaking
every person by the hand, offering him his service,
friendship, &c. The second kind was that wherein
force, cajoling, money, or other extraordinary influence,
was made use of. This was held infamous, and severe¬
ly punished, as a source of corruption and other mis¬
chiefs.
Ambitus was practised, not only at Rome, and in the
forum, but in the meetings and assemblies of other
towns in Italy, where numbers of citizens were usually
found, on account of trade and business. The practice
ceased in the city from the time of the emperors, by
reason posts were not then to be had by courting the
people, but by favour from the prince.
Persons who had causes depending practised the same,
going about among the judges to implore their favour
and mercy. They who practised this were called Am-
bitiosi. Hence we also meet with ambitiosa deer eta,
and ambitiosa justa, used for such sentences and de¬
crees as were thus procured from the judges, contra¬
ry to reason and equity, either gratuitously or for mo¬
ney.
AMBLE, in Plorsemanship, a peculiar pace by
which a horse’s two legs of the same side move at the
same time. See Horsemanship.
AMBLESIDE, a town in Westmoreland, seated
at one end of Winandermeer. W. Long. o. 49. N. Lat.
54- 3°-
AMBLETEUSE, a sea-port-town of France, in the
department of the Straits of Calais, in the English
Channel, twelve miles south-west from Calais, and eight
north from Boulogne. At this port Caesar embarked
his cavalry when he invaded England ; and James II.
when he abdicated the crown landed. It is defended
with a battery of cannon. E. Long. 1. 37. N. Lat.
50.48.
AMBLYGON, in Geometry, denotes an obtuse-
angled triangle, or a triangle one of whose angles con¬
sists of more than 90 degrees.
AMBL^t OPY, among physicians, signifies an ob¬
scuration of the sight, so that objects at a distance can¬
not be clearly distinguished.
AMBO, or Ambon, a kind of pulpit or desk, in the
ancient churches, where the priests and deacons stood
to read or sing part of the service, and preach to the
people ; called also Analogium. The term is derived
from Ma.fiau'im, “ to mount.” The ambo was mounted
upon two sides; whence some also derive the appella¬
tion from the Latin ambo, “ both.”
The ambo was ascended by steps ; which occasioned
that
a M B C 781 ] A M B
AHibo that part of the office performed there to be called the
ii Gradual. See Gradual.
-Besides the gospel, which was read at the top of the
ambo, and the epistle, which was read a step lower,
they likewise published from this place the acts of the
martyrs, the commemoration of departed saints, and
the letters of peace and communion sent by one church
to another: here, too converts made a public pro¬
fession of their faith 5 and bishops their defence, when
accused j treaties also were sometimes concluded, and
the coronations of emperors and kings performed, in
the same place.
The modern reading-desks and pulpits have been ge¬
nerally substituted for the ancient ambosj though, in
some churches remains of the ambos are still seen. In
that of St John de Lateran at Rome, there are two
moveable ambos.
AMBOHITSMENE, or Vohitsanghombe, a pro¬
vince of the island of Madagascar, so called from some
red mountains of the same name, lying in S. Lat. 20°.
These mountains are very high, resembling the Tafel-
berg of the Cape of Good Hope. On one side of this
ridge the sea extends into the country for fifteen
leagues ; on the other is a flat country, abounding in
ponds and marshes. Here is also a lake of 15 leagues
in length, and the same in breadth, containing many
small islands. The inhabitants of the mountains are
called Zaferahongs; and have plenty of gold, iron,
cattle, silk, &c.
AMBOISE, a town of France, in the former pro¬
vince of Touraine, now the department of the Indre
and Loire, seated at the confluence of the rivers Loire
and Masse. The town is the capital of a district, and
has been rendered famous in history by the conspiracy
of the Protestants in 1560, which opened the fatal wars
of religion in France. The castle is situated on a
craggy rock, extremely difficult of access, and the
sides of which are almost perpendicular. At its foot
flows the Loire, which is divided into two streams by
a small island. To this fortress the duke of Guise,
when he expected an insurrection among the Hugue¬
nots, removed Francis II. as to a place of perfect se¬
curity. Only two detached parts of the ancient castle
now remain, one of which was constructed by Charles
V III. and the other by Francis I. The former of these
princes was born and died at Amboise. The town is
situated in E. Long. o. 34. N. Lat. 47. 25.
Amboise, D', Francis, son of a surgeon to Charles
IX. of France. He very early obtained the patronage
of that prince, and was supported by his liberality in
the prosecution of his studies at the university of Na¬
varre, where he devoted his talents to rhetoric and phi¬
losophy with great assiduity and success. His eloquence
and extensive information raised him in 1572 to the
place of solicitor of the French nation. He afterwards
applied to the study of the law, and became one of the
most accomplished advocates of the parliament of Paris.
Me was next advanced to be counsellor in the parlia¬
ment of Bretagne, and next to be a master of requests
and counsellor of state. He visited different countries,
and published the history of his travels, with several
poetical pieces. He prefixed an apologetical preface
to the edition of Abelard’s works in 1616, and with
much industry collected many of his manuscripts. His
brother Adrian rose to considerable consequence in the
church ; and his brother James was not less eminent as
a physician. (Gen. Diet.).
Amboise, l)\ George, a French cardinal and mi¬
nister of state, was born in the year 1460. His father
was a descendant of the renowned house of Amboise,
and, through the influence of his powerful connexions,
he beheld the path of church preferment open before
his son ; therefore he destined him to the clerical order.
In these sanguine expectations he was not disappointed ;
for he had sufficient influence to procure for him the
bishopric of Montauhan at the early age of fourteen.
Louis XI. appointed him one of his almoners; and in
the course of political events, he became strongly at¬
tached to the duke of Orleans, and suffered imprison¬
ment in his cause. When this prince, however, had
regained his favour at court, he was elevated to the
archbishopric of Narbonne. After he had remained
there for some time, he changed that station for
the archbishopric of Rouen. When the duke of Or¬
leans was governor of Normandy, he made him lieu¬
tenant general ; and in that situation he was of essen¬
tial service to the province, in restoring justice and
order. "When the duke of Orleans became Louis XIL
Amboise was suddenly raised to the elevated station of
first minister and one of the cardinals. The same re¬
gard to equity, which characterized his conduct when
lieutenant general, induced him to diminish the imposts,
which rendered him very popular as first minister of
I ranee. In 1499, his advice, the king undertook
the conquest of the Milanese, and, on their revolt, the-
first minister was sent to quell the rebellion. The great
confidence which Louis had reposed in him, induced
the pope to make him his legate in France ; and, in '
that station, he piously laboured to reform the eccle¬
siastical orders. He enforced his doctrine by precept,
not only in setting them an example of holding no
more benefices than one at a time, but also by devot¬
ing two-thirds of the revenue of the same to the poor,
and to the repair of religious edifices. According to
his own account he was ambitious of the papal chair,
“ merely for the purpose of effecting the reformation
of abuses and the correction of manners.” It is re¬
ported that, upon the death of Pius III. he would
have been elected pope had he not been deceived by
the Italian cardinals. Disappointed In his views with
regard to the papal honours, he persuaded his master to
declare war against the Venetians, to whose influence
he supposed his failure was owing. But this impru¬
dent undertaking was suddenly interrupted ; for in the
prosecution of his journey for the Venetian war, he
was seized with an illness, and confined in the city of
Lyons. Affliction rouses the reflecting powers of the
mind, and calls to remembrance the past actions of life.
From the consciousness of his past errors and faults he
was induced to express his contrition to a brother of the
infirmary who attended him at the convent of the Ce-
lestines. In the year 1510, and in the 50th cf his age,
he breathed his last in that place. Industry, steadiness,
and good intention, characterized his conduct as a
prime minister. He shone with peculiar brightness as
a man of literature. By his liberality and patronage,
the arts and sciences flourished under his administra¬
tion. It may be proper to add, that, assisted by some
of
A M B [ 782 ] A M B
Amboue f'f the ablest lawyers in the kingdom, he formed a code
Si of laws to reform the reigning abuses in the nation.
Ambovnn. Xhus, by steadily pursuing the general welfare, he ob-
k ’ tained the appellation of the “ father of the people.”
(Gen. Biog.').
AMBOULE, a province of Madagascar, somewhat
to the northward of S. Lat. 230. It is a fertile and
agreeable country, watered by the river Manampani,
whose mouth lies in S. Lat. 23. 30. The country pro¬
duces plants and fruits in plenty. Iron mines are also
found here. The black, cattle are extremely fat, and
their flesh excellent. In this province stands a large
town of the same name; near which is a fountain of
hot water, within 2o feet of a small river whose sand
is almost burning. The water of the fountain is said
to boil an egg hard in two hours ; and the inhabitants
affirm it to be a sovereign remedy against the gout.
The people here are employed in different preparations
of iron and steel, which they have from their own mines,
and forge several instruments with tolerable skill. Their
governor is honoured with the title of Rabertau, or
Great Lord. He exercises sovereign authority and
absolute power ; but is frequently, in times of distress,
surprised by his subjects, who assemble in great num¬
bers, seize his person, and threaten him with death un¬
less they are relieved. To extricate himself from this
dilemma, he is instantly obliged to issue orders for dis¬
tributing provisions among them ) but is usually repaid
with interest, a quadruple return being made in a plen¬
tiful harvest. The people of Amboule live in great li¬
centiousness with their superiors, and their country is
generally a retreat for the roguish and lazy.
AMBOYNA, one of the Molucca islands in the East
Indies. It lies in 8. Lat. 3, 36. and E. Long. 128.
20. and is remarkable for being the centre of the com¬
merce for nutmegs and cloves, which is entirely mo¬
nopolized by the Dutch East India Company. It is
about 24 leagues in circumference. Besides cloves,
it likewise abounds in most of the tropical fruits and
fish , nor is there here any deficiency of good water ;
but flesh is very scarce. This scarcity, however, pro¬
ceeds more from the policy of the Dutch than either
the intemperature of the climate, or the barrenness of
the soil : For excepting cloves, they have in Amboyna,
as well as the Moluccas, industriously discouraged the
cultivation of every esculent commodity, with the view
of withholding subsistence from those who might be
tempted to invade them.
Of the natives the men wear large whiskers, but
leave little hair upon the chin ; and have only a slight
piece of stuff wrapped round their middle. The wo¬
men tie their hair in knots : the maids are bought of
their fathers before they are married ; and if the wife
proves barren, the marriage is dissolved. Some of the
natives are Mahometans, and some Christians : but
they are all said to be lazy, deceitful, and treacherous.
They make war with small swift vessels, in shape like
dragons with regard to the head and tail. Their houses
are built of bamboo canes and sago trees. They sleep
on mats. Their weapons are bows and arrows, jave¬
lins, scimitars, and targets.
Amboyna was first discovered by the Portuguese,
who built a fort upon it, which was taken from them
by the Dutch in 1605. They did not, however, be¬
come masters of the whole island at once. The Eng¬
lish had here five factors, who lived under the protec- Anbavna
tion of the Dutch castle j holding themselves safe, in 1 y——
respect of the friendship between the two nations.
Great differences had arisen between the Dutch and
English colonists in this part of the world ; till at last,
the English East India Company applying to King
James, a treaty was concluded in 16x9, by which the
cobcerns both of the English and Dutch were regu¬
lated, and certain measures agreed upon for prevent¬
ing future disputes. This was an additional security
to the English 5 and by virtue of the treaty, they
continued two years in Amboyna, trading with the
Dutch. During this time, however, several disputes
happened •, which occasioning mutual discontents, the
complaints were sent to Jacatra, in the island of Java
Major, to the council of defence of both nations resi¬
dent there: but they not agreeing, a state of the mat¬
ter was .sent over to Europe, to be decided by the East
India Companies of both nations ; or, in case they
could not agree, by the king of England and the
states of Holland, according to an article in the treaty
of 16x9.—But before these disputes could be decided
iu a legal wmy, the Dutch, in order to give the move
specious colouring to the violent seizure which they
meditated of the island of Amboyna, made use of the
stale pretext of a conspiracy being formed by the Eng¬
lish and Japanese to dispossess them of one of their
forts in this place. This plot, it was alleged, had been
confessed by a Japanese and Portuguese in the English
service, who were most inhumanly tortured till they
should answer in the affirmative such interrogatories as
might favour the secret design of those cruel inquisitors.
Upon the injurious evidence of this constrained decla¬
ration, they immediately accused the English factors
of the pretended conspiracy. Some of them they im¬
prisoned, and others they loaded with irons, and sent
on board their ships 5 seizing at the same time all the
English merchandise, and their writings and books.
These acts of violence were followed by a scene of
horror unexampled in the punishment of the most atro¬
cious offenders. Some of the factors they tortured,
by compelling them to swallow water till their bodies
were distended to the utmost pitch ; then taking the
miserable victims down from the boards to which they
had been fastened, and causing them to disgorge the
water: if they did not acknowledge the imputed guilt,
the process of torture was repeated. Others ot the
English they consumed by burning them gradually
from the feet upwards, in order to extort the confession
of a conspiracy, which was only pretended by the in¬
fernal policy of those savage tormentors. Some had
the nails of the fingers and toes lorn off; and in some
they made holes in their breasts, filling the cavities
with inflammable materials, to which they afterwards
put fire. Those who did not expire under the agonies
of torture were consigned to the hands of the execu¬
tioner.
The allegation of this pretended conspiracy was
equally void of probability and truth. The Dutch had
a garrison of 300 men in the fort, besides the burghers
in the town and several other forts and garrisons in
the island, while the number of the English did not
amount to 20 men ; nor were even those provided witn
arms or ammunition to effect such a design as that with
which they were charged. There likewise was not one
English
A M B [ >-
U English vessel in the harbour, whereas the Dutch had
S,11PS mlin<r near the town : neither, when the
Dutch broke open the desks and trunks of the factors,
was there found a single paper or letter which could be
const) tied into the most distant relation to anv conspi-
lacy. Add to all this, that such of the unhappy suf-
feiers as could speak to be heard, declared in the most
solemn manner their innocence of the plot with which
they were charged.
The whole of the transaction aftbrds the most irrefra-
gaole testimony, that it was founded entirely upon a
political fiction ol the Hollanders, who had themselves
formed the design of monopolizing the trade of the Spice
Islands ; for the accomplishment of which they perpe¬
trated about the same time, a similar tragedy at Pool-
eron, where they put to the torture 162 of the natives,
whom they likewise charged with a pretended conspira-
cv. It may justly be reckoned singular in the fortune
of this commercial republic, that they have ever since
been permitted to enjoy in peace those invaluable islands,
which were originally obtained by such atrocious in¬
fringements of humanity and the laws of nations, as
will stain the Dutch annals, to the latest ages, with in¬
delible infamy.
1 be more effectually to preserve this trade, the Dutch
have had all the clove trees in the adjacent islands grub¬
bed up. Sometimes also, when the harvest is very large,
part of the produce of Amboyna itself is burnt.—To
pi event the rearing of cloves in any of the neighbour¬
ing islands, or the inhabitants from selling them to
strangers, the governor of Amboyna makes the tour of
his government with a fleet of curricurries, consisting
sometimes of 20, and at others of 30, 40, or 50 sail,
i his expedition is made with all the pomp imaginable,
in order to gratify the pride and folly of the Indian
chiefs. The true reason of their taking all this pains
is, because experience has shown, that no contracts,
however solemn, can prevent the inhabitants of those
islands from selling their spice to strangers : and even
now, frauds are so frequently practised bv the Dutch
themselves, though the Company is inexorable in pu¬
nishing them, that the common people call the cloves
galken kruid, that is, the gallows spice.
Besides the cloves, coffee is also cultivated here by
the Dutch, and a gold mine has been lately found out.
This was discovered by the quantities of gold dust that
were washed from some mountains by the torrents.
Here also grow several kinds of valuable wood, of which
they make tallies, chairs, escrutoires, &c. for the prin¬
cipal persons in the government; and the rest is sold
all over the Indies at a very extravagant rate.
Amboyna is divided into two parts, viz. a greater
and lesser peninsula. The former, called Hiton, is 12
leagues in length, and two and a half broad. The
other is called Leytimor, five leagues in length, and
one and a half broad ; on this stands the fort of Vic¬
toria, which is the residence of the governor. The
fortress is a square, the ramparts mounted with 60
pieces of brass cannon, and the garrison usually com¬
posed of 600 men. It is so strong by nature and art,
as to be in a manner impregnable, and so effectually
does it command the harbour, that no vessel could come
m or go out without being sunk by the cannon, if the
governor chose. The inhabitants of Amboyna are
J
A M B
computed at 70,000 or 8o,ooo, of whom but a small Ara|.
number are Dutch : and this obliges the latter to he Ambracia’.
continually upon their guard, and to keep a competent
number of troops in each of their forts, particularly in
tuat of Middleburgh, which stands upon the isthmus
that connects these peninsulas. There are also re¬
doubts and garrisons in all the islands of this govern¬
ment. Amboyna was taken by the British in 1796,
restored in 1801, retaken in 1810, and finally restored
to the Dutch at the peace in 1814. See Amboyna,
Supplement.
AMBRACIA, one of the most considerable cities of
ancient Epirus, situated on the river Aracthus, at a
small distance from the sea. At first it was a free city;
but was afterwards reduced fay the AEacidse kings of
Epirus, who chose it lor the place of their residence.
In process of time, the /Etohans made themselves mas¬
ters of it, and held it till the year before Christ 189,
wnen it fell into the hands of the Romans,
At this time Ambracia was a place of great strength.
It was defended on one side by the river Aracthus, and
on the other by steep and craggy hills; and surrounded
uith a high and thick wall, about three miles in com¬
pass. The Roman consul Fulvius began the siege by
forming two camps, separated by the river, but with a
communication between them ; the Romans were posted
in one, and the Epirots their allies in the other. He
then threw up two lines, one of circumvallation, the
other of contravallation ; and built a wooden tower in
form of a castle, over against the citadel, which stood on
a hill. I he -ZEtolians, however, before the lines were
quite finished, found means to throw about 1000 men
into the place.
The lines being completed, the city was attacked in
five different places at once. The battering rams shook
the wall.on all sides: and the Romans, from their
moveable towers, pulled down the battlements with a
kind of scythes, which they fastened to long beams.
1 he besieged made a vigorous defence. They were
night and day on the walls, and indefatigable in pre¬
venting the effects of the rams and scythes. The strokes
of the former they deadened, by letting down beams,
large stones, lumps of lead, &c. by means of puileys,
upon them when they were in motion : the others they
rendered useless, by pulling the beams to which they
were fastened into the city with hooks contrived for
the purpose.
While Fulvius was carrying on the siege, Nicander
the AEtolian prattor, found means to throw 500 men
into the city, under the command of one Nicodamus,
with whom Nicander agreed to attack the Roman camp
in the night-time; not doubting, that, if the garrison
from within, and the army from without, fell upon
them at the same time, they would he obliged to raise
the siege. Nicodamus narrowly watched the time at
which he was ordered to sally; and though Nicander
did not appear, marched out at the head of the garri¬
son, armed with firebrands and torches. The Roman
sentinels, surprised at this sight, ran to awake the legi¬
onaries, and soon spread a general alarm all over the
camp. The legionaries marched in small bodies as they
happened to meet, to repulse the enemy, whom they
engaged in three different places. Two parties of the
garrison were driven back ; but the third, commanded
A M B [ 784 ] A M B
Ambiacia, by two iEtolIan generals, made a great slaughter of the
Ambreada. Romans, and not finding themselves seconded by xSican-
1   1 (]er) retired in good order into the city.
Though the besieged were thus abandoned and had
no hopes of assistance, they continued to defend them¬
selves with incredible vigour and resolution. I he Iio-
mans had no sooner made a breach in the wall, but it
was repaired, and a new one built behind it. The con¬
sul, therefore, altered his measures j and, instead of
making breaches with the ram, began to undermine
the wall, in hopes of throwing down great part of it at
once, and entering the city before the besieged could
have time to build a new wall. The miners being co¬
vered, were not observed by the garrison, till the great
quantities of earth brought out ol the mine gave the
alarm. The iEtolians immediately began to counter¬
mine j and having dug a trench ol the depth they sup¬
posed the mine to be, they carried it along the wall
where they heard the strokes ol the pickaxes ol the
Romans. When the two mines met, a battle ensued,
first with pickaxes and spades, and then with swords
and spears : but this attack did not last long, each par¬
ty making themselves a kind of rampart with the loose
earth. The iEtolians, in order to drive their enemies
quite out of the mine, invented a machine which they
brought to the place where the two mines met : this
was a hollow vessel with an iron bottom, bored through
in many places, and armed with spikes at proper distan¬
ces, to prevent the enemy from approaching it : this
vessel they filled with feathers, which they set on lire,
anti with bellows driving the smoke on the besiegers,
obliged them to leave the mine half suffocated. Ibis
interval the TEtolians made use of in repairing the foun¬
dations of the wall.
The vigorous resistance made by the Ambracians,
however, did not raise the courage of the nation in ge¬
neral, who were determined on a peace with Rome at
all events. Fulvius, in the mean time, being desirous
of getting possession of Amhracia before the conclusion
of die peace, employed Amynander, king of the Atha-
manes, to persuade the inhabitants to surrender. As
Amynander had great interest in Amhracia, having long
resided there, he easily persuaded them to capitulate on
the following terms, viz. Tdiat the /Etolian garrison
should have leave to march out ol the city 5 that the
inhabitants should pay 500 talents, 200 down, and the
rest at six equal payments j and that they should deliver
to the consul all the prisoners and deserters that were
in the city. The gates were then opened to Fulvius j
and he was presented with a crown of gold, together
with many fine statues and pictures, of which there
were great numbers in the city, it having been the
capital of Pyrrhus, who had enriched it with many va¬
luable monuments.
From this time the city of Amhracia made no figure
in history. It is scarcely known at present where the
city stood j but that called Arba, in Upper Albania,
seems best to agree with what is said of the ancient si¬
tuation of this city. The river Aracthus, on which
Ambracia was situated, is now called by the natives
Spagmagmurist.
AMBREADA, thus they call the false or fictitious
amber, which the Europeans use in their trade with
the negroes on the coast of Africa, and particularly
ea the river Senegal. There are seme large and red
pieces of it, a thousand of which making twenty ropes a inbread*,
or strings, weigh three pounds. There are others g
small, and also red, which weigh but two pounds and Ambma.
a half.
AMBRESBUIIY, or Amesbury, a market town
in Wiltshire, about six miles north of Salisbury, and
situated in W. Fong. 1. 40. and N. Fat. 51. 20.
AMBRONES, a Gaulish people who lived near the
foot of the Alps, between Switzerland and Provence.
They invaded the Roman territories in conjunction with
the Cimbri and Teutones; but were defeated with great
slaughter by Marius, about 101 years before Christ,
Their women, who had staid during the engagement
in a kind of fortification made with their carts, on seeing
their husbands flying, and the Romans at their heels,
armed themselves with axes, and, gnashing with their
teeth, fell with fury on the pursuers and the pursued.
Their first rage being spent, they desired to surrender
themselves, upon the single condition, that their chasti¬
ty should not be violated \ but this equitable request
being denied, they first killed their children, and then
themselves, not one remaining alive out of the whole
multitude.
AMBROSE, Saint, an island in the South Paci¬
fic ocean, on the coast of Chili, four or five leagues
due west from St Felix island. At first view, it ap¬
pears like two small islands $ but after a nearer ap¬
proach, it is found they are joined by a reef. It lies
in S. Fat. 26. 13. W. Fong. 80. 55. from Greenwich,
There is a large rock four miles to the northward of
the island, called from its appearance tSV«7-rGc&. Cap¬
tain Roberts, who was here in 1792, found St Felix
island inaccessible. On St Ambrose island, his crew
killed and cured 13,000 seal skins of the best quality,
in seven weeks. The island has little else to recom¬
mend it. Fish and crawfish abound. The best seasoa
for sealing is from the 1st of April to the 1st of Au-
gust.
Ambrose of Alexandria, lived in the beginning
of the third century, and was the intimate friend of
On gen. Jerome and Eusebius difter in the account
they give of this man. The one denominates him a
Marcionite, the other a ^ alentinian j but they both
agree that he was converted to the orthodox faith,
through means ol the preaching of Origen. As is
generally the case with new proselytes, he became
very zealous, and was appointed deacon either at
Alexandria, or at Caesarea, where Protectetus was
presbyter. Origen dedicated many of his works, and
among others his book on martyrdom, to Ambrose ;
at whose desire and expence they were published. 0~
rigen and Ambrose were alike indefatigable in their
application to study, and lived in terms of the most
intimate friendship. Origen being poor, Ambrose as¬
sisted him, by providing notaries and amanuenses to
copy his works.
In that period of society, when the increase of co¬
pies was a work of immense labour and great expence,
these were not only instances of private friendship, but
of public utility. Ambrose is thus justly entitled to
rank among the patrons of learning. Ambrose has
been blamed by some, for having made no provision at
his death for the poor infirm Origen. The friends of
Ambrose excuse this part of his conduct, byr saying
that Origen chose to live poor, and daily dependant on
Jiwfcmse.
A
a divine Providence.
M B t 785 ] A M B
According to some historians, the public choice, he exchanged the ensigns of civil
—) Ambrose died as a martyr, along with his friend Pro-
tectetus, in the persecution under Maximin, about the
year 236 j but the dedication of Origen’s eight books
against Celsus shews, that though he died before Ori-
gen, yet he lived to the year 250, or near that period.
Origen speaks of him as a man of great piety, and
much devoted to the study of the sacred Scriptures.
C Gen. JBiog.).
Ambrose, bishop of Milan, was one of the most
eminent fathers of the church in the fourth century,
lie was a citizen of Rome, and born in I'i’ance 5 some
historians say in the year 334 5 but others say in the
yeai 34®* l he birth of Ambrose is said to have been
attended with a remarkable presage of his future elo¬
quence, by a swarm of bees coming and settling upon
his mouth as he lay in his cradle. At the period of
his birth, his father was Praetorian prefect of Gallia
2*Jarbonensis } but, upon his death, the widow repaired
to Rome with her family. Ambrose received a reli¬
gious education, and was reared in the habits of vir¬
tuous conduct by his mother, who was an accomplish¬
ed woman, and eminent for piety. The names of
those masters who instructed him in the rudiments of
the Greek and Roman literature have not been trans¬
mitted to posterity: but in these branches he made
early proficiency $ and, having directed his attention
to the law, he employed his eloquence with such repu¬
tation in the Praetorian court of Anicius Probus, that
he was soon deemed worthy of a place in the council.
After he had continued in this station for some time,
Probus appointed him consular of Liguria and Emilia,
comprehending the territories of Milan, Liguria, Tu¬
rin, Genoa, and Bologna. Milan was chosen for the
place of his residence, and by the prudent and gentle
use of his power, he conducted the affairs of the pro¬
vince with general approbation and growing popula¬
rity.
In the year 374, Auxentius the bishop of that city
died, and his death gave a sudden change to the for¬
tune and literary pursuits of Ambrose. At that pe¬
riod, the tide of religious contention ran high between
the Catholics and the Arians, and there ensued a strong
contest concerning the choice of a new bishop. When
the people were assembled in the church to elect, Am¬
brose, in the character of governor of the place, went
into, the assembly, and in a grave, eloquent, and pa¬
thetic address, admonished the multitude to lay aside
their contentions, and, in the spirit of religious meek¬
ness, to proceed to the important work of choosing a
bishop. It is reported, that when Ambrose had finish¬
ed his address, a child cried out, “ Ambrose is bishop.”
The agitated multitude suddenly caught the supersti¬
tious flame, and regarding this as a miraculous intima¬
tion, they unanimously elected Ambrose bishop of Mi¬
lan. Some suppose that this was entirely a device of
Ambrose or his friends, and others ascribe it to mere
accident. Ambrose strongly affected reluctance, and
even pretended to fly from the city in order to avoid
the intended honour. It is, however, unfortunate for
the artifice of the governor, that the place of his con¬
cealment was soon discovered, when the will of the em¬
peror was known concerning the confirmation of his
•election. Finding it inconvenient any longer to resist
Vol. I. Part II. f
for those of ecclesiastical dignity j and, after being bap
tized, he was ordained bishop of Milan, about the end
of the year 374.
But whatever may be the sentiments of mankind
concerning the singular conduct of Ambrose in accept¬
ing an office for which he was certainly unqualified in
respect of previous studies, habits, and employments,
yet it must be admitted, that he immediately betook
himself to the necessary studies, and with ability, bold¬
ness, and integrity, acquitted himself in his new eleva¬
tion. Having appropriated his money to the poor,
settled his lands upon the church, with the exception
of making his sister tenant during life, and having com¬
mitted the care of his family to his brother, he entered
upon a regular course of theological study, under the
care of Simplician, a presbyter of Rome, and devoted
himself to the labours of the church. 1
Compelled by the irruption of the Goths and the
northern barbarians, who rushed down upon the Ro¬
man empire, spreading terror and desolation all around,
Ambrose, along with several others, fled to Ulyricum }
but he remained only a short period in exile, for the
northern invaders were quickly defeated by the forces
of the emperor, and driven back with considerable loss
into their own dominions $ therefore, he and his com¬
panions returned to their respective habitations.
After he returned to his ecclesiastic station, the elo¬
quence and abilities of that zealous bishop found ample
scope in the dispute between the Arians and the Catho¬
lics. About this era, the doctrine of Arius concern¬
ing the person of Christ had been extensively received,
and had many powerful defenders both among the
clergy and the common people. Ambrose espoused
the cause of the Catholics. Gratian, the son of the
elder Valentinian, marshalled on the same side. But
the younger Valentinian, who was now become his
colleague in the empire, adopted the opinions of the
Arians j and all the arguments and eloquence of Am*
brose were insufficient to reclaim the young prince to
the orthodox faith. Theodosius, the emperor of the.
east, also professed the orthodox faith, yet there were
numerous adherents to Arius scattered throughout his
dominions. In this general state of religions opinions
in the empire, two leaders of the Arians, Palladius and
Secundianus, confident of numbex-s, prevailed upon
Gratian to call a general council from all parts of that
empii'e. This request appeared so equitable that he
complied without hesitation; but Ambrose, aware of
the consequence, had the eloquence to pei’suade the
emperor that a general council was improper, and that
the matter could be determined by a council of the
western bishops. The result was, that a synod, com¬
posed of 32 bishops, was held at Aquileia in the year
381. Ambrose was elected president, and Palladius
being called upon to defend his opinions, declined j in¬
sisting that the meeting was a partial one, and that the
whole bishops of the empire not being present, the sense
of the Chi'istian church could not be obtained concern¬
ing the question in dispute. Ambrose mentioned seve¬
ral precedents in favour of the authority of the court,’
and added, that the oriental bishops being acquainted
with the place and nature of the meeting, might have
been present, if they had deemed the matter in discus-
5 G siora
A '
A M B L 786 ] A M B
Vmbme. sion worthy of their attention 5 therefore, the court,
—although Palladios persisted in his refusal to plead his
cause, put the vote, and he, along with his associate
Secundianus, was ejected from the episcopal office.
If Ambrose displayed great y.eal in opposing the errors
of Arius, he displayed equal zeal in opposing the hea¬
then superstitions. Many of the senators remaining
strongly attached to the heathen idolatry, upon Valen-
tinian II. ascending the throne, they made a vigorous
effort to restore the worship of the heathen deities.
Symmacbus, a very opulent man, and a great orator,
who was at that time prefect of the city, was entrust¬
ed with the management of the Pagan cause, and drew
up a petition, praying that the altar of Victory might
be restored to its ancient station in the hall of the se¬
nate, and for the proper support of seven vestal virgins,
and the regular observance of the other Pagan cere¬
monies. Great eloquence and peculiar insinuation cha¬
racterized the petition. He argued that this form of
religion had long been profitable to the Roman state,
reminded the emperor how much Rome had been in¬
debted to victory, and that it had been the uniform cu¬
stom of the senators to swear fidelity to the government
upon that altar. He likewise produced many facts to
prove the advantages derived to the state, from its an¬
cient religious institutions, and insinuated that it was
one divinity that all men worshipped under different
forms, so that ancient practice should not be rashly
laid aside. He even proceeded so far as to state the
injustice of increasing the public revenue by robbing
the church, and attributed the late famine which had
overtaken the empire to the neglect of the ancient wor¬
ship.
To this petition, Ambrose replied in a letter to Va-
lentinian, arguing that the devoted worshippers of idols
had often been forsaken by their deities $ that the na¬
tive valour of the Roman soldiers had gained their vic¬
tories, and not the pretended influence of Pagan priests j
that these idolatrous worshippers requested for them¬
selves what they refused to Christians ; that willing
virginity was more honourable than that procured by
the public money $ that as the Christian ministers de¬
clined taking temporal emoluments, they should also
be denied to Pagan priests j that it was absurd to sup¬
pose that God would send a (amine upon the empire
ror neglecting to support a religious system contrary to
his revealed will in the Scriptures j that the whole
process o( nature encouraged innovations j and that all
nations had permitted these, even in religion; that
heathen sacrifices were exceedingly offensive to Chri¬
stians ; and that every Christian prince should suppress
these Pagan ceremonies.
In the epistles of Symmachus and of Ambrose, both
the petition and the reply are preserved, in which so-
phUtry, superstition, sound sense, and solid argument,
are strangely blended. It is scarcely necessary to add
that the petition was unsuccessful.
Phe increasing strength of the Arlans proved too
liii midcihlc for the zpiiIous Ambrose. Tiie young om-
pei01 and Justma, along with a considerable number of
clergy and laity professing the Arian faith, requested
from the bishop the use of two churches, one in the
city, the other in the suburbs of Milan. The prelate
believing the bishops to he tire .guardians, both of the
temporal and spiritual interests of the church, and that Ambr«c.
the religious edifices were the unquestionable property-v——
of the church, positively refused to deliver up the tem¬
ples of the Lord into the impious hands of the heretics.
Filled with indignation, Justina resolved to employ the
imperial authority of her son in procuring by force
what she could not by persuasion. Ambrose was re¬
quired to answer for his conduct before the council.
He went, attended by a numerous crowd of people,
whose impetuous zeal so overawed the ministers of Va-
lentinian, that he was permitted to retire without ma¬
king the surrender of the churches. The day follow¬
ing, when he was performing divine service in the Ba¬
silica, the prefect of the city came to persuade him to
give up at least the Portian church in the suburbs.
Still continuing obstinate, the court proceeded to vio¬
lent measures. The officers of the household were
commanded to prepare the Basilica and the Portian
churches to celebrate divine service upon the arrival of
the emperor and his mother at the ensuing festival of
Easter. The order respecting one of them was carried
into effect ; but the court, perceiving- the growing
strength of the prelate’s interest, deemed it prudent to
use softer measures. But all measures proved in vain :
the bishop boldly replied, “ If you demand my person,
I am ready to submit : carry me to prison or to death,
I will not resist $ but I will never betray the church
of Christ. I will not call upon the people to succour
me 3 I will die at the foot of the altar, rather than de¬
sert it. The tumult of the people I will not encou¬
rage, but God alone can appease.” This strong decla¬
ration was followed by a torrent of eloquence from
the pulpit, pursuing his scheme with the most violent
zeal. But the court remained unconvinced, and ano¬
ther attempt being made, under a strong guard of fe¬
rocious Goths, to seize the church of Basilica j when
they were about to enter, Ambrose thundered the sen¬
tence of excommunication against them, and so over¬
awed them that they retired 3 and Ambrose and his
friends remained in possession of the churches. About
this time, also, an Arian bishop challenged Ambrose
to a dispute before the emperor 5 but he declined, say¬
ing that matters of faith should be determined by a coun¬
cil of bishops.
Many circumstances in the history of Ambrose are
strongly characteristic of the general spirit of the times.
The chief causes of his victory over his opponents were,
his great popularity, and the superstitious reverence
paid to the episcopal character at that period of society.
But it must be also admitted, that he used several in¬
direct means to obtain and suppert his popular autho¬
rity. Many indigent persons were supported by his li¬
beral bounty 3 in his explanations of Scripture he made
constant and severe allusions to existing and public
characters 3 the alternate mode of singing had no smaH
effect upon the minds of the vulgar. At a time when
the influence of Ambrose required vigorous support,
he fortunately was admonished in a dream to search for
the remains of Gervasius and Protasius, two martyrs
who had quietly reposed under the pavement of the
church. The skeletons were found entire, were stain¬
ed with the blood, and the head of one of them sepa¬
rated from the body. Tire vulgar crowded in thou¬
sands to behold these venerable relics. According t-a
report,
A M B [ -
AirtfcMf. report, a blind man was restored to sight, several
v     demons were expelled, and sick persons healed by
touching these hones. Ambrose exulted in these mi-
racles, and appealed to them in his eloquent sermons }
whilst the court derided and called in question their ex¬
istence. i he bishop continued firm in his opinions $ the
people believed j and the existence of the miracles was
established. And it is a very singular fact that these,
and many other miracles, obtained current credit among
tbe Christian historians of the second, third, and fourth
centuries. Dr Cave in speaking of them says, “ I
make no doubt but God suffered them to he wrought,
at this time, on purpose to confront the Arian impie¬
ties.”
Although the court were displeased with the religious
principles and conduct of Ambrose, yet they respected
his great political talents ; and when necessity required,
they solicited his aid, which he generously granted.
When Maxentius usurped the supreme power in Gaul,
and was meditating a descent upon Italy, Valentinian
sent Ambrose to him, who prevailed upon him to desist
trom t he undertaking. On a second attempt of the same
kiin-d Ambrose was employed 5 and, although he was 1111-
successtul, yet, it his advice had been followed upon his
return, the schemes of the usurper would have proved
abortive } but indifferent to his counsels, the enemy was
permitted to enter Italy, and Milan was taken. Justina
and her son fled ; but Ambrose remained in his station,
and pioved beneficial to many of the sufferers, by caus-
ing the plate of the church to be melted for their re¬
lief. 1 heodosnis, the emperor of the East, espoused the
cause of Jusiina, and by force of arms regained the king¬
dom.
In the year 390, a tumult happened at Thessalonica,
m which Botheric, one of the officers of Theodosius,
was slain ; and he' was so greatly enraged, that he is¬
sued a royal mandate for the promiscuous massacre
of the inhabitants of that place : and about seven
thousand persons were assassinated, without distinc¬
tion or mercy. The courageous Ambrose, informed of
this deed, wrote to the emperor a severe reproof, and
an earnest admonition, charging him not to approach
the holy communion with his hands stained with innocent
blood. When the emperor wTas about to enter the
church of Milan to attend upon the service, the bishop
met him, and with a stern countenance prohibited him
trom approaching the temple of God. The emperor
reminded him that David had been guilty of murder and
of adultery. The bishop replied. You have “ imitated
David in his guilt j go and imitate him in his repen-
tance.'’ The prince obeyed the priest, and, by a course
of penitential sorrow, during the space of eight months,
he laboured to regain the favour of the church. After
the termination of this period, he was absolved, but at
the same time was made to sign an edict that an interval
of thirty days should intervene before the sentence of
death- or confiscation should be put in execution. When
the iwind reflects upon the numerous had effects of in¬
stant and violent passion, this measure was certainly
franght with policy and humanity. If the reader la¬
ments the weakness which subjected the conscience to
She clerical power, he mrtst be gratified that a moderate
»se was made of tha't authority.
Tbe undaunted courage of Ambrose received- mro-
87 ]
A M B
r severe trial in the year 393, after the assassination a inbrow.
0 .a ent,man» and the base Eugenio had usurped the v  
emp,re of the west. Bather than join the standard of
the usurper, he fled from Milan. But after the army
o Iheodosius was victorious, he generously supplicated
the emperor for the pardon of those who had supported
t ic cause of Eugenio. Theodosius, soon after Ire had
acquired the uncontrolled possession of the Homan em¬
pire, died at Milan. The bishop did not long sur¬
vive the emperor; but died in the year 397. In his
ast illness, he preserved perfect composure of mind, in-
lormmg his friends that he had endeavoured so to con¬
duct himself that he might neither be ashamed to live
nor to die.
On many accounts the character of the bishop of Mi-
Jan stands high among the fathers of the ancient church.
. lta unvarying steadiness hedelivered his religions sen-
timents on all occasions ; with unwearied assiduity he
discharged the duties of his office; with unabated zeal
and boldness he defended the orthodox cause, in opposi¬
tion to the Arians ; with a liberal hand he fed the nu¬
merous poor who flocked to his dwelling ; with uncom¬
mon generosity he manifested kindnesstohis adversaries;
and with Christian affection he sought the happiness of
all men. His general habits were amiable and virtu¬
ous, and his powers of mind were uncommonly vigorous
and persevering. Ambition and bigotry were the chief
blemishes in his character.
The writings of Ambrose are voluminous, although
little more than adulterated editions of Origen and
other Greek fathers. The great design of his writings
was to defend and propagate the Catholic faith. In
some of these he recommends perpetual celibacy as
the perfection of Christian virtue. Modern judgment
and taste may perhaps induce some to esteem the
writings of Ambrose absurd, trivial, and even ludi¬
crous ; but there is a smartness and vigour in his style,
and there are excellent sentiments interspersed, which
lender the writings ol the bishop of Milan worthy of
a perusal. With his usual severity and acrimony,
Gibbons too severely censures this prelate. “Ambrose
(says lie) could act better than he could write ; his
compositions are destitute of taste or genius, without
the spirit of Pertullian, the copious elegance of Lac-
tantius, the lively wit of Jerome, or the grave energy,
of Augustin.” The most accurate and complete edi¬
tion of his works, is that published by the Benedictine
monks, printed at Paris in two volumes in 1682. (Ge/i.
B/og.).
Ambrose, Isaac, an eminent Presbyterian minister,
was educated at Brazen-nose college, Oxford, where he
took the degree of bachelor of arts,, and became mini¬
ster of Preston, and afterwards of Garstang in Eaca-
shire, whence he. was in 1662 ejected lor nonconformi¬
ty, It was usual for him to retire every year for a
month into a little hut in a wood, where lie shunned all
society, and devoted himself to religious contempla¬
tion. Dr Calamy observes, that he had a very strong
impulse on his mind of the approach of death, and
took a formal leave of his friends at their houses a lit¬
tle before his departure: and the last night of his life
he sent his discourse concerning angels to the press.
The nest day he shut himself up in his parlour, where
Co the great surprise and regret of all who saw him, he
J G 3,. was.
A M B [ 788 ] A M B
Ambrose was found just expiring. He died in 1663-4, in the
il 7 2d year of his age. He wrote several other books j
Awbrosius. HS ti,'e Prima, Media, ct Ultima, or the First, Middle,
and Last Things; War with Devils j Looking unto
Jesus, &c.
Ambrose, or St Ambrose in the Wood, an order of
religious, who use the Ambrosian office, and wear an
image of that saint engraven on a little plate : in other
respects they conform to the rule of the Augustins. See
Ambrosian Office and Augustins.
AMBROSIA, in Heathen Antiquity, denotes the so¬
lid food of the gods, in contradistinction from their drink,
which was called nectar. It had the appellation ambro¬
sia (compounded of the particle « privative, and
mortal), as being supposed to render those immortal
who fed on it.
Ambrosia is also a splendid kind of title, given by
some physicians to certain alexipharmic compositions of
extraordinary virtue. The name was particularly given
to a famous antidote of Philip of Macedon against all
poisons, bites, and stings of venomous creatures, as well
as many internal diseases.
Ambrosia. See Botany Index.
AMROSIAN OFFICE or rite, in Church Histoi'y,
a particular formula of worship in the church of Milan,
which takes its name from St Ambrose, who instituted
•that office in the fourth century. Each church ori¬
ginally had its particular office j and when the Pope,
in after times, took upon him to impose the Roman
office upon all the western churches, that of Milan
sheltered itself under the name and authority of St
Ambrose *, from which time the Ambrosian ritual has
prevailed.
AMBROSIN, in middle-age writers, denotes a
coin struck by the lords or dukes of Milan, whereon
was represented St Ambrose on horseback, with a whip
in his right hand. The occasion of this coinage is said
to have been a vision of that saint, who appeared to
the Milanese general in 1339, during the time of a
battle.
AMBROSINIA. See Botany Index.
AMBRQSIUS Aurelianus, or Aurelius Am-
brosius, a famous general of the ancient Britons, of
Roman extraction. He was educated at the court of
Aldroen of Armorica ; who, at the request of the Bri¬
tons, sent him over with 10,000 men, to assist them
against the Saxons, whom Vortigern had invited into
Britain. Ambrosius had such success against the Sax¬
ons, that the Britons chose him for their king, and
compelled Vortigern to give up to him all the western
part of the kingdom divided by the Roman highway
called Watling-street. Some time after, the Britons
being discontented with Vortigern, and having with¬
drawn their allegiance from him, he retired to a castle
in Wales, where being besieged by Ambrosius, and
the castle taking fire, he perished in the flames, and
left his rival sole monarch of Britain j who now took
upon him the imperial purple, after the manner of the
Roman emperors. Geoffrey of Monmouth tells us, that
Ambrosius built Stonehenge near Salisbury in Wilt¬
shire. Ambrosius, according to this historian, coming
to a monastery near Caercaradoc, now Salisbury, where
three hundred British lords, massacred by Hengist, lay
buried, and resolving to perpetuate the memory of’this
action, he ordered his workmen to prepare a large AmbiOsks
quantity of stones and other materials. But having, jj
at the instigation of Tremounus archbishop of Caer- Ambobajw.
leon, consulted the famous Merlin, this magician ad-
vised him to send over to Ireland for certain great
stones, called choreagigahtam, the giant’s dance, placed
in a circle on a hill called Killair, which were brought
thither by giants from the farthest borders of Afri¬
ca. A body of forces was accordingly sent into Ire¬
land, under Pendragon, Ambrosius’s brother, to fetch
these stones 5 but were opposed in their attempt by Gil-
liomanus king of the country, who derided the folly
of the Britons in undertaking so ridiculous an expedi¬
tion. Nevertheless, the Britons having vanquished this
prince in battle, brought away the stones ; and by the
direction and assistance of Merlin, who had accompa¬
nied them, these wonderful stones, by order of Am¬
brosius, were placed over the graves of the British
lords, and are now what is called Stonhenge. Alex¬
ander Mecham celebrates this fable in his poem Me di-
vince sapientice landibus. Polydore Virgil assigns ano¬
ther origin of Stonehenge : he tells us it was erected by
the Britons as a monument to their general Ambrosius,
on the place where he fell in battle, to perpetuate the
memory of his glorious actions and services done to his
country. Both these stories are rejected by our best
antiquaries i who, however, are by no means agreed as
to the true origin of this famous piece of antiquity.
See Stonehenge.
After the Britons had defeated the Saxons, and ob¬
liged them to retire northward, Ambrosius is said t©
have convened the princes and great men at York,
where he gave orders for repairing the churches de¬
stroyed by the Saxons, and restoring the exercise of re¬
ligion to its former lustre. This is confirmed by Mat¬
thew of Westminster j who highly applauds the great
zeal of Ambrosius in repairing the churches, encoura¬
ging the clergy, and restoring the honour of religion.
The Monmouth historian gives this prince a very high
character. “ He was a man (says he) of such bravery
and courage, that when he was in Gaul no one durst
enter the lists with him $ for he was sure to unhorse his
antagonist, or to break his spear into shivers. He was,
moreover, generous in bestowing, careful in perform¬
ing religious duties, moderate in all things, and more
especially abhorred a lie. He was strong on foot,
stronger on horseback, and perfectly qualified to com¬
mand an army.” The same author tells us he was poi¬
soned at Winchester by one Eopa a Saxon, disguised
as a physician, and hired for that purpose by Pascentius
one of the sons of Vortigern : but the generally received
opinion is, that he was killed in a battle which he lost
in the year 508, against Cerdic, one of the Saxon ge¬
nerals.
AMBRY, a place in which are deposited all utensil*
necessary for house-keeping. In the ancient abbeys
and priories, there was an office under this denomina¬
tion, wherein were laid up all charities for the poor.
AMBUBAJiE, in Homan Antiquity, were immodest
women, who came from Syria to Rome, where they
lived by prostitution, and by playing on the flute. The
word is derived from the Syriac abub, which signifies a
flute ; although others make it to come from am and
Baiai, because these prostitutes often retired to Baise.
According
A M B
4 mhuhaj* according to Criitjuius, these women used likewise to
sell paint for ornamenting the face, &c.
^ AMBULANT, or Ambulatory. They gave in
1* ranee the name of Ambulant commissioners to those
commissioners, or clerks of the king’s farms, who had
no settled oflice $ but visited all the offices within a cer¬
tain district, to see that nothing was done in them against
the king’s right and the interest of the farm.
Ambulant is also used to denote those brokers at
Amsterdam, or exchange agents, who have not been
sworn before the magistrates. They transact brokerage
business, but their testimony is not received in the courts
of justice.
AMBULATORY, a term anciently applied to such
courts, &c. as were not fixed to any certain place ; but
held sometimes in one place, and sometimes in another 5
»n opposition to stationary courts.—The court of parlia¬
ment was anciently ambulatory ; so also were the courts
of king’s bench, &c.
AMBURBIUM, in Roman antiquity, a procession
made by the Romans round the city and pomcerium,
in which they led a victim, and afterwards sacriiiced
it, in order to avert some calamity that threatened the
trity-
AMBURY, or Anbury, among Farriers, denotes
a tumour, wart, or swelling, which is soft to the touch,
and full of blood.
This disorder of horses is cured by tying a horse¬
hair very hard about its root : and when it has fallen
off, which commonly happens in about eight days,
strewing some powder of verdigris upon the part, to
prevent the return of the complaint. If the tumour
he so low that nothing can be tied about it, they cut it
out with a knife, or else burn it off with a sharp hot
iron ; and in sinewy parts, where a hot iron is impro¬
per they eat it away with oil of vitriol, or white subli¬
mate.
Many of our farriers boast of a secret which infalli¬
bly cures all protuberances of this kind ; the prepara¬
tion of which is this : Take three ounces of green vi¬
triol and one ounce of white arsenic ; beat them to a
coarse powder, and put them into a crucible ; place
the crucible in the midst of a charcoal fire, stirring the
substance, but carefully avoiding the poisonous steams:
when the whole grows reddish, take the crucible out
of the fire, and when cool, break it and take out the
matter at the bottom $ beat this to powder in a mortar,
and add to four ounces of this powder five ounces of
album rhosis; make the whole into an ointment, and let
it be applied cold to warts 5 rubbing them with it eve ry
day. They will by this means fall off gently and easi-
fy, without leaving any swellings. It is best to keep
the horse quiet, and without working, during the cure.
What sores remain on the parts from which the swell¬
ings fall off, may be cured with the common application
called Countess's ointment.
AMBUSCADE, or Ambush, in the Military Art,
properly denotes a place where soldiers may lie con¬
cealed till they find an opportunity to surprise the
enemy.
In the language of Scripture, these terms are not
always taken in their proper signification, for laying
ambushes for any one, attacking him in secret, laying
C 789 ]
A M E
snares lor him. They sometimes signify no more than
attacking a man who has no distrust of such a thing;
attacking one behind, concealing one’s self in some
particular place in order to surprise any one. See the
book of Judges, ch. ix. 25, 32, 34, 35. Abimelech,
who lay lurking with his people in the heights of Si-
chem, so, however, as to rob and treat those who
Pf-d, ^iat vvay very came and attacked the citr
ot Sichem with his troops divided into three bodies':
letendit insidiasjuxtu Sichimam in quatuor locis. Li¬
terally, according to the Hebrew, “ They prepared
ambuscades against Sichem in four heads or compa¬
nies. Ami a little farther, verse 43. “ Abimelecb,
being informed that the Sichemites had marched,
took Ins army and divided it into three bodies, and
laid wait for them in the field.” It seems certain, that
m these passages ambushes, properly so called, were not
the things >jn question. In the first book of Samuel
Saul complains that David laid ambuscades for him :
Insidiator usque hodiepermanens. Now nothing could
be worse grounded than this accusation, if we&under-
stand the word msidiari in its proper signification ; but
he might say, though unjustly, that David was his
secret enemy. And in the Chronicles it is said, that
God turned the ambushes laid by the enemies of Israel
upon themselves j that is to say, their endeavours, their
malice, their arms, he turned against themselves j for
the enemies there mentioned came not in private or
by stratagem j they marched openly in arms against
Israel.
AMB\, a town of the Netherlands, ig the province
of Limburg, situated opposite to Maestricht, on the
east side of the river Maese, in E. Long. 5. 45. N.
Lat. 50. 57.
AMEDlANS, in Church History, a congregation
of religious in Italy, so called from their professing
themselves amantes Deum, “ lovers of God •” or rather
amati Deo, “ beloved of God.” They wore a gray
habit and wooden shoes, had no breeches, and girt
themselves with a cord. They had 28 convents 5 and
were united by Pope Pius V. partly with the Cistercian
order, and partly with that of the Soccolanti, or wooden
shoe wearers.
AMELIA, an episcopal city of Italy, in the state
of the church, seated on a mountain, in the duchy of
Spoletto. E. Long. 12. 19. N. Lat. 42. 33.
Amelia, a county in Virginia, situated between the
Blue-ridge and the tide waters, having Cumberland
county on the north, Prince George county on the east,
and Lunenburg county on the south and west. In 1810
Amelia contained 10,594 inhabitants, of whom a great
proportion were slaves.
Amelia Isle, on the coast of East Florida, lies about
seven leagues north of St Augustine, and very near Tal¬
bot island on the south, at the mouth of St John’s ri¬
ver. It is 13 miles long and two broad, is very fertile,
and has an excellent harbour. Its north end lies oppo¬
site Cumberland island, between which and Amelia isle
is the entry into St Mary’s river, in N. Lat. 30. 52.
W. L ong-. 67. 23.
AMELLUS, Starwort. See Botany Index.
AMELOT DE la Houssai, Nicholas, born at Or¬
leans, in 1634, was much esteemed at thedourt of France,
and
2
A M E [ 79° ] A ^ E
\ siml appointctl secretary of an embassy which that court
AtnelrUo. sent to the conitnonwealtii of Venice, as appears by the
jjt]e 0f |jJs Translation of Father Paul’s History ci the
Council of Trent hut lie afterwards published writings
which gave such offence, that he was imprisoned in the
Bastile. The first works he printed were the History
of the Government of Venice, and that of the Uscoks,
a people of Croatia. In 1683 he published his trans¬
lations into French of Machiavel’s Prince, and iather
Paul’s History of the Council of Trent, and Political
Discourses of his own upon Tacitus. 'I hese perform¬
ances were well received by the public. He did not
prefix his own name to the two last-mentioned works,
but concealed himself under that of La Mothe Josseval.
His translation of Father Paul was attacked by the
partisans of the pope’s unbounded power and autho¬
rity. In France, however, it met with great success •,
all the advocates for the liberty of the Galilean church
promoting the success of it to the utmost of their power,
though at the same time there were three memorials
presented to have it suppressed. When the second edi¬
tion of this translation was published, it was violently
attacked by the Abb£ St Real, in a letter he wrote to
Air Bayle, dated October 17. 1685. Amelot defend¬
ed himself in a letter to tlie same gentleman. In 1684,
he printed, at Paris, a French Translation of Baltasar
Gracian’s Oracula Manual, with the title of PHomme
(leCour. In 1686, he printed La Morale de Tacite de la
FUitlerie ; in which work he collected several particular
facts and maxims, which represent in a strong light the
artifices of court flatterers, and the mischievous effect
of their poisonous discourses. Frederick Leonard, a
bookseller at Paris, having proposed in the year 1692,
to print a collection of all the treaties of peace between
the kings of France and all the other princes of Eu¬
rope, since the reign of Charles VII. to the year 1690,
Amelot published a small volume in duodecimo, contain¬
ing a preliminary discourse upon these treaties; where¬
in he endeavours to show, that most princes, when they
enter into a treaty, think more how to evade than how
to perform the terms they subscribe to. He published
also an edition ofCardinal d’Ossat’s letters in 1697, with
several obervations of his own ; which, as he tells us
in his advertisement, may serve as a supplement to the
history of the reigns of Henry III. and Henry IV. kings
of France. He wrote several other works ; and died
a-t Paris in at the age of 73. Amelot was at
one time confined in the Bastile, probably on aecowit
of his political writings.
AMELOTTE, Denis, a celebrated French writer,
was born at Saintonge in 1606. He maintained a close
correspondence with the fathers of the Oratory, a con¬
gregation of priests founded by Philip of Neri. He
wrote the life of Charles of Gendrort, second superior
of this congregation, and published it at Paris in 1643.
fn this work he said something of the famous abbot
of St Cyran, which greatly displeased the gentlemen of
Port Royal, who, oM of revenge, published a libel »-
gainst him, entitled Idee generate de Pespirti et de livre
de P. Amelotte. Fie was so much provoked by this sa¬
tire, that he did all mb is power to injure them. They
had finished a translation of the New Testament, and
were desirous to have it published : for which purpose
they endeavoured to procure au approbation from the
doctors of the Sorbonne, and a privilege from the king, AmrUu*
But Amelotte, by bis influence with the chancellor, g
prevented them from succeeding. In this he had also Ahh-mu*.
a view to his own interest; for he Was about to publish -
a translation of his own. AmelotteV translation with
annotations, in four volumes octavo, was .printed in the
years 1666, l667,and 1668. It was not very accurate,
according to F. Simon, who tells us that it contains
some very gross blunders. Amelotte wrote also an
Abridgement of Divinity, a Catechism for the Jubilee,
and a kind of Christian Manual for every day. To¬
wards the end of his life, he entered into the congrega¬
tion of the Oratory in 1650 ; and continued amongst
them till his death, which happened in 1678.
AMEN, inn signifies true, faithful, certain. It is
made use of likewise to affirm any thing, and was a
sort of affirmation used often by our Saviour: Auai,
Apw, teya iutv, i. e. Verity, verily, I say unto you. Last¬
ly, It is understood as expressing a wish ; as Amen, So
be lt (Numb. v. 22.), or an affirmation, Amen, yes l
believe it, I Cor. xiv. 16. The Hebrew's end the five
books of Psalms, according to their way of distribut¬
ing them, with the words Amen, Amen; which, the
Septuagint have translated yey«m>, ; and the JjSl-
tins, Fiat, jiat. The Greek and Latin churches have
preserved this word in their prayers, as well as aUeluiah
and hosannah ; because they observed more energy in
them than in any terms which they could use in their
own languages. At the conclusion of the public pray¬
ers, the people answered with a loud voice, Amen ; and
St Jerome says, that at Rome, when the people an¬
swered Amen, the sound of their voices was like a clap
of thunder : In simiUtudine ccelesiis tonitrui Amen re¬
boot. The Jews assert, that the gates of heaven are
opened to him who answers Amen with all his might.
AMEND, or Amende, in the French Customs, a
pecuniary punishment imposed by a judge for any crime,
false prosecution, or groundless appeal.
Amende Honourable, a species of punishment 'for¬
merly inflicted in France upon traitors, parricides, or
sacrilegious persons, in the following manner: The of¬
fender being, delivered into the hands of the hangman,
his shirt is stripped oft’, a rope put about his neck, and
a taper in his hand; then he is led into court, where
he must beg pardon of God, the king, the court, and
his country. Sometimes the punishment ends here ; hot
sometimes it is wily a prelude to death, ot baausiriftten*
to the galleys.
Amende Honourable is a> term also used for making
recantation in open court, or in presence of the person
injured.
AMENDMENT, in s general sense, denotes some
alteration or change made in a thing for the better.
Amendment, \n<Law, the correction of an error com¬
mitted in a process, which may be amended after judg¬
ment, unless the error lies in giving judgment; for in
that case it is not amendable, but the party must bring
a writ ot error. A bill may be amended on the file at
any time before the plea is pleaded ; hot not afterwards,
without motion and leave of the court.
Amendment of a Bill, in parliament, is some alte¬
ration made in the first draught of it.
AMENTUM, in Botany, the name of a species of
calyx, consisting of valves, and hanging down in dif¬
ferent
i«
4.
4«satam,
Amende.
A M E
ferent ditcctioos from tlje caulis.
% good example of the amentum.
Amentum, in Reman Antiquity, a thong tied about
the middle of a javelin or dart, and fastened to the fore-
anger, in order to recover the weapon as soon as it
was discharged. The ancients made great use of the
amentum, thinking it helped to enforce the blow. It
denotes a latchet that bound their sandals.
AMERADL, a kind of officers among .the Sara-
A M E
cenSjanswering to the governors of provinces among
the Europeans. The name is originally the same with
that of Emir.
AMERCEMENT, or Amerciament, in Law, a
pecuniary punishment imposed on offenders at the merev
of the court. It differs from a fine, in being imposed
arbitrarily, m proportion to the fault j whereas a fine
is a certain punishment settled expressly by some sta-
„ t 791 ]
Common oats afford
Amerade,
Antevce-
meat.
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
DIRECTIONS for placing the PLATES or Vol. I.
Part I.
Plate I.
IL III.
IV.
V.
Page i6©
228
244
2J4
Part II.
VI.—XIII.
XIV.
xv. xvi.
XVJL
53*
674
732
74* .
■u. m.vrn m
>. '■ ■4' i
/ / / '
iy ,'f
■ ', / ■ ■.-," '■■. < - ' ^ .,■' ■-
4 v ,
, ' •;
■ ■
Q, ^ ^
^ V )<
»• U f' &■
m,
sa. -; . / '■
V
rl.
\ % ;<c
'; '<:-v
\ \ \ . ,<•.• »xs \ .\ /
S \ 'f* \ X X x' \ \ v ‘
V . x, \ \ \ \ V ' X N
' x. \ \ ■'x '\ v -s ' , ■• x \
■ v N 'N v 0\\ ,N • ?Xn4\\ \ '
\ ' \ \ • : \- \ \ - ; \ x ' '
\e N \ v \ .\ .* v - X X \ x
' ' X X X X , \ •, v* .%X .*x X Jn .x \\\,x
■ X \ x \ x * X .-X X, X \ V. \ \ X
X \ \ '■ V5 •* <' ^W x. X. \ .; \ \ xx \ x.
X X
X X ■
xv '• \
\ x X X * X o ' X' X X X \ X \ '• X \
x X x ' x , x vv x v“ V X N - x ' X N
XxXs"x x X X \ \ \XxXvX \ X \ .. \
- \ x. xs X X X X x \X.. X x, X . . \x
\V - v X X 'x X X X..\ X X x X - ' X • X <?
■■ x\\Vn\nv\Vx x\x^ -
x X \ X \ \\ \ \ \ \x. x x X x
X \ x X x. X . N\ \ X XN X \ x
, X X X XXX \ . x X X X, X X
^ x ■
- \ X X X X VX \
x X X X
X X X X x "x
■ x, x , X X \ \ \ ■ v X
X X v '
X
■
xx. \VX